Aftermath, the day of nothing

At 0200 today my legs started to hurt so I howled at Jof and she rubbed them better. She was unimpressed as she wanted some sleep after her busy day, maybe I can self-medicate next time?

It was a very lazy day. I got to have lots of TV time and Lego time and a private showing of Happy Feet 2 while they were washing up and hoovering and getting all the flags down and so forth. Meals were leftovers at arbitrary times: I drank melon pressé, a veritable lemonparty in my mouth. Then we discovered the banners that Erin, Beth and I had spent so much time making but failed to put up yesterday. And the bubble mixture that nobody wanted. So I made myself a flag anyway, can you see what it is? Yes. It is a monster with 6 eyes. I stayed in my pyjamas all day, how decadent!

Gawd bless 'er Maj

Everyone knows that it rains on the Bank holiday. Thus, to fool it, we are holding our Puddle Jubilee party exactly one week late. Well, that, and it gives Ben the chance to fly back to this country. 

We worked frantically from dawn to get the place ready. We swept and hoovered and inflated balloons with both air and helium and put up flags and then it rained a bit. A couple of PuddleMummies did drive-by dumpings of special Cornish ice cream and a special chair for her Maj in case she drops in and it was all fun. Jof has made an epic trifle (a piece of resistance) and there was no end of flags, which seems to be a speciality of the house.

Once the Puddlers were duly installed in the back garden, BensMum sternly laid down the law about yellow cards and warnings and how we might have to call her Miss Whiplash if we were bad. Immediately the party polarised down traditional party lines, the chaps stood at the bonfire end and monitored the charring of bits of dead animal. The chapesses sat in the sun and drank suspicious cocktails of many colours with leaves in them. We all went inside and got stuck in to the art box.

We kept up the good work for hours and hours with random interludes such as:

The Bran Tub

This was a brightly coloured box of cut-up tissue paper with many small prize-delights hidden within. We all got several goes and came away with bags of sweeties, little pen things in the shape of balls, and the favourite - mini-grabbers which Erin discovered were quite good for nose-picking. Then the (almost) empty tub was hidden on top of the microwave. Not well enough. Ben inter alia retrieved it, the remaining delights raided and strips of tissue paper were scattered throughout the house. BensMum got very strict and handed out cards and admonishments, for she is a professional dinner lady and knows how it's done.

The Pinata

Fast becoming a Puddle Tradition, no major Puddleparty can be without one, and this party was booked a year ago when we discovered that Her Maj was going Diamond. We have had a variety of mis-shapen pinatas, and this one was dogged by misfortune. The balloon deflated twice, leaving the poor thing saggy. Jof painted it to resemble the Queen but the hangy thing failed immediately, it wouldn't even go on the broomstick. So we had to put it in a plastic bag and we all banged it twice with one of those sturdy sycamore staves we liberated from Hilsea nature reserve. Once we'd committed group regicide we fell upon the battered cranium and devoured its contents. (Braaaaiiins....)

Cracklebombs

Invented during a bonfire party with Ben, simply get one common or garden industrial clingfilm tube and stuff one end with dried evergreen branches. It's easy to hold and throw into the fire and the oily leaves go up a treat with a noisy hiss-crackle and warming yellow flare. 23 had been prepared for us and indeed, we all got a go and some of us did a few. But apart from the cracklers and a few random tubes and things we mostly left it to the adults. The bonfire was a bit of a part-time attraction for us but nice to visit.

Heroic Poses

At some point the chaps were just checking the football scores when BensDad was roped into sorry volunteered to help us make suits of armour out of paper. Mostly we wanted to be Lego Heroes but I believe Bobert got to be a Goa'uld System Lord, Erin was 2 people, Ben had a jetpack and I had a 3-bladed trident/sword cross with "Kill" written on each part of it. Here we see Queen Erin knighting Hero Ben with a Winchester rifle, as you do.  

We all got top quality ice creams and were allowed to put on our own toppings including sparkly candles: all the helium balloons got tangled together, Elizabeth got her face painted, we were put in front of Happy Feet 2 but nobody watched it, and in the end we burnt the Freaky Boy Scout at the stake. Can we do it all again please?

May the wind at your back never be your own

After about 12 hours' sleep I bounced back to life with egg and blood pudding on toast. Today has weather warnings for wind so we headed off to the seafront to see if they were right. They were. The place was almost deserted apart from some grandparents accompanying little girls in pink coats so we had a quick play in Canoe Lake Splash Pad and found that the beach had been scoured clean of stones and people. We were the only ones there.

