It's Oh so quiet, shh, shh

I awoke at precisely 11am to discover that Jof had already phoned. She is homesick and is finding the girlies difficult to keep up with.

The toys room looks big and empty now that Box #8 has gone: I hoovered it while he made me breakfast so that I could start on a new Lego project.
Todays' random park was Waterworks Lane high up on Portsdown Hill. It's quite small but has a football pitch with a sign forbidding golf practice. The giant reservoir that feeds Portsmouth was just over a large fence so we didn't investigate it this time.
Because swimming lessons have been cancelled 2 weeks running, I'm having chlorine withdrawal symptoms so we went to the Pyramids to work it off. We got 3 wave alerts, had races down the waterslides and threw the swim-ring to each other. We got about an hour and a half wet time before I got hungry so I had double sausage and chips. Once sated, we threw rocks into the sea and were the last out of the car park. It was a quiet day after the rampant bloodlust fever of yesterday.

The one-legged black lesbian bereavement support group

Woke nice and early and played Lego quietly downstairs as promised. Jof has bought me a set of walkie-talkies to temper the shock of her absence (apparently she's away) so we took them to Tunnel Park on the bottlebank walk. I was so hot I removed my shirt. The radios are absolutely excellent and on the way back I wandered around swingpark while he did some shopping, they even transmit through buildings so I just kept tweeting him and updating him on my current position.

We will do this more often. I couldn't believe it when he made me go out again, just because there was a beer offer at Lidl.

Another 53 chillies were pulped while I cleared up the room so that Box #8 could go out on a tidy high.

After what seemed like an age, the Puddlers arrived. Beers were opened and we got to work in Box #8. (Erin has already planned Box #9, and she desires a lift to the upper levels, no doubt powered by us plebs on the treadmill) The JoniBobs arrived with weapons aforethought, for that is their way. We hooted, played and argued (this is normal). Gradually the lacklustre PuddleDaddies cheered up, their temporary losses forgotten. See the before and after pictures of how the Support Group helped these despondent chaps in their hour of need.

Lego started as the football results came in: then the Problem happened.

 The Problem.

We all knew that tonight Box #8 was due for destruction. It has lasted 3 weeks: this is the maximum lifespan for a cardboard castle of its nature. Thus, we all wanted to kill it, and burn it. Unless you are A) a member of the PuddleGroup or B) have many many insane children of your own in the 6-7 age range, you can never fully appreciate the rampant bloodlust of little people tasked with destroying something and consigning it to the inferno pit of hell.

Erin already has a hoop on her karate belt and she's strong anyway, and all the boys are weapons-obsessed, so we're a farce to be reckoned with. We attacked it with total primal scream gusto and with the help of Bud with his dangerous Knife Of Doom, we soon had the whole thing in bits at the bottom of the garden awaiting the traditional conflagration. I'm not kidding. The poor little adults had a hard time keeping up.

With the assistance of random sausages and LIDL drinkies, we utterly killed it and, with a certain amount of crying "he took my turn/kicked me in the face on purpose/why can't I burn the sword" etc - but this is normal and soon forgotten -we cleared the whole room which now needs hoovering. At 7pm the rest of the PuddleDaddies called it: this was actually their original plan for they wanted to go home, feed and bath their little angels and get the wine out. OMFG, it was good. No party of ours ends up cold, for sooner or later we find something to burn. Life is good.

After my mixed pasta/kiwi fruit/yogurt/chocolate meal, we did Bath Fizzer Night with Queen live killers and dinosaurs, some things never change. I got hiccups again due to excess laughter, this is the way of things. In other news, I am 6 and 3/4 today so was measured: I have grown 1.5 cm in the last 3 months. I'm nearly big enough to go down the red waterslide at the Pyramids.

Living in a single-parent family

Jof was in a good mood when she took me to school today. Well, it was tinged with some overly-clutchy teary emotion as she couldn't quite let me go, but you only get 1 mother.
The laundry went out at 0530 today, because the Weatherguessers said it would be good drying weather. It rained all day: methinks it will have to stay out for 2 days.

