Living in a box

12 hours in bed, up eleven something. Following our success in the housing market, we pretty well have to pack up the whole house into boxes, so we started on the loft while Jof cast a critical eye over the kitchen.
Gradually stock moved from the loft to the extension and it was all stacked up neatly. You can still get to the washing machine but only just. Of course, we found all sorts of rubbish that we've been keeping faithfully for years, such as all the attachments for our previous hoover, and this ... item of artwork. This picture is on an old mirror backing board: each little object is a screw. Because they stand proud of the surface, instead of being countersunk, they are called mushroom-headed screws. And he has made mushrooms out of them, for he is such a wag. You will also notice that I am still in pyjamas. It is a PJ day: I believe Mr Ben is a fan of those, and I am trying it for the first time.
Meanwhile, the Lego Tower of Doom continues. Because it's 2 up, one across the top all the way round, it's quite simple but we all have damaged fingernails from separating off all the little flat bits to use as strengthening struts. By half past seven we ran out of bricks. For someone with a Lego collection as awesome as mine, actually using up every brick (including the little tiny ones with only 1 nob) is an achievement and a half. But, I ask you, who else has made a Lego tower you can actually get in?

It is 96cm tall, so I do rather stick out of the top. I got in and out without damaging it and now I'm singing to it and decorating it. See about a third of the way up it actually gets wider?

Thinking inside the box

Jof went off to work but we didn't fancy getting up that early. Because of the imminent house move, we have to put our whole life in boxes and stack them up ready for the moving people. The loft is already quite full so that lot is coming down first, lucky that Bud labels and stacks boxes for a living.
Actually there wasn't much for me to do so I ditched him for Lego Heroes. Even the bottlebank walk was severely truncated due to drizzle and coldness.

But then after pepperoni pizza, Ben arrived. He is doing a school project on modes of transport and BensMum is out of the country and Jof is working so us chaps had the day to ourselves to go forth into the world and travel by different means.

So we planned on a reprise of "A ferry long walk" last year in almost identical weather conditions, ie cold and wet. We waited ages for the bus and 2 came along at once, for that is how they operate. We gurned and quacked to pass the time.

We actually had to pay to use the bus, a real downer. But it took us to the Hard (bus station at the end of the world) even though we sat right behind the driver and quacked and kicked the little booth thing he sits in. From there we boarded the Gosport Ferry, a mega-frequent service that plies the busy Bosphorus between Pompey and Beirut (aka Gosport).

We arrived in the rain. It is a measure of the affluence of the hallowed turf of Gosport that as soon as the main drag starts, the high street is full of low-rent charity shops with a range of novel aromas. I believe we found about 8 and graded them out loud ("This charity shop is really crap". "This charity shop is medium") and we didn't find any £10 bags of Lego at all but I got 2 boxes of bath fizzers and gave one to Ben because we were quite cold by that point and looking forward to a hot bath.

Once the charity shops were exhausted, we cut across to the same cafe on top of the boating club and had Chupa-chop lollies. Ben actually cut his tongue on one, you'd have thought they'd make sweeties safer. But they had to close so we high-tailed it to the swingpark in the admittedly lighter freezing drizzle.

There we used the roundabout and both fell off (muddiness) and the zipline (bottie wetness) and ran around the skatepark (slippery danger) and by then my gloves were soaked and my hands were turning blue. 

Bastion #1 (old fort with expense magazines and cannon turrets and unknown pits in the ground - all overgrown) was in our way. Because BensDad said he couldn't go in the old shopping trolley we found in the car park, we went in the fort instead. (You're allowed to, it's ok) It was quite damp and muddy but there were loads of sticks and we broke the twiggy bits off and carried them around with us, attacking trees, cannon pivots, bricks, each other, anything we could get our hands on really. The slopes of the fortified battery were quite slippery and treacherous, we all made it up but we had to have assistance and we all got muddy - but that is what chaps of all ages do - get muddy and brandish sticks.

The ferry was not far away and the bus got us home to the warm even though we quacked and jumped up and down etc. In our Lego room, Bud has sorted out all the flat bits and the block bits because he wanted to make a new tower of doom. So he just said I'm going to get a few bits ready, can't do much because we're moving house. 

Oh really. We are 4 Lego experts with forty naughty fingers and we made our own production line providing components to Bud's specifications. The repeating formula is fairly simple so we all joined in and it's got these massive picture windows all the way round just like Stonehenge and that means there's loads of standing positions for the humanoids and the decorations and the bricks will go further making a bigger tower because of all the gaps. In meedle of no time we had 5 layers. You can just tell it's going to be awesome. We marauded the adults by singing an acapella duet of infinite length in fluent TotalRubbish.