The adverse weather conditions were quite funny but we didn't have an ice cream.

In other news, Dutchman Bart Jansen stuffed and modified his deceased cat into a stable 4-prop remote-controlled helicopter. Reactions at the Amsterdam art fair where he exhibited "Orvillecopter" were mixed. I think it's funny.

Once he'd got back from his run (soaked by waves coming over sea wall by sea life centre) we hot-footed it to Irving Breweries near big Sainsburys' in Cosham, trying to get there and to swimming lessons in only 28 minutes.

It was a smelly place where you stick to the floor and it had one man who didn't understand our need for speed so he sold us some beer in a leisurely fashion. There were massive tanks and bicycles on a mezzanine level that didn't look safe and some old glasses and festival awards and lots of barrels and pictures of men brewing beer.

Got to swimming 5 minutes late, didn't matter. Helped Jof decorate cakes for the party tomorrow, she's made a red/white/blue trifle that's bigger than me, hope they're all hungry.

Monsoon! Or, Hosepipe ban my bottie

Awoke under canvas to an amber alert weather warning for torrential rain and damaging winds. Next year can I go camping in the desert where they're not allowed weather?

While I was gone, initial preparations were made for the PuddleParty Comedy Burnalong. Items secured for burning so far:

23 Cracklebombs - more than enough for everyone

102 Assorted cardboard tubes

360 Corks

3 Cable drums

1 Freaky Boy Scout

In the morning we did the Olympics which was throwing the egg, Nerf Gun attack, throwing straw and Jumping. Alfie got a gold medal but I didn't: I did get an access all areas official ID which I suspect will break all sorts of copyrights should the real Olympic committee find out.

Food was great - they provided it there and the Scouts cooked it for us. The sleeping tents were mixed-sex and us Beavers had a 3-pod 12-man tent all to ourselves. Bluebird had to tell Pod 2 to be quiet twice after lights out.

We did the hike today and learnt all about trees and the ivy that infests them. We crossed a bridge over the motorway. We got tuck but had to pay for it using tokens we won for completing activities and tasks: all tokens were computer hard drive components from Buds' work which was handy. Next year I might take a secret stash and devalue the currency by introducing counterfeit tokens into the Scouting economy.

Going to the toilet wasn't great, it did have its own tent, though.

We did have a camp fire and a few songs but it's difficult to do either, really, when you're underwater.
Overall it was a great success and I want to go again next year. OK, so he forgot my raincoat and trainers, and on the way back we forgot the sleeping bag and all the canteen equipment, but who's complaining? (Jof) But at least we managed to pick up Crystal and deliver her home.
Cubs, Scouts and Beavers aren't allowed baths upon returning home from camp. This is because they have a tendency to fall asleep in the bath and drown due to excessive tiredness. I had a shower and hit the sack. No canvas was involved. I quarkled for far too long but succumbed in the end. My intentions are to return next year, preferably as a Cub so I get an extra night.

Camp! Or, Going canvas

At last the day of official abandonment is here! Alfie and his Mum arrived at ours for the lift we'd promised them and we bundled into the car with our giant backpacks.

The campsite was easy to find and we queued up waiting for the gates to open. Loads of my Beaver friends arrived at the same time and we all played in the huge beech hedge of one of the huge expensive houses opposite the entrance to the forest clearing where I shall spend the next 30 hours.

The Scout group had applied for and received a grant from the Hampshire Community Fund so had bought a fridge, marquee and more. Just as we all got into the marquee it started to rain which I suspect will be a prime feature of this woodland adventure.

Alfie cried a bit as the parents got ready to go but I didn't, for I will be too busy to spend time on frivolous emotions. Then without further ado they left us to it.

Amongst the activities on offer are the Olympics, when we got there the cubs were throwing javelins. Baloo (big leader man) was wearing an outfit made entirely of Union Jacks.

We were all in bed by 9pm which is when the raincoat and trainers we'd left behind were mysteriously delivered to the campsite.

Church! Or, My investigating feet

It was my idea to reprise the school trip of a couple of weeks ago: it was received well by my elders so off we went, after a frantic search for the Beaver shirt I shall have to wear tomorrow.

Portsmouth cathedral is on the High Street in Old Portsmouth and very flash it is too. I particularly liked the golden ship which was the weathervane: Jof liked the 11th century bit where all the gravestones are in the floor and have dates like 1657, he liked the cannonball which was sent over from Gosport by Cromwell and we all liked the roof which kept the rain off as it has been fixed since the cannonball.

We've missed the tour of the tower by 2 days but it'll be open again for Heritage weekend in September. Watch this space.