Now it's a weekend of chap-based debauchery and man stuff, maybe I'll watch Terminator and Babestation again.
Today is my first spelling test of Year 2. These words are tricky and I've been in tears more than once at their unfairness.

Amuse Argue Rescue Few School Naughty Well behaved Laugh. Just when you've got used to the -ue sound, you get a Few. Then one of them is 2 words - surely that's illegal. And then one -gh- is silent, and one makes an F. What is it with this language? Anyway, I got 8 out of 8 and a sticker to prove it. On the way back I invited half-oriental Sam to play in Box #8 for a few minutes before it gets destroyed. He loved it and I think his Mum was a little nonplussed by the 2 maniacs jumping up and down. Sam also refused to come out at going-home time, following the lead of LittleMax and Jack W before him.

As freedom sets in, we have decided to go down the pub, as it is the manly thing to do.

The heating system at the swimming pool was broken again. Swimming was off for the second week running. I was not amused: but the manager herself promised me 2 weeks of double lessons to make up for it.

We met the JoniBobs and Ben at the Royal Artillery Pub and proceeded to throw the football and wave our light sabres in the usual fashion. The England ball got stuck on the corrugated roof to the amusement of the unknown pub-goers but one of our number was a tool-using primate and used a light sabre to retrieve it. We played inside and outside. Many crisps later we headed home and I got hooked on Star Trek TNG with pizza. Bed approx 2230. Much fun.

Firewalls, port scans and packet sniffers

Last night I was awoken from a dream in which we were in a bicycle race but Bud kept stopping to be silly, so we lost. These are the traumatic events that will dog my subconscious forever.

Grandma and Grandad's house is on the market at last. I'll visit it shortly and I bet we'll take better pictures than the estate agents did. Coincidentally, Blind Uncle Len's old bungalow has gone on the market on exactly the same day.

At school today 3 classes went on a  trip to another school and 2 other delegations arrived and I saw Ben! We pulled faces at each other, for that is one of our talents.

It was quite nice out but I elected to stay inside and do my Childline charity drawing. The best colouring-in picture gets a medal so I got down to work straight after half an hour of Lego. It was soon after that he found me in Box #8 having a big blub. You know when you've got all the Puddlers round and they all use the millions of pens in the art box and they go back in the box without their lids or they languish lidless under the table until you next hoover?

This means that a hefty proportion of the alleged (or formerly known as) pens are completely dead. So I ruined the picture on my first squiggle.

Bud promised to save the day and so I did the rest - then he put a carefully trimmed white sticker over the abomination that was the fish's nose and I daubed gold all over it just to make sure.

Jof is going for a Pimmsy weekend away after she drops me off at school tomorrow. She has threatened to email and text every 20 minutes to make sure we're OK but ErinsMum has promised to remove the battery from her tablet so she doesn't have to. I hugged Jof extra to keep her going, and even let her win at Monopoly.

The 65 million dollar girlie

A businessman from Hong Kong has offered a 65 million dollar bonus for any man who will marry his daughter. The girl in question only likes kissing other girls but that's a small price to pay for a dowry of this size. I offer my services for this position, the cash will come in handy for buying my new Global Domination Cult headquarters.

In other news, I have invented a space-age weapon that will enable me to take over the world and repel alien invaders. It shoots hard-boiled eggs at trans-warp velocities. It is called the Luteal Phaser and with it, I can turn anyone into a Corpus Luteum. Aha.

In even more news, Jof has finished packing for her weekend away with the girls. This means she has run out of things to fuss and flap about. Fortunately Nanna has stuck her oar in and gravely advised her to be careful and not drink too much Pimms and fall into a flowerbed.

Today was the opposite, not just the successor, of yesterday. It rained heavily at pickup time but by Wednesday Park time, it was sunny with blue skies.

