No Ordinary Ordnance

Saw Jof off to work and settled down for a quiet day's Minecrafting. Bud interrupted this perfectly reasonable plan by making me do my homework which is to write a job application for my dream job.

I had already done the rough draft where I detailed my extensive experience, official qualifications and willingness to do the job, so I only had to transfer it to the application form in neat handwriting. But I made a few mistakes early on and that ruined it for me so I got angry and cut out a lot of it which made it easier ie shorter.

We got to my acting lesson 2 minutes early and I was there for at least 2 1/2 seconds before I realised that acting was off this week due to half-term so we left the car there and walked into town and saw Jof again and played in Victoria Park. We saw the 2 armed policepersons outside the Navy Wardroom opposite HMS Nelson, amazingly at the same time that Commercial Road was sealed off by lots of armed cops because of the crazy guy taking hostages in a shop using a machete. We missed the whole thing by 50 yards.

We bought lots of drinks in LIDL including a 1.5 litre Chianti and a packet of 20 rockets (Sky Shuttle Star Burst) for Bonfire Night, or to defend our homestead from those naughty trickle-treaters. It is my job to deal with the Skelingtons and Draclias because up until last year, I was one myself and I know the way the greedy little freeloaders work. OK, I dressed up as the Terminator last year, but who's counting. This year I feel just that little bit too old to join in.

Here the rockets sit in a 1975 12 centimetre naval shell case off a Dutch ship, made by weapons manufacturer Bofors of Sweden. Cunningly grouped into fives of four different sizes, they all have their own sticks so they can get their own back on us by hitting us on the head.

In the end, I served about a dozen Trickle-Treaters and retained vast amounts of Halloween candy for myself, can you think of anyone more deserving?

The Madness of King Dong

Fridays are happy days. So I attended the 3rd day in a row at the Stasis Booth (formerly known as the Sweatbox, but that was in the summer) and it was fun as usual.

The poor adult operatives have to cope with a lot during these high days and holidays, or perhaps you can only cope with the holidays if you're high.

At one point at least 3 kids were crying so I kept out of it with my latest book. We did do some junkyard creationism (you never know what's going to evolve) with the coffin of goodies from Bud's work and then we did Over-9s Swimming.

I always love this apart from the tummy-skin rashes you get off the flotation devices. But they've got new, milder floats now and my skin is babysoft ... but that's a story for another day.

Incidentally, for those who couldn't find me in yesterday's picture of me playing hide'n'seek in the dark - here's the same picture with the lights on.

In swimming, we ganged up on the adult leaders because deep down, we're all, er, persons whose parents were not married. I am a competent swimmer so swam underwater and undiscovered behind one adult, pulled down his trunks and pushed him upwards and we all totally saw his willy and we all laughed but it was ok because we were all boys together, the girls had overwhelmingly opted to see the afternoon film which was not 'Frozen' or similar, but 12 episodes of Tom'n'Jerry.

So of course he whipped his panties back up again pronto but Bud said that adults in charge of kids are very allergic to that kind of thing because of prior difficulties with Priories and stuff, where Jim just can't fix it.

Then it was time for my normal actual swimming lesson and I did well and in the changing room afterwards the rest of them were loud and slow and I was out first and told all the waiting Mummies how slow their kids were ie " Child A is still in his trunks, Child B is in socks only, Child C etc etc." and as I left, the male changing rooms were invaded by lots of angry Mummies, ho ho.

My dear friend and follower Martin (who I still mix up with Blind Uncle Len who died 3 years ago, aged 92) had a clothy-type package delivered to his work so we brought it home and delivered it to him, as he is currently off with madness.

Right outside his house is some graffiti - a threatening mural of a malevolent smoke-Zombie, enough to make anyone scared to leave the house, most unfair.

He was gibbering on the floor but has long enough arms to reach the doorhandle so I gave him his shirt and he said he had to talk to the green people about the giant spiders and so we went home, where Jof 'went to the gym' for the second Friday night running.

A Shot in the Dark

So it was Day 2 in the Stasis Booth and the morning session was Fruit Art.

