PigDogs: Hunting for Bunting

Goodness me! That was a frisky one this morning with people scraping ice off their cars and dogs in the park wearing special dog coats and minus 9 degrees in a completely made-up place called Benson, who was a butler 20 years before I began this incarnation.

And even though I am in the Lego Team, I still had to do an hour of PE and French. But we did get a bit more time to prepare our Lego Robot. We have special plans to retain our title against those jealous 16 year-old opponents: some of the tasks involve carrying Trainers (Lego mini-figures, not shoes), milking a cow (enough to bleed it dry of milk, but not so much you make it poo itself), doing the Pig-Dog challenge for 25 points and taking a furry muff to the panda enclosure to keep their little paws warm for a bonus 10 points. We are still trying to get our Robot to sing "Stick it in your bottom, Grantchester Junior School" but we have hope.

Jof has been very busy making Xmas bunting. Ever since the Great Bunting Drought of 1973 she has been cutting up her old Prom dress to make unlicensed festive bunting. The last known underground bunting dealer got captured by bunting sniffer dogs whilst crossing the Danish border with a shipment of high-grade Moroccan bunting. There has been a steep rise in the shady world of illegal bunting trading, and a proliferation of freelance bunty-hunters. Tragically, we are now seeing underage bunting trafficking where bunts are captured in eastern bloc former Soviet states such as Romania. Their serial numbers can be filed off without anaesthetic, they are cut into triangles against the grain, with no consideration for weft or pattern, and smuggled out of the country disguised as uncertain curtain samples and Scout neckerchiefs.

I eschewed the obvious chance to wear it like a bikini, but still posed with it by the back gate, sure there's a good reason.