Tuesday, 31 January 2012
During spelling practice tonight I tried focus again and came up with FOCKOES, which was wrong. I then tried out a variety of pronunciations while he went pink, flared his nostrils and managed not to laugh.
It's very cold and the weather-guesser says it'll be -2° tomorrow morning. I know this is nothing to my Swedish and Canadian readers but those in Oz and Saudi should feel lucky.
Monday, 30 January 2012
From school went straight to Puddleducks to drop off some colouring books from the big clearout. We met Helen, the one with the comfortable chest we all liked. She's manager now after Gemma, her predecessor, left suddenly when she was caught eating the kid's food.
In Beavers I wore the new top and he bought me the T-shirt and scarf and woggle. I know everyone's laughed about dib-dib my woggle and it's a word I'll never be able to say straight, but seriously, couldn't you have come up with a better word for a noose-tighteny-loop of leather? Anyway, 2 policemen came to talk to us and one was the tallest policeman in the world. He was 7 foot 13 and had to come into the room on all fours. They showed us the special emergency buttons on their radios and said how fun it was driving down the street with woo-woos on and how they really mustn't do it when they're only going out to buy milk.
My spelling words this week are even more difficult. I tried manfully and came up with soxes (success), fockoes (focus) and ginier for ginger because I got my J the wrong way round.
Today, Zoe (Martin's girlfriend) interviewed successfully for the position of cleaner at my school. Present at the interview were 2 pupils who asked inane questions of the calibre you'd expect from 6 year-olds. She starts Monday.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Just looking forward to an extremely fizzy fizzer night.....another classic fizznight. Coconut/shea butter with Ludovico Einaudi (Le Onde) tinkling the ivories. Then, because I enjoy sliding around in an empty yet slippery bathtub: Youtube videos. 1: Olympic luge. Then, mountainous ski jump. Then, ski slalom, topped off with the Torvill + Dean 6.0 Bolero gold medal ice skate.
I will sleep well, dreaming about ice and its benefit to society.
Bed: 1030. I love everything.
Friday, 27 January 2012
Thursday, 26 January 2012
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
Monday, 23 January 2012
Sunday, 22 January 2012
Saturday, 21 January 2012
Later Jof wanted to defend againt visiting mice so she cleaned the kitchen, hoovered the house, went to B+Q and bought some branch loppers, cleared out the playroom and made me get rid of half my stuff.
Also: I have opened all my presents and lost all the cards so I don't know who gave me what. So all I can say is thank you all very much for all my wonderful stuff. I hope Ben got as much as me. I know he was on the beach this afternoon because Bud ran past him.
Friday, 20 January 2012
Thursday, 19 January 2012
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
While they were eating their supper I did my bit for global warming by leaving the back door open so we could warm the globe: I'm generous like that and do it frequently.
I also spent a while making a den by putting all the chairs on their backs underneath the dining table and filling the resultant space with all the coats and hats.
She doesn't know it yet, but tomorrow morning Jof will shout at me when I just can't find any of my coats and make us late.
That naughty frequencyI read today in the New Scientist that blue light, especially at bedtime, disrupts the circadian rhythm and thus quality of sleep. Lamentably, for the last few years the shade on my night-light (which I still insist I require) has been a deep azure blue. Thus this evening I put a job card in for Facilities to replace it with a more suitable colour at the other end of the visible spectrum.
My bedroom now has a warm red light. I'm thinking of putting in a Leatherette minibar, a couple of What The Butler Saw machines and some pictures of tennis players scratching their bottoms. I think Erin will love it on that sleepover she asked for.
Monday, 16 January 2012
Jof has found me a new activity to help fill up my week - Beaver Scouts! Jof says I can learn all sorts of things from beavers, I can't wait to have a crack at it and get stuck in. This is just a taster session so I shall taste my first beaver this evening, in the same church where I was assistant percussionist #12 at the school nativity play.
We scooted through the park in pitch blackness at zero celsius, lucky I have lights on my scooter. We got there early and I played football with more and more of them as they arrived. There are 4 people I know from school, the park, or swimming and one is in my class.
We saluted a flag and said a liturgical poem, then did the running around statues game. Then we split into groups and did colouring in, solving worthy mazes (Help Johnny get all the litter into the recycling bin) and learning what things can be recycled.
The poems, promises and official sacraments mention god quite a lot but I know that all the various gods are fictional characters made up by priests to get money out of other people so I don't mind.