They have to be as inventive as we are to fill the long days and Fruit Art isn't bad. I made a CaterKiller which is a chimeric cross between a very hungry caterpillar and a mass murderer, not necessarily the good one off Con Air but why not. His eyes were made of spirals of orange slices and his head was bigger than his body, and in the best traditions of cannibalistic psychopaths, I got to eat him afterwards (Sancerre not available at Daycamps).

The afternoon activity was Night Games which sounds mighty suspicious but we just turned all the lights off, barricaded the doors and ran around in the pitch blackness hiding from the Hunter who had a small torch.

 I hid under all the bags and rucksacks and was caught second-last. Here I am in my epic hiding place, sorry it's a little blurred.

During this I sustained a twisted ankle during an unscheduled collision with a Running Man and I also got hit in the tummy with a jolly hockey stick, leaving a kiss-shaped bruise. But this is all normal and I was pulled out early to go to Extra Swimming.

We got there on time and the Herr Instruktor didn't. But in meedle of no time I was following orders that must be obeyed and I swam up and down and was used as a technique demonstrator 3 times and some of it I had to swim backwards, first time for that one.

Incidentally, when I put my coat on there was a black thing attached and Jof pulled it off to investigate and it was one of her knickers that had attached itself to the Velcro while in the washing machine. Thus I escaped a Life Perma-Trauma™, scoring a possible 6.5 on the Shrink-O-meter.

Stasis Booth: Day 1

Jof says I get 42 days of holiday, not sure whether to make a joke about the meaning of life or a 1980s pop band. But it does mean that they can't cover all my holidays unless we never have any time off as a family, so I have to do the week-long activity camps such as the watersports one, the acting one, the country-camp one or whatever new one we discover next year. And the oddment days are filled at the Stasis Booth, so that bit by bit, I age slightly less than everyone else in the world.

This time, Jof drove up, I jumped out of the open car door and rolled to a stop at the gate. First activity was Magic Show in which I made a £1 coin appear out of thin air, which was specially imported from Nepal.
We made chalk pictures and I did make a Lego creation but destroyed it, made some new friends but didn't destroy them, and there were 3 people I knew.

Bud picked me up early but dumped a coffin full of tubes and flats and pink foam etc, which we will investigate tomorrow with a view to making bazookas. And telescopes, rockets, lighthouses, Rapunzel-towers, and anything else cylindrical and erect that we can think of.

Mittens: Squirrelfinder General

And so it came to pass that I had a day off with Jof. This one started in traditional fashion with no movement until lunchtime when we took a bus into town and went squirrel-hunting.

Following Bud's assertion circa 1989 that there were no birds of the feathered variety in Pompey, they have been referred to since as holograms and when we found a bag of assorted nuts in the cake-making drawer that had seen better decades, we decided to feed them to the squirrels, only for Bud to cast similar aspersions upon our tree-dwelling brethren.

So I hunted them in Victoria Park and O yea, there were many and Jof took many images but they all came out blurred so a clever lawyer may well consider the case unproven.

Then I climbed on the many good wooden frames and nets and wires and Jof took some blurs of them too. In BHS we had a slap-up meal for only £11 which is not to be sneezed at and there was a really chocolatey cake in M+S and some Minecraft teddies in Wilkos.

I have a slight Minecraft habit but I can give it up any time, it doesn't hurt anyone and I'm always in control. So she slyly bought me a Minecraft Ocelot (yes) and a Minecraft Pig (I mean, who doesn't have one nowadays?) in the hope that I'd switch my attention to something in the real world and I spoke in tongues to my Mine-Animals and cuddled my beautiful blocky babies and took them home where I set them up on the computer desk and played Minecraft to them while explaining to them exactly what I was doing.

My Mine-Ocelot is called Mittens and my Mine-Pig is called Snuffles, after Sirius Black (you had to be there). I took Mittens to gymnastics to guard the car. Mittens has an annoying label sticking out of his butt, so yes, Mittens is going to get the snip. Don't tell him.

He's got the Whole World in his hands

The first day of a richly deserved half term break so I mostly played Minecraft, it is all I really want to do.

