At last, I think I know what's going on!

I asked Wilson directly, and he confirmed that he was indeed opening a gallery of contemporary art.

He confided that he was initially going to call it the Wilson Contemporary, but feared that its initials – W.C. – might cause a measure of unwelcome mirth… and moreover, as it was mostly Byron's idea he thought that maybe he should share the credit by using a name that included them both.



The lads are cladding the walls of the shed with artificial brick panels, and I have to say it's looking very good!

I might have a word and ask them whether they'd do one of the walls in the living room the same… but I don't suppose I could afford their rates.

I must say that the Museum has been completely transformed, both inside and out – although it's not very big, the new wall finish and colour make it look much more spacious and airy.

If only I knew what they were going to use it for – I hope it's not a Drinking Club or some kind of Clip Joint!



The boys have now packed all the exhibits from the Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot into cardboard boxes –  and moved them into the dining room.

It puts me in mind of the time Wilson started his own Self Storage business, when every room in the house was crammed with boxes of strangers' stuff – I didn't enjoy that, but at least Wilson was getting paid for it.

In other news, Wilson is still waiting for his first BorisBoard®™ order to pour in. 

He's putting a brave face on it, but I think he's starting to accept that it's not going to make him rich…



The boys are busy re-painting the Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot – although I don't yet know why.

The chosen colour – White With A Hint of Curiosity – looks very clean and fresh, and it does make the shed look very bright –  eye-catching, even… and I don't mean that in a wholeheartedly good way.

Still, both the lads are full of enthusiasm, and Wilson says that once the paint on the outside is dry they can start on completely refurbishing the interior.



I've driven Wilson and Byron round to Green's DIY in the village to buy some white paint. 

Exterior paint seems very expensive – but as long as whatever Wilson has planned to do with it distracts him from his fear of being deported, I really don't mind.

Of more concern is the time it's taking to choose the right shade of paint – I'd like five minutes alone with the marketing guy who came up with the 'White With A Hint Of…' concept!

Anyway, they have finally decided on a colour which describes itself as 'White With A Hint Of Curiosity' so now it remains only to pay, drive home and learn where it is to be applied…



Since there has been no sign of the Police, Immigration Department, UK Border Force or any other official body checking up on him, Wilson has finally judged it safe for him and his brother Byron to emerge from the Brexit Shelter and resume life above ground – albeit, he spends quite a lot of time looking nervously over his shoulder, and always checks the spy-hole before opening the front door.

W is finding it very difficult to get warm after his chilly subterranean sojourn and insists on wearing a shawl until his body temperature returns to normal – a process he is encouraging by consuming copious amounts of very hot coffee laced with gin.

During their time underground there was much opportunity for thinking and talking, and Byron spoke at length about a subject close to his heart – Modern Art – reminiscing fondly about our visit to the Turner Contemporary Gallery in Margate last year.

Wilson has told me that these chats have given him a Brilliant Idea to generate some income – just to tide him over until orders for his BorisBoard®™ start to pour in. 

He hasn't told me what the idea is, but obviously, I'm expecting the worst…



Mole has just returned, covered in mud, to pass on a message from Wilson!

Unused to being the centre of attention, he was breathless with excitement, and Dave and Neil also basked in their new-found fame.

Eventually, Mole gathered his thoughts and, taking a deep breath, finally relayed Wilson's message: 

'He says he'll think about it.'
Not quite the message I'd hoped for, but positive nonetheless. 

Anteaters are not intended to live underground for extended periods of time, so I'm hopeful that he'll risk emerging from his sanctuary soon.

I'll pop out in a minute and waft some freshly-brewed coffee with marshmallows fumes outside the entrance to the Shelter, and I might mention that the next episode of Star Trek: Picard is available – maybe that will do the trick…



This morning I sent Mole the Mole out to the Asteroid Shelter (AKA Brexit Shelter) to inform Wilson and Byron that there had be no sign of, nor communication from, the UK Border Force or the Immigration Department, and perhaps it was safe for them to come out now.

Dave the Pig and Neil the Sloth kept Mole company – not for anything they could contribute to the situation, but neither of them gets out much, and I thought the fresh air might do them good…



Hello, welcome, we are 🐝 Polly and 🐝 Billi The Bees, and we're a bit worried…

As you know, even in the face of Death by Pesticide we Bees like to put a Brave Face On Things, to smile through the tears, so to speak, because as Ms Davina McCall once said, 'Nobody wants to see a Sad Bee' – but there's just no getting around this.