We couldn't let the side down so got a football to kick onto the roof and hastened round (with extra-big boots and spare raincoats in the bag). There was nobody there. A text to Ben went unread so we carried on regardless. But half an hour later, the rain started again and you could see it wasn't going to stop. Even the surly teenagers sulk-posing by the slide said Poldarks to this and left, as did the keenest of the dog-walkers, with their very dishevelled dogs. We got home without handing Ben his new Darth Vader toy, but at least when we got back, the sun came out. It is April.
This gave me time to practise this week's spellings. I was moved to tears at the unfairness of it all, the height of trauma weighs upon me, no naughty daughter ought to laugh.
Today I learn I am to inherit my great-grandfather's sword and medals. As a Colonel in the Artillery, he got both and I already have his uniform in the loft for when I reach his dizzying height (5 foot 1).

Sliding down the razor blade of life

Still dark when I left for work this morning.

I'd better do well at school or I'll be printing shipping labels for the rest of my life, and seeing the way it's going, retirement age will be 120 by the time I get there.
I see the candlelight vigilantes are out in force again. Do you have to conform by only using a cheap white stick candle from Mr Cheaposave, or would a 17 inch Harrods altar candle do just as well? Will it do any better at bringing the dead person back to life?
Anyway, it bucketed down 5 minutes before school pickup time but I scared away the clouds with my sunny visage. I won a Golden Book sticker today for inventive use of colour in a symmetrical penguin chick picture, and a "Well done" sticker for good listening when everyone else was mucking about.

He forced me into reading "Planes" which is a factual book about all forms of aeronautical vehicles. All of a sudden I understood why books can be beneficial and insisted on finishing it, although that had to happen in the car on the way to gymnastics as we'd run out of time. In gym I did many new things such as the angled beam, pike dismounts and having to go off for a wee half-way through.

We did manage to get to the park afterwards although it did rain quite a bit. I insisted on taking my scooter so I could negotiate the road signs drawn on the path: I signalled left (but turned right) and waited dutifully at the Zebra crossing.

Drinking the bathwater

Well, that was a fun walk to school. I have destroyed my own umbrella by pretending it was a walking stick and banging it on the pavement - which resulted in the shaft parting company with the spokes. So I took Jofs' brolly, leaving her to soak thoroughly in the freezing arctic air.
The leaves are falling off the trees. This is not because it's Autumn, but because the wind is gusting at 90 mph. Follower Corinne got back from a Mediterranean holiday and wondered why it was dark. In school the Reception year kiddies started school and we learned a new song with many words, of which all I can remember is "The big red combine harvester, chop chop, thresh, thresh". It is unrelated to the 1976 chart-topper by The Wurzels. Playtime was marred by the rain, the whole playground was one big puddle so we couldn't go out at all, I doubtme that any crops survived to be harvested by the big red combine harvester. In Beaver Scouts we pressed on with our new badge - Emergency Protocols. We are presented with a myriad of possible disasters eg somebody electrocutes themselves on a plug, the house is on fire or a passenger is seen plummeting from the sundeck of the Isle of Wight Ferry. In every case the correct response seems to be to summon a large ambulance, although in the case of the burning building, you are advised to leave said fiery edifice before making the call. Then we finished early for some reason and I filled the time by demonstrating my scooter to my peers who probably all have a bigger and better scooter than mine. My audience was agog when I pressed the little handlebar release buttons, but then I shoved one handle back in too far, missing the clasp so the nob thing clicked into place on the central shaft, instead of the correct hole. Thus I was left with a terminally disabled scooter, with one short handle and the other hanging down on a cord. I carried it home. To make up for it, I had the held-over Bath Fizzer Night. On a Monday? How delightfully decadent.....

Precipitation

Woke at 10am to rain. It's not really due to stop for 4 days so I hope Wednesday park is unaffected.