But because the TV has been offline, we had to wait for the engineer who was scheduled to visit some time before 4pm, which pretty well wrote off the day.
He forced me to do my own homework in which I applied for the job of 'Swimming Racer'.
I chose to re-watch 'Con Air' for lunch because it's funny. Apart from some Robert Earl Keen or Billy Joe Shaver or Ray Wylie Hubbard in the waterfront Redneck saloon at the beginning, some lovey-drivel and the ubiquitous Sweet Home Alabama, the only song is He's got the whole world in his hands as sung by the 6 year-old girl and the terrifying serial murderer Steve Buscemi. So this is the song that stuck in my head and I sang it to my new Minecraft world afterwards.

Then, as was readily predicted in the stars, the cable guy turned up at 2 minutes to 4 and plugged the cable back in for us, which miraculously made the set-top box work again.

So, fuelled by embarrassment and unused legs, we sped into town on our bikes without lights to buy the last 5 remaining Lemony Snicket books for my collection from a young lady who needed a bigger bra. I led the way home, chased by the gathering dusk, and at one point, ErinsDad, who chided us for not having lights on our bikes.

The Freaks and Deviants Parade 2015

I got up at a decent time but only because the clocks went back last night. We have a family tradition in this household of supporting each other during televised sporting events and today was no different apart from the abundant sunshine.

Bud went off for his Great South Run (4th time - I don't think he's ever going to win) and Jof and I percolated our way down the side streets to intercept him as usual. We have developed a little place where you can be sure of a viewing spot and took up our positions a little early because when the runners get there, it's somewhat challenging crossing the road.

Jof got coffee and I waited and scanned the passing (and puffing) contestants to see anyone we knew. Well, pretty soon I recognised a pair of Smurfs. These blue bombers were followed by Bud, Wonderwoman, Fred Flintstone, 2 guys riding camels, some Roman Gladiators and Elvis, the first sighting we've had of rock'n'roll royalty since that guy who was once in Dave, Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich took up residence in the Marmion Pub.

Elizabeth joined us and wanted food loudly. There was the sound of a million rubber raindrops upon the asphalt again and the faces were full of pain even though it's advertised as a fun run. The Smurfs' colour was running stripey a bit with the sweat.

But the raving runners hadn't finished and soon I saw a geezer in only a bright green thong a la Borat, a Batman and Robin duo (and an unrelated Freestanding Additional Voluntary Batman), several chaps with crabs on their backs, a gorilla, a cricketer, Mario, loads and loads of blokes in ballerina tutus, a daffodil and the English Sombrero Appreciation Club (Southern Division).

This is one of the joys of living in an island nation who has possibly not had a girlfriend for a while or whose population is just happy and accepting of their slender grip on reality.

Anyway, I cheered and shouted helpful slogans and we got warm in the sun because the dreaded Death Wind of 2 years ago failed to return and Bud (1 hour 12 minutes, coming 846th - even I managed 295th!) came to meet us and we saw ElizabethsDad and went home for lunch. This is when we found that the set-top box had died irretrievably so any footage of the race was lost forever, thanks Virgin and all those involved in the hard disc drive industry.

So we phoned Grandad and made him laugh and then I watched my Dinosaurs DVD again while Jof did complicated cooking. Bud started on beer so we'll see him tomorrow.

The Road goes on Forever (and the Party never ends)

Saturday morning so I got a lie-in and emerged, naked, into the world and sat down immediately to commune with Minecraft Mega-Player 'Stampy Longnose', my hero.

Bud only had to ask twice for me to agree to wear pants, and only a further 3 times to eat some grapes for breakfast, because I sit in front of the computer with my mouth open and my brain closed which gives me all the comfort and nutrients I need. Clothes, food, and sorting out my stuff for the day ahead are for wimps.

In my acting lesson, we went over our lines many times and I'm sure I'll make an epic Victorian street urchin and I am now lead goose as Bertie was away and I got rave reviews as his understudy. But I was pulled out of the lesson early to go on the Great South Junior Run.

