My Pet Set Theory

News reaches me from my followers in Oz that a feral pig got into a campsite, stole and consumed 3 6-packs of beer and went on a nocturnal rampage. These creatures are quite large and ugly anyway, probably started using rude words as well after all that beer. It then picked a fight with a cow and passed out under a tree. Sounds just like a PuddleDaddy outing: I shall never drink beer.
I had another great day at school apart from when someone collided with me in the playground and I got a scraped knee. And apart from when Ben and I bumped heads and both of our mummies got text messages to that effect.
As it happens I stayed in the dispensary with the First Aid Teacher and helped dispense plasters, cotton wool and confidential healthcare advice to subsequent patients.
Also unhelpful was pickup time where it all started well but I swiftly regressed to Sulk Mode. Problem is, I had done a maths test. I allege that I am competent and got 8 right in the 2 minute timed multiplication test, even though the teachers use the significantly smaller BeefGravian second, so the 2 minutes is up in only 40 of your Earth seconds. Furthermore, I contend that I came top and everyone else got between 0 and 3 right. I declared that one of the more difficult sums was 9 x 9, and I had discovered by compound addition that the answer was 81. In addition to this addition, I had discovered that the easy way to do this sum is to add the 2 factors, and simply transpose the digits:
9 x 9 ≡ 9 + 9 = 18. 18 ↔ 81. Therefore 9 x 9 = 81.
Also, the friction coefficient of a spinning torus suspended in Helium at zero Kelvin times the number of free radicals in the Oort cloud expressed as a Hexadecimal number proves that the net angular momentum of the observable universe ≠ 0, QED, dur.
For some reason this did not impress and he mentioned Times Tables. I know these are fearsome tools of torture designed to make everything more difficult so I got very very angry. In fact I remained on the edge of madness throughout Gymnastics and supper and cheered up only when I discovered my new duvet cover. Coincidentally, 4 fire engines and a helicopter attended a block of flats by Cosham railway station this afternoon. I wonder why.

The Unlikely Lads

Slightly unusual start to the day when Jof banned me from the back yard as it was getting covered in concrete. Then she promptly took a week off work to paint the secondary shower room and entertain Nanna, who will visit and may get stuck in the concrete if it isn't dry by then.
School was wonderful with my first library lesson, PE lesson (sat on sidelines - no kit), literacy and numeracy lessons. I am in the top maths group with 97% on the test.
On the way out we discovered it was Erin's 8th birthday. I was not able to retrospectively buy her a present so Ben and I escorted her back to hers to trash her room, in the traditional way.
Her tinkly giggles rang through the house as she amassed big piles of cash from her cards and a personalised mug while Ben and I provided background hooting.
If we are the genetic future of the species, god help us all.
Beth joined us and the heavens opened again, amazing how often that happens at Erin's house. But then there was an argument and time was called, even though we were having a great time.
At home we found that the rainstorm had flooded the whole back yard. The drain had filled with sediment and blocked - he had to climb his own back wall to rod the drain from above, which saved the house from flooding.
At Beavers I have only 1 badge left to get. When I get the full set I get a special badge. Then the camera played up so the really good picture was lost forever. At 945 I was in bed but that was when the delivery guys finally came to install the dishwasher Jof had been waiting all day for.