Because it was clearly going to be an inside day, we went to Giant Tesco in Havant so that Jof could take me round Hobbycraft, which is one of ErinsMums favourite places. There was a ball of wool bigger than me, I reckon they forgot to take the sheep out. We got pipe cleaners and paper and stickers and polystyrene balls and rubber mats and ribbons and more. Curiously Jof also bought a witch hat with added spiderweb. It's a bit big for me.
When Jof went back to bed I watched a film (Dinosaurs, again) and lined up all my toy cars and planes and helicopters and ships and tanks and little pewter Henry the 8ths and re-enacted every war the earth has ever had. I even found time to do a book review (Rabbit's surprise birthday) for my homework. When Jof returned, I challenged her to Monopoly.
The weatherguessers have put us on bright orange flashing alert for the swim to school tomorrow. Kayak, anyone?

Newtooth™ connectivity

Ricin (Castor oil bean plant) - deadly poison

Some ashes (formerly blind Uncle Len) were scattered in a garden of remembrance in rural Kent today.
Had an extremely slow long-drawn-out breakfast and sauntered off to Tunnel Park on my scooter. Spotted another Darth Vader head in the charity shop and immediately thought of my mate Ben, it has a ball-bearing maze game inside and breathes like him when you open it, like one of those old-fashioned unfolding mobile phones. Maybe in the near future phones will be embedded in the jaw and you'll just have to think "Ring Ben" to yourself and a little screen will come up inside your eyeball.

A little story I wrote in 2008.

Way back in the 2020s, wearable computers were popular and the tech was already there to embed microcircuitry directly into the human body, but cultural resistance meant it never really caught on until 2028 when a Swedish company finally found a willing market wider than just a few freaks and government agents. Thus, Borg Technology was born (and bjorn again) with the dental implant phone its first product, powered by heat from the bloodstream and cosmetically identical to the molar it replaced. Subsequent products such as the 50 petabyte flash chip inserted behind the ear made a mockery of academic examinations and by the 2050s it was rare to find an un-enhanced child in any western kindergarten.

From the very beginnings of sapient beings, dreams ruled the night. Domesticated wolves and steppe nomads alike twitched in their sleep as they relived the hunt of the day: civilised man from the Phoenicians to the baby boomers searched in vain for lost shoes and made speeches naked. A small proportion sleepwalked, although this was not selected for in clifftop communities.

Thus was the greatest weakness of the Newtooth™ phone exposed. The first implantees used them in the same way as previous generations of phone users, from walking down the street with a brick clamped to your ear to chatting amiably to yourself with a lightweight earpiece. But these were thought-activated, and if in your dream you needed to call someone, the brain switched on the Newtooth™ and made the call. And even if you were asleep, the phone at the other end would ring just as loudly. The first to notice were the all-night Police call centres, with Newtooth™-enabled sleepdiallers outnumbering genuine emergencies......

After lunch Bud noticed I hadn't moved from in front of the TV for an hour so brought me a Pops. We played nicely for hours and made fans and did drawings and made a jellyfish on a stick. Our roleplays have moved on - 2 years ago it was always cats'n'dogs: last year we were married and her job was to provide packed lunches and wonder when I'd get back from the pub. Today we set up home in Box #8 and discussed how to get our children up and breakfasted before school. When my Pops was eventually taken from me, I went straight back to the TV with chocolate, a classic comfort-replacement strategy.
During supper (Sausage Time!) we had the usual trouble - 1,526 channels and nothing on. We found the Wizard of Oz just starting. I was transfixed..... it explains so much about the Simpsons, Futurama and so forth. I'm only 6 so I've seen the ripoffs before the originals, so haven't yet understood the references.
Bath fizzer night was postponed because I only went upstairs at 1015.