Cycling to the event, I got a bit tired which put me at a disadvantage. The man on the loudspeakers went on and on about how we were just about to start so I rushed into my running shorts and made it just in time to stand there for 15 minutes while he shouted at us.

The Junior 12-15 age group were super-keen and then it was our turn and I saw Johnny and Robert and Thomas and lots of other known faces and the Tannoy bloke said go slow and steady so I did and brought up the rear of the group from the start.

We had an extra loop (to Mozzarella Joes) to go round to make it the full distance and I walked a bit and many known parents came over and gave me high fives or extra encouragement. There was an empty road and a storm in my rearview but the rain never quite got started.
The road certainly seemed to go on forever (I bet the adults don't have to run this far) but the friendly cheers helped me power forward into 295/305th place by the final stretch and the man with the microphone gave me a special announcement as I crossed the line (17 minutes) and I got my goodie-bag and I met up with the JBs afterwards.

I was tired after the cycle ride home so sat on the sofa eating Words From Stampy for lunch. It was over an hour before I realised that my stomach was the black hole in the centre of the galaxy and I had to make my own lunch (pizza with broccoli, cold chicken, grapes and ice cream). If this getting-off-your-butt-and-doing-it-yourself lark is preparation for real life, I don't want any part of it.
Later I had a foamy bath for muscular relaxation purposes and tired Jof stole my sofa.

Nothing Dentured, Nothing Gained

Today was the end of term so we got the usual bonus Mufti Day (£1) and Open Day (parents get to see schoolwork).

We were to have shown the videos of our group musical interpretation sessions on the theme of War of the Worlds but the server couldn't cope with our radical visionary experimental performance and froze, which at least saved the parents from lasting mental scarring.

We did however destroy the Viking homesteads (that our parents worked so hard to produce) using the pyramidal catapults and some tennis balls. Mine lasted for at least 2 shots before capitulating like a medieval city wall made of bulrushes but some others lasted longer.

Then I shot off early because I could, and at the dental appointment the nice tooth-driller said I had improved my brushing skills and then we found £2.60 in the road. I was given grapes for my afternoon snack, but some likely lad had ruined them totally by adding seeds. I mean, what's the point?
After my swimming lesson, all us chaps in the boy's changing room played 'Animal Farm' or was it 'Carnival of the Animals'. We all had a favourite animal noise and I was Ecstatic Emu (for I do a goose impression that brings the house down) and the parents listening outside the door were almost scared to come in and find out what was going on, what with all the quarkling and the hooting.

Jof spent Friday night 'at the gym' so I simply got even more Minecraft.

Life in the Talent Lane

Don't be Drunk on this Staircase

Today Jof had to go to a nondescript office block in interesting town 'Reading' where she was taught how to do lots of boring back office tasks involving spreadsheets and columns of figures.

This was unfair for her as she had to get up really early to catch the slow train (change at Basingstoke, or was it Winchester), and it was unfair for me because Bud had to get me to school.

Thus I was awoken by the noise of 2 dustbin lids (ok, carpet slippers) being banged together and the full Sergeant Major Right then you Orrible lot get up get up there's only 2 types from Idaho which are you boy what time do you call this etc which I can tell you is not conducive to a happy morning experience.

I tried to get a PE sick-note for the damage on my hand (6 millimetre cut) but apparently it wasn't life-threatening enough. In PE I played football and actually did 3 keepy-uppies with overhead pass to myself and a shot on goal, and scored a goal in a separate incident in which the ball hit my leg and went in, even though I was looking the other way.

In IT we had to add an email signature and profile image so I simply typed in my own name + image search and came up with a million decent images from this blog and so my friends did the same and those that have featured therein filled their boots from my very own online resource.

Thursday is supposed to be my day off, but no longer. 'The Talent Lane' is the hour-long extra lesson for us high-achievers at the partially subterranean pool formerly used by the Scouts last week. We were slightly late but I soon wowed them with my straight-hand technique and arrow-straight dive and Herr Comrade Instruktor Boss Lady said I was good and I didn't win any of the races but I was up against silver hats, and I'm only little.