Skyfall - on my head

Woke Jof up at 745 because I'd finished my book. I have created a rule that I can only read one book a day, so her entreaties to go away and read another book quietly in another country fell upon deaf ears attached to a noisy maniac.
It was relatively cold and rainy so this was never going to be nudist beach day. But in a coruscating flash of originality, I chose to scoot to Yellow Plum Park, which is exactly what I did yesterday.
The park was empty and damp so we hunted the lesser spotted yellow plums and I showed him the dens we made yesterday. One of our traps for Elizabeth involved a wide variety of red rosehips and hedge berries in a circle, with a damson in the middle. The idea was, she would tread on the damson releasing clouds of red juice, which would scare her rigid and enable us to sneak up on her and do something hideous and inappropriate, no doubt. It is well known in our circles that an artistic arrangement of coloured fruit will confound and befuddle small girls.
However Beth is more likely to develop rampant bloodlust fever and attack us...
In typical mission creep, I then decided we had to cross Ben's Bumpy Paths on a thoroughly unsuitable scooter and do some excavating by the shoreline for treasure and long-lost antique artworks. Ben and I fervently believe that the Army had secret tunnels under the reclaimed land where they stored all the gold and diamonds and Old Master oil paintings in case of invasion by the nasty Nazis, and it is there still, waiting for a couple of unlikely lads such as us to uncover them and become rich.
Thus, we sit upon the Digging Rock (a particularly long lump of concrete level with the first lake) and scrape away at the sea defences, doing our bit for coastal erosion and prizing every bit of broken pottery we find, for it is treasure.
My helper found me some broken tile and some random metal spike and I dug away happily, while he left a secret message for Ben on the Message Rock (about 10 yards north of the Digging Rock). It rained a bit but we didn't mind, Hayling Island was getting the thunderstorm.
Eventually we left and I insisted we go back to the park and improve the Elizabeth trap, in case she ventured out that day. We collected several different berries, seed pods and so forth, including deadly nightshade. Either all the small girls from Moorings Way infant school will be mysteriously addled and stupefied, or a lot of pigeons will get fat.
On the way back the heavens opened just after Erin's house and we became bedraggled in no time. Of course it had stopped by the time we got home (he had to push me again) but Jof leapt out brandishing a towel and ululating the famous war cry "Oh my poor little booble-wooble, let me envelop you..." etc. It's good to have a mother.

Taking a dive for the team

I am injured. While I reckon it was a stress fracture caused by a twisted leg in the football match yesterday, it has proved useful as I got carried to the Triton SCUBA diving shop on Highland Road to donate the Siebe + Gorman mining rescue kit to the safety training shop next door.
The actual safety officer is currently diving off Portland taking pictures of triggerfish who have been attracted here by the warmer waters. But his Dad thinks he'll love it and put it in the shop window.





Then my ghost writer went off with the PuddleDaddies to visit several beery hostelries, so we met the PuddleKiddies in Yellow Plum Park and I scooted and ran about on my broken leg until it got better.
Later at the JBs we battled and played and dressed up. Scooted home at high velocity and hit the sack showerless.

Smack the Bottom, 50p a go

News reaches me that another of London's hidden delights is up for sale. Old Brompton Road tube station was opened in 1906 but closed again 30 years later as it was too close to other stops. It was then used by the War Office and now all of it (apart from the platforms) is up for sale. It needs a little work, but then so do we all.

Expecting to make about £20 million, this bijou residence has plenty of office space above ground and bags of tunnels and wartime memorabilia such as wall maps and ammo bunkers below ground, for aficionados of the dark. Perfect for a bijou resident that likes tunnels and bunkers and playing James Bond and wouldn't mind living next to Harrods. Lottery ticket here we come .....

School was ace. I love it and have already got a birthday party invitation and I got clanged in the leg at lunchtime football and 95% in my maths test. We bought a giant tub of paint for the back yard and then I bought the lottery ticket myself, the sales assistant not even checking my age. I might try buying vodka from the same guy.

In swimming I am in the new group at the new time. 3 of us are yellow hats, and 2 are green but we're all going to become green. Or blue. Nobody seems to know. Anyway, I did 3 lengths and did front crawl but my backstroke is better because you don't have to think about where your mouth is for breathing.

On the way back there was a presentable, decently proportioned girlie at the pedestrian crossing. Goodness me, he said, she seems like a nice girl. Noticing this, I said well she's never going to like you because you're totally ugly and he accepted this sadly, railing against unfairness in general. Furthermore, I continued, I'm amazed that you actually managed to get married in the first place. Right, he said, when we get home, I am going to tie you to a lamppost with no trousers on and say smack the bottom, 50p a go, to all the passers-by, dogs included, for you know how dogs like to be friendly to legs. Also, I will put up a soap dispenser and a little sign saying warning, bottom may not be clean. That is when I got terminal hiccups from the giggling and he stalled the car right on the crossroads, carefully blocking all 4 lanes. Then Jof and I lay on the biggest sofa and got fed bacon sandwiches to help our tired legs. So life isn't so bad after all.