Sadly Ben had to go but it's been really good fun and he got lots of pictures and tickets for his travel challenge thing.

Later, Jof joined in the Lego Build. The formula is simple enough for a girl and it's quite a therapeutic finger-action so with me as super-helper, we finished another couple of layers.

And we bonfired. Most of it was damp wallpaper from Bedroom 1, but we also submitted to Bonfire Rule #1 (Thou shalt Burn with Joy, and in so burning, will conflagrate at least one strange item) which in this case was an old bead curtain of origin unknown which has graced our hallway for the last 17 and 1/2 years. I think we shall have to sweep up afterwards.

Is that enough? No. Bath fizzer night meant pinkness of skin and of bathwater. I hope Mr Ben has had as good a time as I did with the fizzy water of fun.
You know what? It's been an entirely acceptable day. Give me Ben anyday.

Hallelujah for the Hostelry

If your fuel tank corrodes

And the main bus overloads

Well it does not bode

Your shuttle will explode

       © STFU 2013

Anyway, the mare of horsemeat in beef products canters on, giving everyone the trots. And I bet you thought this wouldn't go on furlong. Mane thing is, a bit of Shergar in your burger won't hurt. But 100% neigh in a moo pie from Frogland? Load of old pony. I reckon it's a long-term marketing ploy. Now we all know we've been enjoying Black Beauty Burgers for years, we'll be much more open and receptive to Mule Moussaka, Ass Vindaloo, Chilli con Donkey and Dobbin Biriani. This will open the stable doors to a wider field of choice and a Newmarket.

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The house move is on. The agent (all Estate Agents/Realtors/Immobiliers etc are well known for their truthful ways) says that we could be there in six weeks or so, just in time for April Fool's day. Splendid. The For Sale sign outside our house now says sold.

In school today we had the Great Race. This has been some weeks in the planning and we all had to make a car out of bits of wood and paper. You roll them down a ramp onto the flat playground surface and the one that goes the furthest wins. Bud tried to help by advising I put extra weights in the chassis midsection to make it go further, because that's a design issue, not cheating. As it happens, as I approached the ramp, I stumbled and knocked one of my wheels off: one rapid pitstop later I was ready to roll but I didn't win. The winning distance was Mason with 6m, then Phoebe with 5.3m, then LittleMax with 4.5m. I still got over 3 with my friction-disabled wheel, most of the rest were lucky to get 1. I took the camera but the teacher locked it in her locker, so what's the point.

Tonight we visited the pub, as planned. As usual we waited patiently for Jof to straighten her hair. Then I hopped on the scooter and left her for dust anyway. We were first there for once and I hijacked someone's game of pool until a ten year-old came back and totally hustled an adult.

Eventually (we thought we had the wrong day) Ben and Johnny and Erin arrived and the adults took over a larger table and we played whose bottie is sticking through the curtain and complicated drawing. Erin has had a rather swish haircut but Johnny hasn't.

I did want to do the bonfire when we got back but it was late and there was too much beer.

A sudden movement towards the face

I had a terrible day at school. We had to design our own badges for Dr Barnardo's and mine was of a flower blooming under a rainbow. I got through the first round of voting, down to only 5, but in the second round, I got no votes at all! Daisy won because she put multicoloured ribbons around her badge making it bigger and it looked like a rosette from a pony jumping competition.

Afterwards I got changed and headed out to Thursday Park. Extra-bonus Erin was there as well so there were many games and chases and foods of all colours and we all fell over at some point and Erin got a football in the face and we played Clone Rangers and climbed everything. Some of us (not me) made Erin cry by singing 'Erin's got a boyfriend'. Give it a few years and we'll be begging.....
Some older kids from the Junior school borrowed Ben's football and he stood at the top of the pyramid of ropes and shouted that they were all our souls. This does not sound right. Surely they can't all be our souls? Anyway, I have also developed a word that I use in exactly the right place, eg when I drop something. I say "Flut". It scans, makes sense and everything.

We got well over an hour and it was dusky when we called it. The minute we got home, it started to rain.
In other news, today we sold our house. Little people like me are notoriously bad at deferred rewards: I know I'll get a much bigger room to make giant Lego buildings in, but I want to make one NOW! It means we beat Grandma and Grandad to a sale. I am going to pack up my completed Lego models eg the Blue Dragon, airport etc into individual tied binbags so I don't lose all the bits.
Anyway, raise a glass of cranberry juice to Blind Uncle Len whose death made all this possible. **Stop Press** At the last minute, the current owner of the house we want to buy has said he wants more money. Well you should have said that when you accepted our offer 2 months ago.