During proceedings we all had to stand to attention and say an oath of allegiance while one of the beavers was summoned by the high commissioners and was inducted into full beaverdom in a touching rite of passage. He got his full initiate's badges and woggle.
Then another one was old enough or had enough points to be promoted to cubdom in a quite intense symbolic transmogrification ritual in front of the council of elders in regalia. The 2 leading cubs jumped over a strip of blue plastic (representing a river), marched up to the ex-beaver and jumped him back over the river, making him a neo-cub.
Well, I'm bang into beaver. I just can't get enough beaver. Just you wait, I'll end up as grandmaster.
Grandad phoned to say that Grandma has moved to the local hospital and will now get therapy, and he had to sign a thing called a DNR.
Sunday, 15 January 2012
Saturday, 14 January 2012
In the evening I challenged Bud to my new boardgame, based on games I have met so far. It's a little rough'n'ready and is only the first iteration. He won but it's just down to the roll of the die. Due to the way I've drawn it, there are difficulties (am I on this square or that, is it a yellow or orange square) so we undertook to redraw it in new and interesting colours and shapes. We'd got 30% through it when Jof finally stopped hoovering angrily and challenged us to monopoly. We got an hour into it before we realised we hadn't eaten so they argued with various curry takeaways (what do you mean, an hour's wait for food, I thought there was a recession on) then she bought one from Tesco. By the time it got to bath fizzer night, it was too late to start so I had a quick shower. This is when problems started.
Quality time: the rantAt drying time, he's kneeling down holding the towel like a toreador, hoping to envelop and dry me. I roar a lot, charge him repeatedly like a bullish (yet bare) conquistador and try to knock him over. This is pretty well the same as every other night of the week but after a bottle of red I've got a decent chance of flooring him. Soon I was laughing so much I got hiccups. This makes him incapable with mirth which only makes me worse (and more aggressive) and him more vulnerable. Within no time, we were both gurgling and hiccuping and dribbling while I pounded him against the cupboard. This is when Jof came in and berated us for being so happy. Women the world over will complain about lack of quality time spent with the kids but to us - it's different. If one of us isn't busy trying not to poo himself while the other is busy trying not to vomit because we're laughing so much - then it's time not worth having.
I'm a regular jack in the box / in my birthday suit and hippy locks
Friday, 13 January 2012
Thursday, 12 January 2012
Meanwhile Grandad is tackling the unused kitchen utensils so will no doubt need to hire a small lorry to take it all to the tip.
Bud picked up a blonde in Tesco again but it was the same one as last week so probably doesn't count. This was good for me as Ben got to play lego trains again while they had tea. We made a train track in the shape of a willy: Ben doubted me so I whipped mine out to prove it. Again: this seems normal to us even though the parents laughed.
Today is my last chance to practice for tomorrow's spelling test. It's been tough. Here is the overall scoresheet showing my wondrous progress throughout the week with its many iterations of the same set of words.
SPELVOLUTION: The trials and dribulations of a boy on a learning curve over a single week
Wednesday, 11 January 2012
I scooted across to the park at the usual time to find Ben setting up. He appears to have grown since I saw him last but his Mum says that's just a jumper that's got too small. We climbed the biggest rock and tried to knock each other off with a football, then the JoniBobs arrived and joined in, and even Football Harry turned up. There was quite a lot of swinging on the monkey bars and then we had a game of football in the usual corner. This did not quite go to plan. Although I constantly shouted orders nobody seemed to obey me. Harry also likes shouting orders so I simply doubled my output to drown him out but it didn't work. Generally, at any given time, two of us were howling. Bobert howled the most but then he did get a high-speed ball in the tummy from Ben's boot which can be pretty strong.
When they suggested we could go home if we couldn't behave, that got an even more howly response so we played quietly on the climbing frames. The darkness chased us home where Bud made me do spelling practice again.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Monday, 9 January 2012
Plotted with Erin and got her back to mine after school where we bared our buttocks at each other and played Nippleshow once again, comparing areolæ in detail. This seems normal to us but Bud laughed a lot. Then we opened a sweet shop on the toy shelves but miraculously there was stock shrinkage - I blame those light-fingered staff. After supper we polished it all off anyway.
Poor Erin is to lose Dylandog today. ErinsDad just isn't a doggy person but they have found a new owner who is a vet so Dylan will either have a long and healthy life or a short and painless one.