Bobbing for pomegranates

Friday once more! Leapt and bounded out of school until Erin chased me with a kiss. This was a large painted kiss with added love heart in bright kissy colours which was quite well painted but I ran for it when she chased me (Give it 10 years for a role reversal). Bud caught me, inverted me and suspended me for her to smother, I was not amused.
At home, he'd brought back a whole roll of obsolete labels that were going to be thrown away. So I (naturally and au naturel) adorned Box #8 with the whole lot, inside and out.
Friday is swimming day but not this time. The heating system had malfunctioned leaving the water temperature borderline legal. I do not react well to cold water: due to my Zero body fat I tend to turn blue and seize up, which is potentially fatal in water (I did it in the Pyramids Centre where it's supposed to be warm). Thus we took the voucher for a free swim and wandered off to Victoria park to use up the time I'd normally be wet for.
It was fairly deserted, just groups of students on the lawns trying to find themselves, and odd teenage girls with their unusual conversations on the swinging baskets. I had a go on everything including the horizontal climbing pine tree and we walked back through Guildhall Square with its many discarded Red Bull cans which are ideal for football.
In Tesco I found an unscratched £100,000 national lottery scratchcard. It didn't win. In the evening we all gathered in the Box room and glued on hundreds of little petals, leaves and so forth that Jof had cut out of coloured paper. She even made a lotus flower. It'll be a shame when we destroy it and burn it, but at least it'll be pretty.

Why not Zoidberg? (V)_(●,,,●)_(V)

Today is my scheduled revisit to LittleMax's house, before he moves away (he'll still be in my class, just won't be walking to and from school).
On the way I explained the Lego Ninjago team:
● Sensei (teacher)
● Red Ninja: Firepower. He has a red dragon which also has firepower.
● Green Ninja. Earthquake Power. His dragon is green with 4 heads and balls in its mouth.
● Blue Ninja. Water power. His dragon is blue and has a gun in its mouth.
● Purple Ninja. Poison Smoke Power. His dragon has 3 heads.
● White Ninja. Ice Power.

They all have snakes and dragons of the corresponding colour: there are many more. It is possible that I am not absorbing my schoolwork because my brain is full of this vital yet arcane ninja-related data.
Erin wanted to go on a date but she had to go shopping, I would have been double-booked anyway.

Arrived at LittleMax's house and immediately we removed clothing and hopped about hootling. This is normal. He has plastic castles and weaponry that isn't quite Lego so we made a vast diorama of death and had a good old goodies versus baddies war, with strongmen, guards, people sneaking in the back door dressed as laundry operatives, the lot.
We weren't impressed at going home time but at least we met Erin's friend Jack who lives opposite.
He forced me to read this week's book which is about an Owl and his rabbit friend who is sad that nobody has remembered his birthday. "What do you want for your 8th birthday?" said Owl. "Not to be eaten by an owl!" said Bud.

A Preacher of Habit

Following the death of the self-declared Reverend Mr Moon, his cult "Moonies" is now leaderless and I think there is room in the market for another false Messiah/charismatic kleptocrat full of tartuffery and dogmatic contradiction. Thus, the "Munglies" will receive soul-washing as well as brainwashing, they will put all their worldly wealth into the holy receptacles (my savings accounts) in order to achieve enlightenment, and, er, lemme think, they will all wear revealing togas that fall open when they bend down to pick up a pencil. Yes, that's it, Jesus appeared to me at the top of the curly slide and said I must continue his unfinished business of preparing humanity for the Immanentisation and ascent into the sacred starship, um, and, yup, the pious pilgrims have to shed their money and clothing to save on weight on the inter-dimensional trans-reality journey. They will all sign their wills (wills will be provided) and consume the sacrosanct transmogrification powders (full of natural herbs and spices) before I abscond with the loot, I must have my preacher comforts!

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Today is also National Talk Like A Pirate Day (USA only) with many prizes on offer for dressing up in unlikely costumes and wearing an accent that veers between Plymouth, Cornwall, and Plymouth, Wisconsin. "Souper-soize moi treasure, arr, me purple hearties".

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Wednesday Park! A little late because I invited Erins' friend Jack to play in Box #8, even if it was just for 5 minutes. He was highly impressed but was also jealous of my Lego collection. Bobert was on his own today because Johnny has had a headache for 2 days and their Mum was talking to the builderman about kitchen cabinets.

