Beanz means Fartz

Aaah. How nice it is to arise near 10am. Our morning bottlebank (I scooted) walk took us to the park where we found a 50p in the mud. This morning Jof said I couldn't have any more 20p cars from the charity shop because the box is full, and it's my second box anyway. Thus, with the searing logic of the 6 year-old, I decided to start collecting little plastic animals instead. On our return, I found 5 x lovely shiny £1 coins on the floor in a shop, lucky BensMum wasn't there or she'd be trying to give them to charity. This is why I'm rich, and Ben is angry. 

Jof had been hard at work cutting the hedge and clearing the garden: Bud went out to harvest the beans and I was just about to help when I got trapped by the TV and failed to rematerialize for 2 hours.

Later I roped her into helping me make (and paint) a swamp with palm trees and treasure chest as a diorama for my new animal collection (as you do), while he Ebayed the first 7 items. You know, Blind Uncle Len had a lot of stuff. There's £70 worth of coin in his commemorative coin collection - if they don't sell, I can just sell them to the bank.

Here's me with some animals on a sword and a hill of beans. Expect high levels of folic acid and farting, quite possibly during bath fizzer night, where the waters of cleanliness may be even more bubbly than usual. In the end, I chose classical music, and used my snorkel to the strains of Albinoni and Mozart to try SCUBA diving. I've heard of an hour in the shower (Chicago III) but an hour and a half in the bath?