So I was quite tired but we had sausages and ice cream which helped me recover.

Back to the Farter

Back to the Future Day is here at last and we discover that rain and more rain is what the future holds in store for us.

I have, of course, sat in the DeLorean but I wasn't allowed to travel anywhere so I am currently trapped in this pathetic timeline waiting for the next node. Incidentally, I appear to have inherited rampant flatulence from one or more of my current parents so I am filling the time gassing them and seeking carminative herbs.

Wednesday Park was ON even though I secretly wanted to play Minecraft but we all played the usual scootering and Ball-Tag and Swing-Kick and Hanging-Basket-Spitfire and we all contrived to fall over in our own ways and I got sulky towards the end because I missed out on some sleep last night. For a while there I thought I had a massive splinter in my hand and was dreading the attack of the dissection kit (from Bud's A level biology) but it was just a cut full of mud.

Disco a-No-No

Today is the school Halloween disco, although due to modern political correctness it has to be termed a Ghostly Autumn Pumpkin Festival. I have been to one of these and dressed up like a Skelington with Ben and 97 others, but it was so hot and noisy and you're not allowed outside to cool down because you're unsupervised and all you get to eat are those very very very processed hot dog sausages where you just know it's made of hooves and lips and willies so I don't go to these events any more.

That might make me an old grumpy-codger but I am happy with my decision. Now that Jof is a member of the Friends-of-the-school, she gets to help out even though she is totally allergic to children. So she was tasked with buying 270 hot dog buns and cleaned out ASDA, and the bakery manager told her off for emptying the shelves. Spare a thought also for the poor checkout operator who had to go Bip Bip Bip 45 times with the same packet of 6 finger rolls.

So here is the tuck shop area of the disco, no cauldron of punch for the seniors to tip vodka into, but plenty of high-sugar energy foods for those quiet, reserved pupils in fancy dress, and an inflatable plastic bat.

Also note the giant skulls on the sub-woofers and light-up Skelingtons hanging from the disco light scaffold, a sight to send a shiver down the spine of anyone who has ever attended a school disco in the assembly hall/gym. Marche au supplice, anyone?

In school we had a group discussion about whether King Alfred the Cake-Burner deserved his suffix 'the Great'. Unification of the realm, fortifications and full employment were plus points, but consensus was that paying those naughty Vikings not to torch northern cities all the time was a real vote-loser.

In mathematics we have had a team competition to give a family of 4 a virtual holiday to Sydney for a week on a budget of about 8 grand. The harbour tour (4 hours, free fish lunch) cost 4 grand so funds were limited and so was the attention span of my partner who spent the whole time attempting to eat his pen. In the end we actually won, because I noticed that the cheaper rental-car option still had the required amount of luggage space, so everyone else blew their wad hiring the Stretch Limo and we pootled along perfectly happily in the Fiat Crudmobile and we didn't have to sell any of the children to make the air fare home again.

In gymnastics I finally got my Badge 1 even though I had serious trouble doing the contortions, aerobic calisthenics and feats of balance required for the next level.

I am Golden Pig

In 'Celebration' Assembly (weekly exultation event in which prizes, medals and certificates are handed out) today I was summoned to be given a 100% Perfect Certificate of Achievement for Focused Work and Fantastic Effort during Guided Reading (although on the certificate itself, it's spelt Reaading - probably end up as a novelty collectable).
Pupils in my year have been given the chance to attend a week-long residential Study Workshop in the summer. We were warned that only a set number of kids could go, and if over-subscribed, names would have to be pulled out of a hat. Amazingly, only exactly the right number of people applied so the playground was full of us giving the good news to the waiting parents, who will of course be honoured to pay the £226 fee. Actually, that's possibly a decent price to pay for a week of silence. Jof says that they'll go on one of those nice SAGA holidays.
In Scouts I usually play HogPig with Rowan. He is fairly diminutive so I can give him a piggy-back: he plays Golden Hog and I am Golden Pig and he tries to eat me so I run away, with him on my back. Confused? You will be.
Anyway, I headed back to the church of Portents, Miracles and Mystic Smoke for the Scout meeting and us Cubs have decided on the migrant crisis for our next charitable activity, and will be collecting warm clothes and camping equipment for those unfortunates stuck the wrong side of a fence. We discussed all the countries supplying these displaced peoples and one of them was Niger, I made a hemi-demi-semi-pronunciation error and was told off lots.