Ben joined us presently and we found Football Harry and started to play cricket with a football and light sabres, as you do. Lots of known faces were in the park.

Later it was real football and chocolate, chasing/attacking and so forth, and when it was only the 3 of us left we took it in turns to kick the big football up onto the sloping roof of the Barn and also tried to wedge sticks and bundles of dried grass in the gutter, as you do. We were good and didn't have any arguments or howlrounds. Are we finally maturing? At one point we all burst into competing song: Bobert - 'World shut your mouth', Ben - 'I'm a sexy boy', me - 'YMCA'.

In the end we put our shirts back on (not necessarily the right way out) and delivered Bobert home.

The hole in my soul where the rain gets in

It rained last night which was handy, as it washed away the skidmark-scrapies from where the dogpoo mountains in our gateway were removed last night.
In the end it was a hot day and I had to peel off my school uniform.
At Gymnastics I still didn't get a #6 badge. This is because some in my group are still working for their #7 badges: the group approach is all very egalitarian but holds us advanced pupils back.
After a quick go in Mountabatten Park (cut short by a biting wind) we drove home slower than I could have walked. It turned out to be football again (Swindon) and we couldn't park in our road: he dropped me off with the doorkey and went off in search of a space in the distant turnpikes of Southsea.
Fortunately Pops was waiting for her mum - she had the keys to car #2 so nobody was going anywhere without her - so I brought Pops inside to play in Box #8. She then brought Sister Ruby who still likes boxes: she brought her friend as well. So Jof was totally confused by 4 running gabbling children while trying to cook. You've got to laugh.
I laughed with my second helping of pasta, but sulked for half an hour when required to eat 10 small blueberries before the chocolate pig-out course.

Wo ist Waldemar?

Happy Birthday to Jof, although it may not be as she's working.
One of my favourite books is "Where's Wally". There is a US/Canada equivalent where you seek Waldo: are there others? ¿Dónde está Waldo, waar is Wally, است که در آن عالی?
After school we walked straight to the post office to post a parcel of wool to Nanna. The little tiny sub-post office is a time-warp of its own with leather passport holders, plastic rainstorm hoods, individually priced envelopes of many sizes and a sweetie selection in the old-fashioned tubs. Everything seemed to be 74p/qtr, which confused me. I bought a qtr of chocolate cones with sprinkles on top and I got a small paper bag of them and 6p change, which now makes sense to me.

We just had to stop off at the park on the way back, because it was full of my friends, and we chased and jumped etc.

As we headed home, we met Ben at the crossroads. He had brought some pressies for Jof and had also noticed the 2 massive piles of canine excrement some local hounds had generously left right by our front gate.

This was a splendid excuse to go straight back into the park and we climbed the bush again and tried to strip it of all remaining foliage. Eventually I had to leave because of Beaver Scouts and Ben tried to get run over, no road licence for him.

In Beavers we started on the first aid and emergency response badge and Jof was late back because she'd had a birthday lunch with ErinsMum and gone to the pub after work.

In other news, Grandma and Grandad have put their names down on a new retirement place, put their house on the market and installed an ensuite shower in the bedroom. Honestly, it's like glaciers, nothing for millenia then the entire ice sheet ups sticks and emigrates.

My magnetic personality

The day started badly for Jof at 3 in the morning when the students next door woke her up with their noise. I guess when you're a first-year student in a new town with people you don't know then beer-talking loudly in the garden at 0300 is par for the course, as you strive to re-invent yourself as someone interesting. Didn't help Jofs' sleep, though.

After breakfast it was time to perform the magnet experiment. This has been a long time in the planning stages and yesterday we installed a series of magnet pairs on my army greatcoat and some sturdy jeans (venom wearing denim) and kept the sleeves separate using a broomstick, more recently used as a bonfire prodder.