Then we swam across the road to the Old Garrison Church which is really only half a church because the main roof was burnt down by a German incendiary bomb. We thank the resident verger and passing group of soldiers that saved the choir stalls and altar area. Inside the end bit with the altar I pointed out the secret tunnel entrance which is to a set of very old and knackered spiral steps, I wasn't allowed very far up the tower but if the old dear with the big key was out of the way I just know we'd be fine. I played the organ a bit but it wasn't switched on.

We found an unexpected but very tasty lunch at the Still and West and we got a window seat and watched loads of ferries going to and from the Isle of Wight and France. We retrieved the car only 25 minutes after the parking had run out and got home and put the lights and heating on, for it is June.

That's when Elizabeth came round to see if I could play. I could. We drew at twister but then Bud beat me in only his first game. Then she took me home.
For an hour and a half we played cafes and restaurants. We took it in turns to play all the catering roles, I was manager, head chef etc, Beth had a cock up on the catering front and her Dad left the restaurant without paying. When it was hometime I hid under the sofa and it took 3 adults to find me, for I am a highly trained operative of invisible space.
In the evening we cut up crepe paper for the bran tub and got me ready for Beaver camp, won't I need a canoe to reach the campsite? I beat Jof at Monopoly by £8196. Sic transit Venus, right?

Claret! Or, The hole in the fence II

This morning I cut my finger on a Swiss army penknife that was in a cupboard in the office, practically asking for it, I tell you. I needed 2 plasters. What a lazy day we had. Well, I had. I now have 5 x £500 notes in Monopoly, shouldn't be too long now.

While he ran we did shopping (yawn) but then we decided to do some investigation at or around Fort Cumberland. This sprawling fortress and associated MOD buildings is derelict and overgrown, and occupies an enviable corner position between the sewage treatment plant and the nudist beach.

It also has 2 free car parks and lots of stuff to play on, especially at low tide. We arrived at lowest water so got on the giant sewage outflow pipes just when a fisherman on the pier above hooked a big fish and it was lifted to its doom right past us.

Then we threw a lot of rocks into the rockpools to make big splashes, because you have to. The waterfall needed damming again so we used the same large bits of rusty scrap metal we had retrieved before and put in a good half an hour filling it with rocks. Nobody was naked.

On the way back we noticed a hole in the fence to the fort: it was clear of razor wire too so had a nose around inside the fenced-off area. The sewage plant also had a hole in their fence but there's not much to see there, didn't spend long inside.

By the time our 2 hours was up the sun was out and it was lovely. Won't be tomorrow.
Dictionary corner: the Word of the Day is  "Pub-ify" - the act of buying the 5th house on a Monopoly property which changes it into a hotel.
Tonight I am sleeping in a sleeping bag on my own bedroom floor, to practice for the Beaver camp.

Meccano! Or, Raining on the Queens' parade

I have had a Meccano police car in the tall cupboard in my bedroom for ages but never went near it. But yesterday at Grandads a Meccano racing car was waiting for me so this morning I tackled them both. The police car was OK. The racing car was extremely fiddly and you have to use nuts and bolts and spanners and Allen keys and magically hold it all together while you screw it up.

Thus I found the easiest way was to sit there while Bud did it for me. It's a step change up from lego. I also got a miniature golf buggy with 6 minute golf sticks. I used some ball-bearings and they worked.
The golf buggy was given to me by Gordon. He is a golfing friend of Grandads and was a head teacher in his previous life. He bought me the vehicle and wrote me the following letter here transcribed exactly - when I was 4 months old.

23rd April 2006
Now then lad,
                  You have no idea who I am but I know your Grampa. Yes, I know. Dreadful isn't it. But press on.

He tells me you are ignorant of Shakespeare, (shahhkespoke, Shakenspore) or however he wanted his name to be. This, I said ,was due to the failing education system of the country which would even accept the punctuation of this sentence. (A subtle attempt at humour, showing that --- ---if I have to explain it what has the world come to.) However, in an attempt to rectify the matter I thought long and hard and came up with the idea that you were probably the athletic type  rather than  the intellectual at this early stage of your life, more tactile than cerebral and in order to prevent you being side-tracked into some inferior branch of sport like tennis, or, God forbid, soccer which is too near you for comfort, you needed to be lead into the paths of righteousness as soon as possible. I was then given this vision of a toy with golfers on the heights, or this toy with a vision of golfers on the heights I'm not sure which, which is the path you should follow.  The vision took pace in Aldis. Not the road to Damascus I do so agree, but very near the Yeovil holey of holes, and a vision of some sort or other. And not the sort of vision I'm used to. Nor do I want again, coming to that. This you now see before you. Do not copy your Grampa. He plays in left-handed trousers willed to him by his father, your great Grampa. This ,since he is right-handed, causes problems in his game, the body going one way and the trousers another. Beware of your father. He is probably dieing (sic) (aha) to get his hands on the toy. If he wants to play with it make sure he treats it kindly. No M1 catastrophic accidents. It is yours. Look closely. Observe the skill and dexterity of the figures. Mark, learn and inwardly digest all the necessary processes, and hit the ball for bloody miles.