Alea Jacta Est

In no particular hurry today so got into Jof's bed and regaled her with stories of Minecraft.

She went out with the PuddleMummies last night but it was a low-key event and they hardly had any of that fizzy stuff that makes them giggle. But they did give Jof a special Pizza lover's Pizza in its own delivery box which I could get used to. We pigged most of it today, she needs help so I volunteered.

One of my homework components is a dice-rolling game which you have to do against an adult and record the results. Jof was the only qualifier in the house so I played her and she won but we did fill in the grid of victories and permutations and probabilities.

We haven't played Risk for ages so I absolutely insisted and set the game up after Jof had got back from Gym and we'd eaten. I get very animated when playing Risk and constantly update opposing players on their options by waving my hands over the board and repeating myself at top volume, for otherwise, how would they know what to do?

This caused some stress, they kept telling me to be quiet but I wasn't able to hear as I was busy explaining their options ... anyway, I was sent for my shower just when it was my go and that's incredibly unfair so I took the dice hostage and stomped the Huffy Honky Tonk Stomp all the way to Sulktown via Grumpington Broadway.

Solutions: Always in Triangles

It was Saturday but that did not mean a day off. First, Jof left us to go swimming or gymming.

Then, Grandad turned up and taught me how to make a right-angled triangle in a circle by drawing the diameter AB and linking both of those points to Point C which was anywhere you liked on the circumference. I of course tried to break the system by placing C only 5 degrees of arc away from B but that just proved the proof.

Then Team M drove to the theatre for my acting lesson. Grandad had a look upstairs at the proscenium arch and as I went up for my lesson, the wet area directly outside the door was where the staff chap had hosed the pavement down after a stabbing incident 20 minutes before we'd arrived. He was right, there was a trail of blood spots leading away towards the bus station.

A few years ago, we'd taken a train up to Petersfield and found much the same thing, a pool of blood surrounded by Policepersons at a bus stop and such a long trail of blood drips going in and out of various doorways along the High Street, we called him the Bleedin' Postman.

Anyway, I acted my little heart out while Bud and Grandad did the tour of the old city and bought me some new shoes and they picked me up with an added Jof and we all had lunch in the dockyard.

My macaroni cheese filled me right up and then we lost the 2 of them in the maze of museums and Jof had to ring Bud to meet up again.

Once Grandad had gone, I had a brief respite but then Jof went out for Champagne with the PuddleMummies at the Castle and the Scouts swimmathon began. I was aiming for Badge #3 and it was quite hard because of all the lengths and the 5 minutes treading water with one arm behind your back and the 3 lengths wearing someone else's shirt and trousers but James T and I both achieved the badge!

We all had nearly an hour of messing around in the pool which was predominantly diving until we discovered the secret hidden cache of flotation devices and all of a sudden we were all Captains of our own floaty-boats attacking each other with the floaty sausages and Bud pulled me out of the pool because I can't lift myself too well and I might be a little heavier than last year so he scraped my tits on the tiles on the side and it hurt.

For Saturday Night is Film Night we had Starship Troopers which was full of talk but also of giant burning bug plasma death and Kuato and Richter from Total Recall and nuclear weapons and the Kurgan from Highlander and lots of macho posturing and mixed shower scenes.

A Very Unfortunate Lemon

In Netball today I played in 4 separate positions and blocked 3 goals by reaching out and punching the ball as an interception, rather than actually blocking the goal for I am far too short for that.

I like Fridays because I get loads of free (Minecraft) time before swimming. But as of last month, I'm in Purple Hat Group which means the guy gets to lash us and whip us and the warm-up is 8 lengths, and it's well into the twenties by the end of the 30 minutes.

