The Yellow Plum Hamster Festival

This morning I woke up in a museum, but not because I'd been in stasis for 25,000 years. I had seconds of cornflakes.
Bensmum dropped me home and I wowed Jof with my salty stories of what I'd got up to in the Navy.
Todays plan is to cycle to Yellow Plum Park and meet up with the Puddlers: from there we will go to Bens' house and play silly beggars while the PuddleMummies drink Gin and eat complicated French cheese, which I bought for them. We will also hold a funeral service for the dead guinea pig, bereft of life, it rests in peace. The reason for this maternal Puddling is that the PuddleDaddies have invented yet another Beer Festival which is just an excuse to meet that nice newspaper photographer girlie and get in the paper again.
In the park we dragged branches back to the treeline to make dens. Erin had a box of millions of coloured rubber bands and we wove bracelets and rings out of them.
Back at Bens' place we ran riot as usual and the PiddledDaddies came to join us and some of them fell asleep. We couldn't cycle home as we don't have lights on the bikes so we walked and got home after 1030.