Crossing over the Jupiter Sands

Well it was Wednesday Park again so we took a football that was too big for our skill levels and toe-busted our way to victory.
LittleMax joined me and we ganged up on Bud but he flicked me in the ear in return for me kicking him in the willy, quite an unjustified over-reaction so I sulked on the ground for 20 minutes.

Cycling to Sailing, Ben and Erin passed us in their steely chariots, must drive there next week. We were all changed and ready nice and early and the tutors sorted the boats out for us to maximise our sea-time. Oscar and Johnny and James joined us.
But the lowest tide of the year is tomorrow and today's was pretty low and still receding so in the end we couldn't put the keels down and had to go back to dry land. So we didn't even cross the Jupiter Muds.
Meanwhile our tame photographer had cycled all the way round to Farlington Marshes nature reserve to take pictures of us from another angle but we were all inside the clubhouse by then, only the Tudor Sailing club were out on the water and that's because they've got the little baby bathtub boats with no keels. Here is a denizen of the nature reserve, not much good for the first of the month.
Ben and others had mudfights and got into trouble and then he stepped out of the shower-room and waved his willy and we all laughed. So we went into the classrooms and learned about wind direction and filled in forms about parts of the boat and played hangman and when the tutor went out of the room some of us hid under the chairs and made dens but Erin and I worked.
My hangman word was Jib Sheet and nobody got it, they all got well hung even with an extra bloke operating the trapdoor lever.

Drum-head ceremony

Last week I officially gave up the guitar because I can't handle homework. Surely something like that should be instilled by lessons alone without filling up my sofa-time, and I've got no free time after school anyway.
Today at school one of the teachers did a big drum solo to drum up support for drum lessons and Bo had a go and he was nearly as good as the adult and I asked Bud if I could go to drum club and he said no! I couldn't believe it. Surely drums would be fine because you can't do homework unless you buy me a drum set and I've got all that free time after school to fill up ...
Jof had to go back to Nanna's house today and go to her Uncle Ron's funeral, not a happy task so soon after saying goodbye to Nanna.
Today is Erin's actual birthday and she got a Chopper bike, I'll have to have a race with her. We managed to fit in a trip to Hilsea Lido Park where I got sand in my shoes and impressed all the little people with my ability to slip over on the wobbly bridge.

Agreed, Principally

Today we agreed a price for Nanna's house with someone that only saw it on Saturday. I suppose we made an offer on our house the day after we saw it, so why not.
So when we got home from school we tried out my Augustus Gloop costume. Jof had found me a boring white T-shirt and Bud drilled a hole in his leather belt so that it would fit me and here I am, although this may not be my final face.
It might not be my final cushion either, it's quite cumbersome and I might find a slightly smaller one. I even won a Merit Certificate from my teacher for getting 100% in the Roald Dahl test.
Late last night one of the upstairs light bulbs blew, tripping the safety cut-out. So Bud had to go under the stairs at 0530 and switch the electricity back on again and when we replaced the light bulb this afternoon, we thought we could do better in the dining room.
Here we have a pair of African elephants on some 1960's desk lamp set, with a 15 watt labour-saving lightbulb and over-shady lampshade. In Big B&Q we found a 35 watt bulb and new, more transparent shade, so now we'll be able to see what we're eating for dinner! Maybe that's not a good idea when he cooks ...
The Scoutmaster emailed us and said that all Scout badges have to be sewn onto uniforms by tonight. Sadly our official seamstress (Nanna) is no longer available and so Jof will have to take over. We played DodgeBall and welcomed some new Scouting starters and talked about the sleepovers.

Yipee Ki-Yay, Feather-Plucker

Well nobody wanted to get up today. We all lay in bed waiting for the other one to get up first and then Jof and I met on the landing, naked.
In the end Jof had to go back to Nanna's house so we gave her a lift to the station and ploughed on to town. I wish to play Augustus Gloop at the up coming Roald Dahl day so we tried Primark for the blue jacket he wears. This reasonably priced clothing outlet had a strange aroma and displays of Wrong Direction memorabilia but we fitted in with the clientele and bought a denim shirt thing with big pockets so I can have bars of chocolate sticking up out of them.
In Sainsbury's we found unknown film "Die Hard" which Jof has recommended for my consumption.
For the exercise part of the day we cycled to the Pyramids (still not open) and threw rocks near the fishermen and had ice creams. At Canoe Lake the Portsmouth Model Ship society or similar was having a big re-enactment in which several wooden warships of the Royal Navy pummelled a French fortified port until it raised the white flag which is second nature to our Gallic Garlic-crunching buddies.