So we went into town early to buy me some books. I've been reading the Harry Potter series which is all very well, but I've read them all twice now so reluctantly agreed to try something new.

In Giant Waterstones we found the Lemony Snicket Events and got the next 3, and a display stand had a new David Walliams book so we got that and Bud saw a new Terry Pratchett so that came to £38 including 5p for the bag. We still don't remember to take a bag.

Outside, the fountain was frothing with washing-up liquid again. All the coins in the fountain (I cleared it out once) must be very clean, is that called money laundering?

After swimming I was headhunted again by the Pool Manager who has put me into the "Talent Lane" which means an extra hour in the pool on Thursday, which is currently my only day off. When better.

Bum-Banging Bonanza

At school we played hockey in PE which is risky in a school without playing fields. Thus there were many rules and we couldn't raise our jolly hockey sticks over ankle height or hit the ball off the ground due to the danger of broken windows or shinbones whether connected to kneebones or not.

Almost all of the Viking Homesteads have been completed. Many are half-size hovels, for the smaller pillaging rapist, some are full-size ie they fit onto a sheet of A4 paper like it says in the instructions. But 2 clever girls have made an inter-tribal agreement and collaborated on a single, larger warfarers base with extra carousing space and instant access portal to Valhalla and Valkyrie landing pad.

Jof has been working hard clearing out the cupboard under the stairs at school and gave us half a ton of unsold books to dispose of. So we added all of my clothes and shoes which I have outgrown and gave them all to the charitable bins in the supermarket car park, including the book bank that cut Jof's hand so much earlier in the week.

The thing I like about Thursdays is that even when you've finished real jobs like recycling books, I've still got 9 hours to watch Youtube videos of Vitamin D-deficient youths battling cuboid zombie sheep in Minecraft. The adults don't understand (must be a mental block).
I attacked Jof using my bum today, and not by emitting noxious fumes this time. She said my bum was big so we lined up against each other and charged backwards repeatedly, what I don't have in weight I made up in gusto.

Conker Moratorium

School was a mixture today. My girlfriend had drawn me a special card message and asked me specifically to hide it and not let anyone see it. But Owen The Destroyer grabbed it from my tray and paraded it round very loudly to everyone so she got in a huff and dumped me.

In music we were in groups and Child A asked Child B if the noise could be kept down for purposes of concentration and Child B banged the drum kit like it owed him money and I was deaf for the rest of the day.

In Literacy we had to describe our chosen animal and I said that the worst part about my animal was the stomach, as viewed from inside, because mine is the Electro-Phoenix, not the regular nice Phoenix sub-species, and it is a man-eater.

At Wednesday Park the place was full but a sudden rainstorm saved us and almost everyone went home, all the wet and weedy ones at least, so we had the place to ourselves. Our copyrighted invention Giant-Tennis-Ball-Tag has really caught on in the neighbourhood and we didn't know half the competitors (but they certainly seem to know us), several were even teenage girls of all things, but the rolling game continued.

We did the skate park again and some Swing-Kick-Ball and brandished a bee-shaped baby's pacifier that we found and then one of our number found a conker and sent it tumbling down the tiled roof of the thatched building, yes, it can be both.

So we collected conker projectiles and bombarded the roof and took the orange umbrella as protection (not the English overcoat) and by the time we'd stripped the biggest conker tree of its bullety bounty we'd been hard at work for 2 hours and I was tired.
Gosh, it's tough being 9. I actually want an early night.

Holy Smoke? Powder Burns

A very normal day at school, apart from where Jof met me afterwards as she had an accounts meeting in which she tried to determine how the previous parent-volunteers of the Friends Of The School could afford their personal yachts.

I showed her all the stuff in my new classroom because she hadn't seen it before. Then she went and cleared out the cupboard under the stairs, which is where the Friends Of The School keep all of their fundraising kit. It is where the air fresheners that I sold at the fair had gathered dust for so many years, and today Jof extracted 3 carloads of unsaleable books, plastic items of unknown provenance and boxes full of glass bottles, never a good idea at a school made entirely of brick and asphalt.