Last of the Summer Whine

Here at last! My first day at big school. Well, bigger school. First thing to talk about was a car on its roof in the middle of the road, with airbags deployed and police all around. Difficult to work out how it managed it. Not as impressive as the Isle of Sheppey crash today in which over 100 vehicles collided in thick fog, a whole bunch of shunts with nobody dead.
Today I found out that both Ben and Poppy are in my class, so the best of both worlds there. The parents think that Ben and I will be permanently separated within 2 days, what do they know, we purposefully chose to be on different tables.
It was mostly a get-to-know day which was really easy. I already know loads of Beaver friends, some gym friends including the Twins-who-have-a-bright-future-in-panto, and the Puddlers. Overall it was a great school day and I'm glad to be back. Someone's older sister says that Level 6 on the big tour of Literacy is an Asian book of tremendous length, I am already quivering in my booties.
At going home time I took Pops back to mine to have brioche and juice but then Baby Edward kicked off a bit so we joined the rest of them for Park Thursday - Resurrected! We were nearly a full Puddle Racket. Ben, Harry and I had scooters and we tried really hard to stop Erin joining in until she got sad and I lent her mine.
Scooter Teams 'Rocket' and 'Cunning Stunts' are battling for a place in the final. It is difficult to know when we might stop whining.
When the JBs finally arrived, we noticed their fine French suntans and we played football until I got miffed with Bob too and while I was getting told off for attitude and whining during supper, I got a severe attack of hurting legs which brought sympathy and a cessation of chastisement.
I think that will be the last of the summer whine as it will rain tomorrow.

Blank Day: a New Hope

I had specifically requested a blank day without the forced route-marching, Yomping, 12-mile bike rides, 5-mile scooter rides, badlands orienteering etc that has characterized my holiday so far.
So I woke Jof up at ten past 7 and screamed and barked on the bed, as you do.
While the builder dug up scrap metal from the yard, I played computer games and watched TV for ages until we finished the Lego project. Normally, this video (1 minute, requires sound) would require Lego walls of at least 10 inches in height but I'm going to my new Junior school tomorrow so we wanted to clear the decks a little. Ideally you have to imagine a cross between Luke Skywalker making his final bombing run on the Death Star and a ghost train-style journey through a post-nuclear Zombie apocalypse warzone.
Then we checked how long it'll take me to walk to school (11 minutes) and it was back to cartoons.

I was actually happy that it's the last day of the hols because I'm looking forward to seeing my friends and doing the whole "New School" thing. My lights were off for 9pm, a record.

Incidentally, is a Cornish Pay-per-kiss Girlie a Plymouth Hoe?

A Worthy Sandpark (dig it)

Drillerman came back this morning and continued to excavate the back yard. New strata seem to be exposed at every turn.
But we left again and this time it was to visit Obscure Cousin Margaret in Boring Goring, from where we caught the double-decker bus to Worthing, for she had found me a new park to try out. With us today was Equally Obscure Cousin John, her half-brother (89). They were separated as children by bombs during the war and didn't meet again for a further 31 years.
Worthing seafront itself is great, with a seriously long promenade but a lot of the façade is somewhat shabby. At 'Splash Point', a grid of giant slate blocks hide little water squirters that throw up a mist when you trigger the system, I used it to cool down.
The new wooden climbing frame park by Denton Gardens is very good indeed. It's not very big but has pirate ship, tunnels, frames, a Loch Ness Monster, 2 sand excavators etc and a volleyball court and large seagull population. As I was in there, some kids lost their sandwiches to gulls when they left the lid off their lunchbox.
Lunch beckoned and we chose a restaurant called 'Macaris' and I polished off my sausage, egg and chips to applause.
By the park is a minigolf. For a mere £6.50 I got the chance to lose 90-62 and got quite angry. The accent here is on slopes: mostly taking you away from the holes and all of them desperately unfair. However the facility has no fence so if you are a local, you can come down after hours and play with your own balls.
I got 7 more minutes on the sand excavator while a massive sea mist suddenly rolled in before we had to go back for the bus. I got very sulky about that. But we reached my gymnastics lesson on time. Drillerman has exposed several new pipes, cables and unknown metal frame things that we didn't know we had.
I have finally lost my first game of Risk (slight sulk). I'll be back.