Prole models or Troll models

My current favourite TV program (apart from the acceptable cross-party perennials Simpsons and Futurama) is Phineas and Ferb. In fact, both of them are content to sit down and watch it with me, although they seem to laugh at jokes I don't get and can read box labels such as "Acme Dynamite" etc so may get more from it.

In this programme, Candace the older sister and her friends are so neurotic, stressed and obsessed by what other people think of them that they can never have fun, and yet are shallow and shopping/fashion obsessed. The male leads and their co-conspirators are calm, balanced, intelligent, considered, inventive and able to find happiness and enjoyment in the smallest of things. This is so totally unlike the real world I experience, I worry that cartoons are a malign influence and the children of today are being brought up with unreasonable and inaccurate role models.
At school today I bought a Children In Need red nose which has a highly suspicious cleft at the back to stick your nose in. Erin didn't buy one because she forgot her £1. I, of course am cleverer than that, because I know I am stupid. Thus, because I know I'll never remember either, I always have an emergency stash of £3 or so in my book bag.

We rushed home from school to change for our own little Wednesday Park because it wasn't actually raining. Workmen have dug up the tennis courts and the basketball court and the other tennis courts so either the council can't afford to maintain them and are ripping them up to return the land to nature, or the council can afford to put down new swanky marble courts with massage tables and wind chimes and aromatic baths: your guess is as good as mine.

There were only teenagers there so we ran home out of the keen wind and I was dismal at the spelling test again. When you're trying to write 'Coach', and you're invited to correct the 'Couch' that you've put, so you upgrade it to 'Coghch', then you know you're in trouble.

We have started to sort out the Lego box in preparation for the next Giant Lego Building. It will be even bigger, taller, and with more lights and humans and propellers and windows. Just you wait and see, Honorius Higgins.

These Days (seems like everyone's an expert)

Today we got our first offer on the house, which is quite exciting. It was way too low, of course, and we wouldn't be able to buy carpets in the new place so we said try again old chap, you'll have to do better than that. Grandad has also been getting offers on his house, also too low and he's been saying the same thing.
I guess it's like negotiating in Monopoly, it's all property, just hope I don't get the street repairs.
At breakfast, Jof said I must eat my food and not watch TV. It's so easy to get those guys mixed up. So TV was banned for the rest of the day, lucky, because I had the essay to write about Mango the Elephant and all the new spelling words (3/12) and the Dr Barnardo's badge to design and gymnastics to go to.
Last week I earned my new Gym level-up badge and we paid for it up front, so I was supposed to do a Jafar-from-Stargate picture with it glued to my forehead. But the post didn't arrive at the Gym so all I got was apologies.
Looking forward to seeing Ben on Saturday (or I would be if they'd told me).

Yes, Matron

In one of my previous incarnations as a boarder at a public school in the 1980's, the Matron (Nurse/housekeeper) used to prowl the corridors in the morning knocking on the study doors to rouse the inmates. Taking into account that the students were mid to late teens, she never barged unannounced into any of the rooms (the  Eric Shun rule), but relied on getting a coherent response from within, at which point she would assume the boy was up and move on to the next acned juvenile. Thus, in the true ways of teens everywhere, they would try to get those vital extra 3 minutes in bed by shouting "Yes, Matron, I'm up" while still asleep, a talent nurtured over years, and well worth the x,000 pounds per year of school fees.

This morning at 5 past 6 when Bud checked on me before leaving the house, I sat up and said "The bed is falling" while still asleep. He remade the destroyed bed for me. This is because I have spent the last 2 nights sleeping at the other end for novelty, where I can't reach the milk or night water, and where the cunningly concealed night light can shine directly into my face.

All day today, the subject of discussion across the pond is the Souperbowl, a televised event in which teams of stalwart youths at the peak of physical fitness attempt to drink themselves to death on some vast bowl of clam chowder, and Cheerleaders come on at half-time for a display of clam jousting or similar, it's all beyond me. And yet what they're actually talking about is, which was their favourite advert. In England we actively avoid watching the adverts.

At school today I swapped some Lego Ninjago Spinners and came out on top by miles. Either I have some serious negotiating talent or the rest of them are Numpties.

The viewers that toured our house at the weekend liked it. They spent some time admiring the Giant Lego Building, who wouldn't. Perhaps they'll buy it. The house I mean, not my Lego, hands off!