Gordon

I fear there is no hope for me.

In the afternoon we met Erin and Elizabeth at the Rose in June Pub. It's a fair old walk but we get to balance on the wall by Kingston Prison. The pub was closed for a ticket-only private function.

This was annoying as it was 2 fair old walks from there to get to the Royal Artillery, which was at least open, if extremely busy with street party and everything. Amongst the many attendees I knew: Ginger Lenny, Gemmas' Charlie, Rosie Chloe, and many more.

The barbecue in which we have played hide'n'seek so often was actually functioning: the street was closed off with police cones and 2 games of football were going on. We stayed in the garden and played in the junior marquee which threatened to blow away in the severe winds.

After a hot dog and chips (which ElizabethsMum had to wait half an hour for) we decamped to Erins' house where we played Displays Of No Apparent Purpose and drew flags. The strong winds blew heavy rain clouds all over us. Bedtime was late for everyone.

Waking up to the sound of birdsong

Now birdsong is supposed to be a pleasant noise to wake up to. It's certainly better than the usual ambulance sirens, bin lorries and traffic noises of downtown Pompey, but these birds really went for it, like an overdone jungle soundtrack.
After breakfast we took Grandad and all the rubbish from yesterday down to the tip. The Municipal Refuse and Recyling Technicians said they didn't have the facilities to recycle Grandad so we had to take him away again. But I managed to post all the paperwork through the letterbox format skip and away we went, half a ton lighter.
While he went shopping we investigated the little swingpark (tallest slide in the world) and the river. we also found a storm drain overflow (flood defences) which was echoey.

After lunch we made it home in a record 1 hour 44 mins and went straight down to the Milton Fayre in the grounds of the mad hospital. We were quite late but I saw lots of schoolfriends and some Beaver Buddies. I bounced on both castles and climbed up the fire engine and got locked in the meat wagon by a policeman who must have been 7 foot 13. Luckily I had 30 pieces of silver on me so was released. The bonny bouncing busty babes I was banged up with were not so lucky.

While Jof was in the 3 hour ice cream queue, Bud absconded for a run and the Popses showed up, ostensibly so they would be tired enough to sleep on the 7-hour nightmare car journey that faces them tonight on their visit to the Grandparents in Trouble at T'mill land. Then we resumed Monopoly.
I wave regally to all and offer my best wishes that all shall enjoy the Jubilee period. Terrible shame we didn't spread chicken-poo fertiliser around due to the monsoon we endured circa 11pm.

Never gonna give you up.....

First day of the holidays so was up nice and early. Once Jof had gone to work we left the house for Dorset. I carseat-boogied along to a load of C-list tunes from a cheapo 80's compilation CD: from Rick Astley (AKA Hack Wristley) to Footloose, my favourite. After the obligatory roadworks and trundling tractor and doddering granny we got to Dorchester where I demanded a go in the exercise park. We found a nearby road to park in for free and tried out all the exercise machines. They're obviously gearing up for a Jubilee party in the park as it was full of big marquees. The water splashpark was active and several little people got very wet but I was none of them.
 Using only one magnet on a stick I retrieved some coins from the fountain and then it was time to press on. We made Grandma and Grandads' house dead on time and I ate 2 and a half pork pies for lunch. We composted a dozen dead potted plants.
In the afternoon we all went for a walk, 2 and a bit miles around the country lanes up and down some vertiginous inclines, Bud pushed Grandma all the way. It's the first time she'd been out of the house in a month so she was overjoyed to see the countryside again, but was a bit scared of the hill going down - that's when we found the wheelchair had an emergency seatbelt!
Then I played golf in the back garden while Bud forced them to get rid of another half-ton of obsolete paperwork and associated accoutrements eg a 1970s hostess trolley, a comprehensive collection of calendars of the 1980's (at least 6 from each year) and a large bag of assorted suitcase handles.
For supper I had 4 chips, half a fish finger and a surprise sulk. This led to an early bath and bed, maybe I'll be a good boy tomorrow.