We have just left the EU, with all its brilliant wildlife and animal protection programmes and policies – and because of that our dear friend Wilson has gone into hiding, living underground and eating worms!

Now we're not in the EU any more, Wilson is certain he's about to be deported to Costa Rica as an Undesirable Alien… or possibly an Illegal Immigrant, we can't remember which.

Anyway, we can't bear to think of him and his poor brother Byron living in the damp earth and eating invertebrates, so we're going to have a word with his New Dad to see if he can't tempt him out and reassure him.

So, we've been The Bees and we're not happy

We're actually extremely anxious, perturbed, concerned, distressed, fretful and agitated. Also apprehensive, fearful and afraid.

We'll probably see you again next month, and until then, BEEEEE KIND WHEN POSSIBLE!

(PS – it's always possible…)



Tomorrow night at 23h00GMT the UK officially leaves the European Union 🇪🇺 😢

Wilson is convinced that he will immediately be deported, so he and his half-brother Byron have decided to seek sanctuary by hiding in what used to be his Asteroid Shelter.

Honestly, I blame myself for letting him watch The Diary Of Anne Frank on tv over the weekend, but I can't change that now.

Mole the Mole, skilled in the art of underground living, has imparted much valuable advice – although most of it concerns choosing the best kind of worms to eat.

I can't see Wilson, a staunch vegetarian, being prepared to do that…



Wilson has got a lot on his mind at the moment. 

The UK officially leaves the European Union on Friday night, and he is convinced that by Saturday morning officials from the Immigration Office will arrive, tear him from my side and deport him to Costa Rica.

Not that he's got anything against Costa Rica – it's just that he's never been there in his life and won't know anyone.

So in an attempt to distract him, we all settled down to watch Star Trek Picard, the new Star Trek series which sees Jean-Luc retired and farming wine on a vinyard in France. 

W celebrated by opening a bottle of Chateau Picard Labarre vintage 2267!

I have no idea and I didn't ask, but it was delicious – full-bodied and fruity, and gratifyingly free of ants!

I'm sure W's fears about deportation are mostly unfounded, although in these times who can be certain? 

If he does get repatriated, he won't even be able to finish watching Star Trek Picard



Following his recent interview with Uckfield FM, Wilson has come to realise that – being altogether too honest, principled and trustworthy – he is not really cut out for a life in politics.

Moreover, he has confessed to me that fees accruing from Sloth Party membership are 'disappointing', so he has dissolved the Party (much in the manner of Change UK) and taken steps to de-register The Sloth Party with the Electoral Commission. 

Instead, he has reverted to his role of inventor/entrepreneur and designed: THE BORISBOARD®™

This is simply a darts board bearing a likeness of the eponymous leader looking smug and stupid. I say 'simply' but Wilson assures me that – like all Great Inventions – its beauty lies in its simplicity…

He predicts 'Brisk sales' of the BorisBoard®™ to disgruntled Labour Party and Liberal Democrat supporters.

Also paid-up ex-members of The Sloth Party, to whom he will offer a 'modest' discount.



Early this morning there was a knock at the door.

Wilson, who was in the middle of his breakfast, was a little bit vexed by the interruption, but brushing toast crumbs from his mouth he went to answer the door – to a journalist from our local radio station!

In the run-up to the last General Election, Wilson observed many politicians being doorstepped by tv journalists, and at first he employed the Jeremy Corbyn tactic, saying, 'Hello, so lovely to see you. Goodbye!' but after a moment's reflection he remembered how that had turned out on voting day and switched to a more Boris-like strategy.

Ruffling the fur on the top of his head, he began smiling and flirting with the journo, who had come to interview him not about – as he'd feared – his and Nërp's fly-posting, but to canvass his opinion on whether he aspired ever to be Prime Minister.

In my time, I've heard several MPs vehemently deny ever wanting to become PM – including Boris Johnson and Margaret Thatcher – before going on to do exactly that

Wilson's denial, though, had a distinct ring of truth and sincerity – two qualities which in themselves should be sufficient to exclude him from a career in politics.

He told the interviewer, 'Anyone who aspires to be Prime Minister should, on those grounds alone, be ruled totally unsuitable for the post!'

He rose enormously in my estimation at that point – he is indeed wise beyond his years!

Unlike most recent Prime Ministers…



Wilson knows that I strongly disapprove of Fly Posting, but since he and Nërp are sticking his Sloth Party posters only on the newly-constructed Uckfield Wall I suppose I can't really complain.