On Sunday we saw a big crash at the crossroads and many sirens and flashing lights. One of the stricken cars has been shunted round the corner and was on my way home from school - couldn't avoid a posed photo.

Outside Beavers I had a big surprise. The lady having trouble parking was BensMum and Ben was joining our Beaver troupe! Well, he's just trying it out for a couple of weeks with the rank of Water Vole or Capybara or whatever is trainee Beaver level nowadays. They kept this vital campaign intel from me. We quacked mightily at each other in the street. Inside, I was his helper-mentor-guide but he did get to play with everyone else. We played Duck + Goose but not the beer game Fuzzy Duck. With luck, I should see him again soon.
I'm losing the game of Monopoly. This makes me extremely grumpy, and after I'd laughed my way through my shower, I suddenly remembered I was in a bad mood and stomped off.

Crate Expectations

They told me not to get up early, so after I awoke at 10am I stayed in bed for another hour anyway. I jumped at the chance to go shopping because he said we could go to Giant Tesco. This is because the selection of Lego at Sainsbury's is meagre and I actually have all of it already, so the Lego Porn is no good there. Giant Tesco has a better range and I had £11 to burn.

First up, we popped into his work which is right next door. They have a vast packing crate which is no longer needed and will shortly be broken up and put in the skip. Of course, we both want it for PuddleParty purposes or even just to burn but we simply don't have the facilities to get it home or store it. You know when you save a file to the cloud? Well, those big black towers in the background are clouds, apparently, and they go in the crate which is why it's 8 feet tall. I'm still not allowed to use the powered pallet truck.

In Tesco I chose a fire-jumping Lego Chima, which is their latest wheeze for extracting money from the youth of the world. 

The giant Lego building is not finished, for it's one of those painting-the-Forth-bridge things that can never be completed. But we declared it done anyway, so we could use the table for Monopoly. It took us an hour to demolish it, separating off the Humanoids, lights and blocks from all the other funny-shaped bits, because I've got so much, it's not going to fit in my box any more. Perhaps we should have retrieved the massive packing crate after all.

Semi-aquatic Mammals: the day of stupendosity

What a lovely day. I basked in the bright sunlight with my large warm coat, gloves and extra hat. 

On the bottlebank walk today we met Harry (school) and Hannah Puddler. Everywhere was aqueous, the puddles may never leave the parks.

Eventually it was time to vacate the house so the estate agent could take the visitors round. We drove a circuitous route to Southsea and parked so close to the concrete support in Waitrose car park that we knew Jof'd have to climb in the boot if she wanted to drive away.

First stop was Victoriana, furniture store to the stars. Jof wanted everything because it's all great stuff, Bud wanted a cupboard because that's what we were there for, and I wanted the Sarcophagus, because I could fit in it. As is always the way, Jof and I toured all 3 stores and failed to make a decision. He walked a 6 mile circuit to North End and back to visit a stunning 18 charity shops, and all he came back with was 1 Lego Hero and 1 Lego R2D2.

But this was not the highlight. Last year you may remember that one of the cub scouts won the Chief Scout's Special Award for alerting his mother to a fire in his house. Mr Bear Grylls did not actually present the award himself as he was drinking a suspicious yellow liquid in a foreign land for King and Country. But the scout group were given a one-off stipend of £300 for the good of the troupe: this pecuniary advantage has enabled them to hire the entire Mountbatten Centre swimming pool for the evening (this chosen by the award winner himself), and I've been looking forward to it for ages. Triple Swim!

Well, where do I start. We got there on time even though Jof had to dry her hair. I was 5th onto poolside and the lifeguards started throwing many floats and pool toys of all varieties into the large shallow end for us all to play with. The idea was, all parents were invited as well, plus any siblings, to take full advantage of the opportunity, and to have as many adults as poss supervising. But the deep end held an attraction we'd never seen before. You know the caterpillar bouncy castle thing that operates by Canoe Lake in the summer? Well this one was blue and red and ON the pool. Basically, I took one look at the kiddie end with its many floats and said poo to you, poodles, I'm doing the Winter Wipeout castle thing. It was ****ing awesome (I just don't have the vocabulary to underline just how excellent it was) and I simply went round and round for an hour and a half. 52 times I did it, and 9 times I failed to complete the assault course by reason of slipping and falling in or being pushed in. One of the lifeguards threw water at us with a giant ladle. Bud followed and fell in twice out of 15 or so, Jof tried and tried and tried and kept dying on the first section but eventually a Family Effort saw her complete it once and another time, fail at the last fence due to overcrowding. This of course means that I spent at least half an hour ploughing up and down in the pool getting back to the start, so not only did I have the most wonderful time, I did some serious exercise as well. Some of the kids were quite plump and one extremely heavy chap kept falling in which gave us all a laugh. Jof broke her toe on the little groove that runs around the edge to take the water away.