The ships all had guns which were very loud and quite a crowd gathered to see the victory and hear that Britons shall never ever be slaves, although if Scotland wins independence, this protection may no longer apply to them and they may find themselves enslaved by aliens or something. In the swingpark next door a 5 year-old girl asked us repeatedly which one of us was a big sh*tty-head. The things these young people say nowadays.
At home what else could we do but eat Erin's scrumptious birthday cake and watch Die Hard. I want to be an FBI agent, preferably one that arrives in a helicopter. Poor old Jof didn't get back from Nanna's place until 915.

Mittendorf Dots and the Older Woman

Up nice and early and then off to town for an eye test. While accompanying Bud to his eye test last month, I failed to read the "No smoking in this building" sign so was duly booked in for my own.
Well the chap was very nice and I sat in the chair and wore the stupid glasses and read out the letters on the board and my right eye is fine and my left eye is just a little bit Lopez but not bad enough to warrant glasses.
Then he looked deep into my eyes with the lens with light attached and said goodness me, Mittendorf Dots. Bless you, I said. These are little congenital cataracts left over from when the Hyaloid artery is reabsorbed after birth. So I'm a freak after all, no operation required but it's something to keep an eye on, aha. He was very pleased with himself for spotting them.
So next week is Roald Dahl day and I am going to go as Augustus Gloop, with a blue jacket and cushion stuffed up my shirt. We tried 5 charity shops on the way home, no jackets whatsoever unless I'm a fifties-something female with a penchant for gold braiding.
However I did find Die Hard with a Vengeance AND Red Heat AND Terminator 3 so rather a good haul. Jof says Red Heat is possibly the worst movie ever made, which is a bit rich coming from her considering she likes things like Love Actually and Sliding Doors.
Today is the PuddleParty marking Erin's 9th birthday. We walked round and oscillated between sitting quietly in front of the TV and bombing around the house with balloons stuffed up our shirts. Are we getting more or less easy to control?
Erin found and served up the Stonehenge biscuits and I got to bed near midnight.

Chomping Trash (and making a splash)

Settled down now into being last out of the classroom at going-home time, one could argue that it's because I am keen on schoolwork and unwilling to leave.
Finally I had enough time to finish off my Lego Movie Trash Chomper.
This unreasonably priced child's brick-based assembly set has been in my possession for 5 whole days but I've not had a minute to build it. Forget ye not that the Lego Millennium Falcon (120 of your Earth pounds) took me a mere 6 hours to construct, so 5 days is frankly poor in comparison.
Also we admired the fruits (spoils) of our summer holidays in the form of biscuits, clotted cream fudge and overwrought chocolates, some of which are for Erin's birthday and PuddleParty tomorrow. I too cannot believe it's been 4 'yurs' since we all left nursery together.
In this eclectic (and epileptic) selection you will see:
Dona Jimena Spanish chocolate assortment (from Majorca), Stonehenge chocolate tiles, Ministry of Food chocolate from the Explosion museum, Submarine Museum clotted cream fudge (fudge-packed by genuine submariners), Wookey Hole fudge (very chewy) and Stonehenge Biscuits (rock hard).
At swimming 3 of the teachers were retiring so after the usual front crawl relay/float board relay/backstroke relays, we had a diving competition.
Now it just so happens that recently I underwent (and underwater) an intensive water-skills course in Majorca taught by Bud. Thus my arrow dive (so named because you cut through the water like a phlebotomist's hypodermic needle) won the competition outright. I skimmed the bottom of the pool and resurfaced further, faster and with more style than the Silver Hatters who are 2 levels above me! Roll on the next summer holidays, for I might qualify as a helicopter pilot, anaesthetist and cave diver!
How many Mexicans does it take to change a lightbulb? Just Juan.

Die, Fledermaus

I'm back to my old habits of getting out of school last, my excuse yesterday was the trapping-fingers-in-door one, but today was simple honest chatter.
On the way home we saw an old bloke at the crossing decide to cross when it wasn't his turn. The first car round the corner braked suddenly to avoid killing him, and a taxi went in the back of it. The old bloke wandered off and left them to it.
Thursday is a bona fide day off for me, so we made some hard decisions. I have so many activities that I barely have time to draw breath. Guitar lessons/practise is one of those, and my heart just isn't in it any more. So we bagged up the instrument and we will save £20 per half-term on lessons. I'll take it in on Tuesday and give it to the school pro bono publico.
Loom-banding was a big craze last term, and I have many looms and bands in a wide spectrum of pastel and groovy hues. But after sailing and guns and bombs and stuff, I've lost interest, after all, it is for girls.
Every now and then, we get a mouse at home. After us chaps have gone to bed, Jof stays up playing HayMaker or knitting quietly, and out he comes, tours the lounge and hoovers up the biscuit crumbs that I left earlier.
So clearly we leave special blue barley out for the hungry little beggar, and he eats that too. But in the last few days, he's given up coming out for his evening walk, possibly because he's eaten all the blue food and there's none left. So Jof told us to go hunting for little stiff mice, habeas corpus and all that.
We looked behind the TV, just a lot of cables.
We looked behind her wool collection, and Yea, there were the chewings of the blue barley and some mouse poo. But no corpse was forthcoming so we refilled all the poison pots just in case, and went to the park to play football, stopping off to bequeath my Loom-band collection to Pops. She looked very pleased and Bud said you should get some serious snogs there but I'm too shy.
In the park I played football with Owen and an old Wimbornian, all 3 shirtless. I was gratified to see that I was not the fattest. Later I actually got some Lego-time, making the most of my only day off.