I put on the magnetic trousers and stumped oddly down the street, like an old sailor man who has had too many friends. Bud carried the jacket-on-a-broomstick and Jof tried to pretend she wasn't with us.

Once we'd waddled down the secret passageway alongside the football ground, we got to the carpark where we saw it was full - they do a car boot sale every Sunday. This was an unexpected setback as really we wanted to do this unseen - but we pressed on anyway. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ben drove up to us and they all laughed. They'd sold off another lot of junk and got £29 each, Ben had promptly spent some of his loot on a fierce plastic man in a cape, derivation unknown.

Question. How many neodymium alloy computer hard drive magnets does it take to securely stick a small child to a lorry? Answer: 18

In the corner of the car park was our target: 3 steel shipping containers by the generator. It was fenced off, so we removed the fence and I put the magnetised jacket on, and he removed the broomstick. I am now a style guru, pioneering the magnetic look. A security guard ambled over and assumed I was having a wee but then he looked bemused as Bud lifted me up and attached me to the steel wall with a series of bangs as all the magnets engaged. OK, so the posture could be improved, but the theory is good and the experiment was a success. Nobody else does this kind of stuff, life is fun if you laugh at it. We could definitely have used fewer magnets - I'm not exactly heavy. Sadly, as he struggled to remove me, 2 trouser-magnet pairs attracted and pinched some skin on the back of my leg which was V painful. There is a fix for this.

At some point in the future we will require Bud and some of my PuddleFriends for the next stage of this ongoing spectacle, based on this but much more spectacular, O for the chance to do it properly.

Later Jof took me to Marks and Spencer for a toastie sandwich. I had to pay for this by trailing around the shop looking at jumpers and shoes and other pointless items but that's life. At least I got 2 bath fizzers and some blackcurrant-scented body scrub jelly.

Meanwhile he ran again to make up for yesterday's slow one. Then I obtained Pops to play in Box #8, (see "Cardboard: Joy of Box" link on the right hand side) her beauty only slightly marred by a missing tooth. Then Baby Edward got in with us and made it to the top, he loved it too.

We took Jof to Mozzarella Joe's on the seafront for her birthday dinner, for she is even older tomorrow. We threw rocks into the sea before and after the meal, of all the foreign delights I could have had, I chose chicken nuggets. We all had pudding and were stuffed. It got dark while we were in there, all the lights looked very pretty and you could see the [flashing indicator lights associated with the] car alarms going off on the Wightlink ferry. We should come down here again for Buds' or my birthday - it'll be pitch black by 5pm so the lightshow should be even better.

The day of going backwards

At the crack of 10am PopsMum rang the doorbell to collect Bud for a run. Morning runs are only done by strange obsessives: LittleMax and I had our own theory about it a couple of days ago which we voiced very loudly on the pavement but he said 'Pull the other one, for it hath klaxon, she's not going to want to kiss some ginger baldy'. They returned 15 minutes later than expected and I was still playing Ludo with Jof.

We dropped Jof at her hairdressers and returned to do our normal bottlebank tour. It was much later than usual so the roads had filled up with football traffic. One extra problem was a road closure caused by a crash right outside our old PuddleNursery where we saw 2 paramedics giving CPR and oxygen to a prostrate man on the road to try and stop him dying. They'd cut off his clothes and not far away we saw his rather dead motorcycle. I do not want a motorbike.

At Tunnel Park we met Football Harry and not-so-little Ollie and recruited a small unknown child to help us attack-chase our usual suspect. The traffic had not abated when we returned (via the butchers for our breakfast). After a lunch break we hit LIDL for those little juices that Erin put me onto, and both of us found pound coins. Finally Jof got home after nearly 3 hours in the hairdressers, poor girl. I think it may be easier without hair.
To add insult to injury, Pops was busy with her Other Friends so I couldn't slyly invite her into my giant box with its mood lighting and modesty curtain. Overall, a great day full of activity and yet also of relaxation, Saturdays are good because you're not in a hurry.
Requested Youtube videos after bath fizzer night: Lou Ferrigno changing into the Hulk, more volcanic eruptions and Led Zep's Stairway live with the double-ended guitar.

