Skyfall - on my head

Woke Jof up at 745 because I'd finished my book. I have created a rule that I can only read one book a day, so her entreaties to go away and read another book quietly in another country fell upon deaf ears attached to a noisy maniac.
It was relatively cold and rainy so this was never going to be nudist beach day. But in a coruscating flash of originality, I chose to scoot to Yellow Plum Park, which is exactly what I did yesterday.
The park was empty and damp so we hunted the lesser spotted yellow plums and I showed him the dens we made yesterday. One of our traps for Elizabeth involved a wide variety of red rosehips and hedge berries in a circle, with a damson in the middle. The idea was, she would tread on the damson releasing clouds of red juice, which would scare her rigid and enable us to sneak up on her and do something hideous and inappropriate, no doubt. It is well known in our circles that an artistic arrangement of coloured fruit will confound and befuddle small girls.
However Beth is more likely to develop rampant bloodlust fever and attack us...
In typical mission creep, I then decided we had to cross Ben's Bumpy Paths on a thoroughly unsuitable scooter and do some excavating by the shoreline for treasure and long-lost antique artworks. Ben and I fervently believe that the Army had secret tunnels under the reclaimed land where they stored all the gold and diamonds and Old Master oil paintings in case of invasion by the nasty Nazis, and it is there still, waiting for a couple of unlikely lads such as us to uncover them and become rich.
Thus, we sit upon the Digging Rock (a particularly long lump of concrete level with the first lake) and scrape away at the sea defences, doing our bit for coastal erosion and prizing every bit of broken pottery we find, for it is treasure.
My helper found me some broken tile and some random metal spike and I dug away happily, while he left a secret message for Ben on the Message Rock (about 10 yards north of the Digging Rock). It rained a bit but we didn't mind, Hayling Island was getting the thunderstorm.
Eventually we left and I insisted we go back to the park and improve the Elizabeth trap, in case she ventured out that day. We collected several different berries, seed pods and so forth, including deadly nightshade. Either all the small girls from Moorings Way infant school will be mysteriously addled and stupefied, or a lot of pigeons will get fat.
On the way back the heavens opened just after Erin's house and we became bedraggled in no time. Of course it had stopped by the time we got home (he had to push me again) but Jof leapt out brandishing a towel and ululating the famous war cry "Oh my poor little booble-wooble, let me envelop you..." etc. It's good to have a mother.