Today I got a rejection letter following my audition for the Pantomime 'Jack and the Beanstalk'. I took the news better than may have been expected. Now, I knew that was coming, not because I have Priori Incantatem/Deja Vu/voices from the future, but because I knew that during the audition itself (no parents allowed) I had simply sat down and read a book the whole way through because I didn't want to do it.

This caused disappointment for the parent who sat downstairs and read a book on an uncomfortable chair for the whole 2 hour duration of the audition which I had specifically asked to attend, and which some might say is the entire point of acting lessons.

Traumaturgy

Well, it was a pretty regular day at school. We had a Rock Assembly which is not where you bring your favourite stone along (Igneous or Metamorphic? Sedimentary, my dear Watson) but a chance to hear a travelling band of Turnpike Troubadours play us some wacky ditties on their electronic organs.

The drum kit was my favourite because they could reprogram it to emit a lot of funny noises like lightning strikes, police sirens and firework whooshes, and it was like the Bonzo Dog Doo-dah Band on special tablets.

Around lunchtime I lost my voice which may have afforded some light relief to my co-workers and I was a little hoarse for the rest of the day, a load of old pony if you ask me.

But I did  show off the terrible injury on my hand, if you look closely you can see where the Scoutmasters reattached it with superglue and some twine we fashioned from flax plants growing in the local hedgerows.

Later, Bud opened a coconut which is to be chopped and added to muesli. That bit is boring but this one was interesting because it came out of its shell unharmed. The tactile surface of the brown smooth bald nut looks hauntingly familiar, and we kept the shell for the fireplace.

At Scouts there weren't quite as many attendees as usual, perhaps they're a bit tired as well. We did witness the standard post-camp Multi-Coloured Swap Table where you hope to get back all the stuff that you inadvertently left behind at camp, we actually had an excess towel so returned it.

We (as a group) have invented possibly the most annoying campfire ballad this side of the Irish Brick Wall. Called "I found a Peanut", it is a chant of infinite length with continuously evolving lyrics. Basically, I found a peanut down the toilet, in your butt-crack, et cetera, and it turned out to be a transvestite radioactive rocket peanut that explodes into poo and it goes on and on with rude duets, raunchy ripostes and angry Scoutmasters telling us to shut up because it's 3 in the morning.

I have also got the format for Scout Swimming badge 3 in which I shall have to tread water with one hand behind my back for 3 minutes, swim 16 lengths without stopping, and swim 50 metres wearing a shirt and trousers.

Alas, Poor Kilroy, I Knew him Backwards

I was fast asleep when one of our Cub Scouts fell ill at 0430 and had to go home after filling up her 10th bucket with vomit.

The first night I'd slept for about 15 minutes which is why I needed 8 1/2 hours this time. Yesterday I crossed a river by bum-shuffling over a log bridge, but someone made the bridge wobble when the Girl With The Big Eyes was going over and she plummeted amusingly and got wet from the waist down and had to borrow James' spare clothes which was nice but she's quite a lot smaller than James so was baggy.

Then at FireCamp it was very dark apart from where the campfire was burning and she was trying to sit on her log but sat in the fire bucket instead (bucket of emergency water a sensible distance from the fire) and so got a wet bottie again. Some mothers do 'ave 'em. We cooked our meal over the fire so I'll get a badge for that and we collected dead leaves etc on our hike and made a 3-D artwork and we'll get a badge for that too.

The Dear Leaders smoked us some bacon (are you sure you're doing it right?) and that was nice, the chilli beef was a bit strong for me but the smoked bacon was far out, man.

In the end Jof came to pick me up and Bud did his run (slowly, after 9 1/2 pints of vitamin Beer at the festival yesterday) and I got into the bath and wallowed in my own mud for ages. I cut my hand off on a sticky-out bit of metal on one of the cooking grills but the dear leaders re-attached it using the personal medi-kit dropped by one of those nice Predator dudes. I also got 10 bramble-slashes on our hike but I'll probably live.

I also carved a pumpkin and did the old alas poor Yorick sketch. It's good to be home. I was very tired.