Did the Earth move for you, too?

Woken up far too early by a dreadful racket. No, not the hawkers of illegal used underage Koalas who ply their evil trade across the road, but the man in our back yard digging it up with a pneumatic drill. I mean, it all looks fun, you get to destroy concrete with a big noisy quantum laser cannon, but we high-tailed it outta there.
Now that he has provided us with a rather average 3-bed semi-detached house with carpets and everything, he was determined to show me how the other half live so we made our annual pilgrimage to 3rd World deprived area "Gosport" via bus and ferry.
As soon as you disembark, the first building you meet is the needle exchange, must be some kind of embroidery bring-and-buy facility, sadly I had left my collection of pins at home, could have exchanged them for an ice pick or something. We trawled the numerous charity shops and noted the wide variety of languages spoken by the mad bearded blokes who sit on the benches talking animatedly to their tins of Capybara Wikkid-Strength lager.
As it was sunny, the swing-park and exercise park were busy with people of my height. I ordered a single choccie ice cream with flake: he thought he was being generous making it a double so I rewarded him by eating only a quarter of it.
We have now bought my school uniform for the new term in 2 days. Shoes, book bag, jumper, I've got them all. Not all of them have the official school crest, but who's counting.
The drilling builder has found several layers of previous flagstones, concretions, cables of unknown origin, and fully expects to find an Indian burial ground or lost tin mine at any point. I think he thought he'd be finished by today.
I was tempted outside by the promise of Lego at the charity shop.
I elected to scoot there, and you know the way it is, I could just scoot down this road, look, round the corner is the seafront, I could just go past Canoe Lake, and before you know it, you're eating ice cream (and finishing it this time) outside the Pyramids with all that way to get home again.
I climbed rocks. I climbed the Pyramids. We threw rocks and found Codling number rocks. In the end I had to be pushed a lot of the way home due to knackered feet after a mere 2 and a half hours of serious investigation. On the way back (needing a poo) we discovered the reason that the pointless bus-only road by Canoe Lake has been renamed "The ocean at the end of the lane" after a Neil Gaiman novel. Born and raised in the area, he is a writer who has collaborated with Sir Terry Pratchett and is a nutter like the rest of us.
After supper (hoovered that one up), we played a bit more Risk. I get very angry when people ruin my plans by taking Kamchatka etc, haven't quite got the hang of the long game yet. While I showered, Jof ordered a dishwasher online (as you do, in her spare 10 minutes for the day) and then I tried on my new school uniform. I already look good. Now I'm going to look uniformly Regal.....

It's Good to be the King

Today my servants got me a Princess. Pops came to pick me up just when I wasn't wearing any trousers and I did 4 hours of parking and food. I don't like butter. It's not that it wouldn't melt, it's just the taste so I carefully dismantled the lunchtime sandwiches that Mrs Pops made for me and did the face that she likes so much.
Mrs Pops has a thing for me and once I'd finished being hugged goodbye, she said why doesn't Pops get one too so I lifted her up and tripped over my bike and we crashed to the ground, all a bit unrequired really.
It's lucky I was with them because there was only really dull stuff going on at home. The front door has been repainted and so have the garage doors and the windowframes and Jof has used a whole tube of filler trying to fill in all the holes in the boiler room and additional voluntary shower room. The brass numbers are missing from the door while the paint dries so the house is currently going incognito. Predictably, hordes of insects flew in from miles around to become entombed in the sticky paint for all time, I guess we shall have to put that on the house particulars when we sell.
But then it was rush rush rush because second appointment was with Ben for park cricket, although he had to be very penitent to be allowed to play following an Argument.
We all took turns and Ben has a better bowling action than me but I am a better Wicket Keeper.
Jof helped me build forts and then we played more Risk. I think Jof is about to be defeated.