Then time ran out. It was a terrible shame but there you go. Forget ye not that 6pm had passed without a beer being opened, so we raced home to the strains of "Let's Boog tonight" by Imagination until a police car pulled in behind us and we sailed on home at sensible speeds through the deserted streets. Jof said let's get a McDougalls, we only eat rubbish once a year. So we did that. While we were in there, a little face at the drive-thru window went yoohoo and it was LittleMax, who had just spent 3 hours in the hospital waiting to be given Calpol for an ear infection. We hoovered up the McDingles at home and watched Fort Boyard, for you can never have too much of a good thing. When I grow up I'm going to win at Winter Wipeout. Bud will help but Jof won't because she's crap.
Then - Bath Fizzer Night, starting at 20 past 10. My bonus Youtube videos were of the chap surfing the 100 ft wave off Portugal. How much watery fun can YOU have in one day?

Next time will do, He-Man

He-Man and Masters of the Universe follows a well-trodden cartoon format of 

● Main Hero and assorted worthy hangers-on, all with their own reasons for withdrawing from society. At least one will be the quite presentable daughter of another team member

● Main Villain and sprinkling of allied Evil Henchbeings of various species, including incompetent chimeric entities with pointy masks of many colours. Grimaces are permanent and can never be revoked

● Heroes just want a quiet life in their vast isolated fortified castle with no visible mains water supply but Villains keep coming up with evil schemes to steal the Forgotten Jewel of Thrunge/Secret Portal of P'Tang and thereby control the kingdom/planet/tri-state area

● Large battle with lots of athletic posturing (but no kicking in the exposed goolies) in which all seems lost for the Goodies until Main Hero says his magic words and eats spinach/whips out his heirloom stabbing weapon and his theme tune goes all echoey and lightning strikes his upstretched shaft and it shines an ethereal yet benevolent light over the landscape with purple and green twingly whizzy bits, rather like the wrong kind of mushrooms

● Chief Villain, who was about to win, suddenly decides to cower in awe at the sheer size of his opponent's electrified prong and retreats, saying ye hast won this time, [Enter name of Hero here], but I shall return and wreak my terrible vengeance upon thee!  He then cackles manically like someone who's put too much Bolivian Marching Powder in his coffee, and escapes the scene using a previously concealed pair of wings with his special Evil Emblem emblazoned or embroidered thereupon. Emblems should be a) preposterous b) brightly coloured/easily recognizable for younger viewers and c) entirely novel, for trademark infringement purposes
● The victorious Heroes make moralistic speeches about their righteousness and denigrate Communism or Capitalism, depending on the age of the cartoon. There follows an implied Pun about the Villain's costume that would not be out of place in an adult Xmas cracker
● During the Pun, diverse injured Evil Henchbeings will re-animate and run away to rejoin their evil collective, carefully forgetting that they were callously abandoned by their master when they fell in battle. The Heroes will allow this tactically dubious move as without arch-adversaries for the next royal rumble, their lives would be meaningless
● Various Heroic associates will be tended back to full fighting health by the Daughter with the Tight Top in her role as nurse, when she isn't being helicopter pilot, radio operator, detective, undercover Princess or research scientist.
It was while trying to enunciate the parting curses of the defeated Villain that I just couldn't come up with anything better than "Next time will do, He-Man!"

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Happy Friday to all! The estate agent has found us another house-viewer so it's hoover frenzy once more. It'll be even more fun this time given that we haven't finished repainting Bedroom 1 and the furniture is scattered throughout the house.
In school, Erin showed off her photo scrapbook with pictures of her Dad in Cub Scout uniform, and many with me. I have of course known her for about 5 years now, a point I shall profit from when she is elected Prime Minister. In spelling I was concentrating on getting the hard words right but failed to spell 'Cottage' correctly - can anybody tell me what Cootage is? It sounds highly suspect.

As soon as we got home I snacked generously while he painted. Swimming was ace as usual, only 3 in our group today although Thomas, Fraser and I shared another hilarious and inappropriate changing session afterwards with much flashing and showing off of botties (video not available).

Once we got home it was rush rush rush with hoovering and painting, I helped remove the radiator so the wall behind it could be painted, I'm sure there's a good reason for that and the silly message we left there. I got paint on my shirt even though he said don't go near the cupboard. Life is fun.