The whole purpose of the Wall is to be covered in graffiti, so I dare say a poster or two won't make much difference…



Should you wish to walk around wearing a badge proclaiming you to be a MUG, this is your big day!

Wilson is certain that many of his friends and readers will want to avail themselves of such an opportunity, so he is giving you each a free Make Uckfield Great badge… I'm not quite as confident!



Another of the Sloth Party's Manifesto Pledges is to Make Uckfield Great!

I happen to think Ucky is already pretty great, so I asked Wilson exactly what he meant by 'Great', for I suspect the is using the slogan Make Uckfield Great in the sense 'Make Wilson Rich' – and I was not disappointed.

'Well,' Wilson explained, 'There will be top quality Make Uckfield Great merchandise: baseball caps, badges and… well, mugs. Would you like one? I can let you have it at mate's rates – let's call it £10.'

I declined, saying that I had no wish to wear a baseball cap proclaiming me as a MUG – enough people already hold that opinion of me, without me wearing a hat confirming it. 😕

W countered that if everyone in Uckfield wore a MUG cap and drunk their coffee out of a reusable MUG mug, it would be a clear statement of intention, and might even make the National tv News channels.

I can't argue with that…



At first I assumed this proposed wall was to be constructed as a Tourist Attraction in the manner of the Great Wall of China, or perhaps Hadrian's Wall, but it is apparently to be erected in the village near the skateboard park for the use of graffiti artists.

Never having been one to let the grass grow under his paws, work on constructing the wall has already begun: in spite of the inclement weather, Wilson (Architect), Byron (Senior Brick Layer)  and Antony (Foreman and Site Safety Officer) are all down at the Skate Park hard at work architecting, brick-laying, foreman-ing and site safetying – whatever that actually means.



Another of The Sloth Party's Manifesto Pledges is – inconceivably – to build a WALL. 

Wilson assures me that it will be 'A Magnificent wall. A Beautiful wall. A Great wall: The Great Wall Of Uckfield!'

I asked whether the Mexicans are going to pay for it, but Wilson appeared not to understand the reference.

After discussing this most improbable of plans for a few minutes, Wilson asked me, 'Do you think the Mexicans WOULD pay for it?'

Wilson is very excited to report that his Blog has received an all-time total of 70,000 hits!
Please tell all your friends so he can go on to reach the target he's set his heart on: 100,000.



With the Royal Crisis out of the way, Wilson's attention has returned to his newly-formed Sloth Party.

In an attempt to understand his Party's platform, I asked whether 'Sloth' was being used in the sense of 'Reluctance To Work' or to describe the slow-moving South American mammal?

'The mammal, of course! Wilson replied, 'Sloths are super-cute and V popular right now, as are Llamas and Alpacas – hence the alliance! But never forget,' he added, 'indolence is a Great Virtue!'

I then enquired how he intended to get rich from this enterprise, and he explained, 'In the same way as Mr Trump, but without the lying, the cheating, the nepotism, the racism or the imprisonment of little children – unlike him, I am not a total monster!' 

What does that leave, I wonder? I hope it's not a Hotel or a Golf Course.

'Watch and learn, New Dad,' he continued, 'Watch and learn – I have many policies in my… well, our Manifesto. Many, many wonderful policies! Tremendous policies! Believe me!'

He ruffled his hair disarmingly, a very Boris gesture. I fear he's quite good at this… 

I don't like to mention that Trump, in common with most of our previous Tory Prime Ministers, is rich because he inherited his wealth – often from parents who are crooks and/or tax-evaders – because I wouldn't want to discourage him in his political awakening.



Leafing through the paper yesterday, Wilson asked my opinion of the 'Constitutional Crisis' caused by Prince Harry and Meghan withdrawing from public life.

I think what he meant was, 

'Should The Sloth Party take a political stance on this?'
He remarked that, if only HM The Queen had not repeatedly refused to ratify his OBE, all of this could have been so easily avoided.

I knew I'd regret asking, but I couldn't help myself – 'How so?' I enquired.

'Well, if HRH The Queen had been on better terms with me, a little more willing to give and take, I would happily have stepped into the breach,' he replied, 'subject to the usual terms vis-a-vis the Civil List, obviously!'

'Prince Wilson…' I mused, 'and what of your Consort?'

'I think that, following my Coronation, the lovely Caroline Katz might well have reconsidered her position. Or Ms Winkelman – as a prince I would be a Well Eligible Bachelor – the ladies would be fighting over me! HRH Prince Wilson the 1st and Princess Claudia – what do you think?'

He closed his eyes and smiled…