The Hobbits win the Race

Grandma and Grandad have exchanged contracts on their country estate and will move next week. Come down and help us unpack, they say. Not that we've got anything to do ourselves.....
At school pickup time I told Bud he had to have a meeting with the Teacher. Oh dear, he said, what have you done now. But no, she wanted boxes for moving house. Shall we just set up a cottage industry supplying bespoke packaging using the never-ending free cardboard mine that is the recycling bin at his work? Think how much Lego I could buy. Many of my schoolfriends asked me if I had had a haircut. No, I said, there was a fireball and it all burnt off. Our solicitors, however, are still sleeping. At this rate we'll miss the May bank holiday as well, we're already a month late.

It was a lovely day so after the usual battle with spellings (probably easier to hack into the Oxford English Dictionary word repository and change the official version from 'Ravenous' to 'Ravonace') we got to gym a little early and had the first decent park of the year.

In gym, the instructors say I have to improve my frog-balancing (easier than slug-balancing) to get my Badge #4, give it a couple of weeks. Then they asked if I had had a haircut. No, I said, some alien worms got me in the night and remoulded them in their own image. On the way home we were delayed by 2 fire engines, 2 ambulances and a police car that were blocking the road by the railway bridge after a van decided to use the pavement and hit 4 people.

Today's blast from the past is about the garden. Due to excessive composting, widdling on the compost heap, bonfire ash and magic secret ingredients, anything that grew in our arable pastures became a triffid. Except me.

Later, Poppy came round to invite me trampolining in her back garden, but Jof said no. Then she asked me if I'd had my hair cut. No, I said, but the brain scan I'd undergone for the benefit of medical science had needed a clean scalp.