'Cos I'm the real thing baby

Happy Friday to all!
An Ohio woman made the annual trip to Florida with her disabled group. In the hotel she unzipped her suitcase and out popped her cat (unscathed) that had climbed in for a nap, been packed and shipped by bus and plane on a 10-hour flight. The X-ray and explosive detectors at customs didn't find it, but I ask - has it been sterilised? Will the owner sue for loss of feline parental rights or raised risk of cancer from the dose of X-rays? Also, are all her holiday clothes covered in cat poo?

Anyway, LittleMax got the school prize today. At home I demanded a kukri, to be made out of cardboard rather than burnished steel. It's a practice one, I shall create another from the thicker cardboard from the windows of Box #8. I took it to the park where we met Flynn (has moved schools) and Zak (also about to move house, although not voluntarily). I wonder if we'll ever be able to move, half the Puddlers have done it already and now known associates are doing it too.

We have magnetised my army overcoat for an experiment into discovering how many magnets it will take to safely attach one 6 year-old to a steel shipping container. Watch here for results.

At swimming I did really well for a second-week Yellow Hat, but my group is now 7 or 8 strong so very different from the Orange Hat group I was promoted from (3 pupils). In the car park we pigged on blackberries, for free food is good food.

Jof joined in Box Madness by making me a brightly coloured curtain for the door from a piece of material she'd bought specially. Bud didn't construct the box with adult access in mind so I had to help install it, and now it's excellent.

Down at the Möbius strip joint again

Dodder! Next thrilling episode in the saga of old people prevaricating and avoiding decisions! This week, Grandma and Grandad, who have agreed they may need to move house, have an appointment to view a retirement village! Expect more great shuffles forward in the next instalment, slowly, and only when they remember!

This afternoon Bud was lucky enough to pick up LittleMax as well as me from school. No good reason, but his Mum was on double yellow lines and is allergic to traffic wardens. Instantly I made good on my plan to slyly inveigle him into my house to play in Box #8 and he was as impressed as the rest of them. We shot ping-pong balls out of the cannons and played anti-aircraft spacetanks and alien flammenwerfen and LittleMax ate all 3 packets of the crunchy cheesy corn balls that I don't like which was handy.

We took him home at the allotted time to find a trampoline in his back yard. It's amazing how fast we can move when parents are talking to each other and we won a replay by grumping when it was time for me to go. This rematch had better happen soon given that his Mum has in fact sold her house and bought another a few roads away.

Then we searched for a metal surface good enough for a very special magnet project that Bud has devised. We found 3 shipping containers behind the football stadium that will do just fine. Another 53 Scorpion Moruga chillies were pulped lending an acrid atmosphere to the kitchen.

Honky Tonk Stomp party

Didn't want to get up today either, I must be a teenager.

School was easier today and we got an extra playtime.

When we got home he said undo the knotted arms of my jumper (round my waist) and I said I understood knots. So he came back a minute later with me with my feet on 1 arm and my hands on the other, pulling the knot tight for all I was worth and crying and shouting at it. It wasn't a good time.

Eventually I managed it by refusing to move until he did it for me, a tactic that has worked well for me over the years. We got to Wednesday park a little late because of this shouty episode and Ben and the JBs and Erin met me straight away. We headed for the bush and climbed it again, stripping off more and more branches, weighing it down and denuding it further. When we headed back to the swingpark we all had at least 1 branch and jumped around like a lot of little Morrisseys until it rained.

The backup plan was to retire to ours, luckily Box 8 is up and running so we all totally invaded my house and thumped and bumped and giggled in the giant box. We all became numbered 'Prirates'.

There were a few moans and groans for there's only 1 way up and down and only 2 coffins so we couldn't all have it our own way so some of us decamped to play Lego. When they left we cleared up the room just in time for Jof to get home.