Here is a free 2015 Calendar (UK) year planner in Excel format, in case you have to plan your life around one of us angels.

Park and Sail (not Park and Ride)

'Bak to Skool' say the signs in every shop window, although, for my money, that suggests the signwriters and Bill Posters himself need to go back to school.
All this of course means that the much vaunted Year 4 has begun after only 6 weeks off, how am I supposed to relax in so short a time, a mere 1.3% of my life.
I've got the same teacher as last year but a whole new load of classmates. My England hat got nicked on the first day and straight after assembly my finger got trapped between the swinging doors and I left my first day howling, remind me not to go to the Broken Spoke bar.
But they have a new method of encouraging good behaviour - the house-point lottery. Every time you're good, you get a house point and now you get a raffle ticket that goes into the big bran tub of doom and some winners are drawn out of the hat at term-end, I suspect, for prizes and sweeties.
Well, it was Wednesday so I attended Wednesday Park and met LittleMax and Owen and Charlie and we played little football until Ben arrived and then we had to play big football. Earlier this week, a chap in the park asked a couple of the schoolgirls if he could see their knickers in return for a £10 note. Gosh, we must live in a really classy and rich area if they're offering tenners!
Then we cycled up to the Sailing Club and everyone was reading their new Sailing log books with added certificates and badge level attainment charts! I just had to have one.
Today I was paired up with a 14 year-old who is on, like, level 10 so I learnt a lot from him. Erin and Ben and James were in the other craft but there was absolutely no wind so we drifted around slowly, they even got their rigging tangled with a rival yacht! We sat motionless on the water and watched a beautiful sunset through the trees.
After a while, the 3-man boat started paddling and there might have been a bit of splashing and retaliation and a clap round the chops so they were not all happy, but this is par for the course, because when 3 or more of us are gathered together, we don't always recite the parrot sketch. Us 2 capsized twice, he's heavy enough to right the boat by standing on the centreboard so we were just doing it for the fun. Lots to log in my new book ...

Captain Ridley's Shooting Party*

Due to better weather, Jof cycled me into childminding this morning, a ten minute journey if you dawdle. But it took us 20 minutes because of my lack of attention -
"Turn left at the end of the road"
"What?"
"Turn left at the end of the road"
"What road?"
"The road we're on"
"What?"
And so forth. Of course, this is because Jof forgot to install V 3.2 of the Headslap Alertness Emulator, a windmill-shaped device that fits onto the side of the bike helmet. Powered by the rear wheel via a pulley system, it spins slowly administering endless spanks to the head of the sleeping child, keeping him alert.
For childminding we did restful games followed by violent games, girls against boys which was very unfair, 7-0 and 1 draw, when both goalposts collapsed. We also did a clue-hunt in which we discovered the church was built in 1866. When picked up I had hurting leg syndrome from yesterday and dragged one foot behind me like a lightly fried Terminator going ow ow ow but he still made me do gymnastics.
Apparently I might have to adhere to the school-recommended bedtimes instead of grudgingly turning off my light at 10pm. After I was asleep, Jof came home with enough fruit to sink an elephant, having won 'Slimmer of the Week' again.
*'Captain Ridley's Shooting Party' was the cover story for the population of Bletchley Park Code-breaking centre before the hostilities of the 2nd World War broke out. The Autumn term begins tomorrow

The Ghost in the Vestibule

Today was childcare day because nobody has as much holiday as me, apart from the Queen.
So we got there on time and he abandoned me in the church hall. The whole first section of the day was exercises, squat thrusts, starjumps, burpies, rolls, running up and down, all the usual stuff. At least it kept us busy.
Joining me today were Amy, Poppy C, Julian the Naughty and many others from schools and activities that I attend.
In the afternoon was "Free Play" where the leaders just let you get on with it so I made an extensive den using upturned chairs and crash mats and hid thereunder with some girls and made flame throwers in memory of dear departed Fireball from The Running Man.
Someone has offered some money for Nanna's house, but for me, it'll never be enough.

At going-home time, we noticed that the door to the adjacent church itself was ajar so we effected a quiet entry and investigated. The chap said the upper rafters above the organ were a known hiding place for a ghost but we don't do ghosts, we do back staircases and so when the chap had gone, we tried all the doors and I gave a brief but impassioned speech from the pulpit. I am just visible but my shirt matches the dangly tapestry things.
Sadly the organ loft and bellringer's cleft were locked.