My spelling is corrected...

Wilson and I took advantage of the lovely weather today to do a little gardening; I did some weeding while W probed the ground for early spring ants. After an hour or so we took a break and sat down in the garden with a cup of tea each, and I mentioned my research concerning the Colon Exchange Rate. 

Wilson was much less excited than I expected, saying that he was born in England and is a British citizen, therefore his savings should be accounted in the currency of this country: Pounds Sterling, no more, no less. Moreover, he reminded me that the money is no longer his prime concern, the welfare of the baby sloths is all that occupies his mind. 

He also pointed out that the correct spelling is Colones!

Result!

I finally got hold of the iPad without Wilson noticing what I was doing, and that nice Mr Google (how does he know so much?) informed me that the currency in Costa Rica is called the Colon, and has an exchange rate of 1 Colon:0.00123 £GB -- only a smidgin over a farthing! So, at today's rate of exchange, 1,000,000 Colon are worth only a little over a grand.  

Later today I will tell Wilson that he need make only £1200 to be a Colon Millionaire and fulfil his promise to his mother.

Currency ponderings...

Wilson was using the iPad all day yesterday, researching the Sloth Orphanage and teddy bear manufacturers, so I've still not had a chance to check out my idea...

When I was a child, I remember working out what it would take to be a Farthing Millionaire. One farthing was a ¼ of an old penny, and there were 240 pennies in a pound, so I would need only… £1041/12/8d. 

Wilson's Great [something] Grandfather Alberto Victor Gutiérrez-López was a millionaire… in Costa Rica. Can you see where I'm going with this thought?

A rare moment of clarity!

In the early hours of this morning I awoke with a start - I had experienced a revelation, an insight, a moment of satori! 

I reached out of bed and groped around for my iPad. Of course, I couldn't find it as Wilson had stowed it in his nest in the tumble dryer, so I'll have to wait until later when I can use it without him noticing. There's something I need to check out before I talk to him - I don't want to raise his hopes in case I'm wrong about this.

A life of philanthropy

Last night we watched a documentary on Animal Planet about an orphanage for sloths in Costa Rica. Wilson was riveted to the screen as he's never actually been to Costa Rica and was desperate to see what his homeland looked like. 

While I cooed over the baby sloths, he waxed lyrical about the countryside… although he did admit that some of the baby sloths were 'quite cute'. 

Each of the baby sloths had a teddy bear to hug, and W has decided that his mission in life will be to raise money to send teddy bears to the Sloth Orphanage, declaring, 'I shall devote my life to philanthropy, to help those less fortunate than myself'. 

'What about the domestic robot you were going to invent?' I asked him. He considered this for a moment, and announced, 'When they are trained, they can assemble teddy bears for the baby sloths. This is now my life's work!'

Wilson plans to restore his reputation

Following his 'exposure' in what he now calls 'the gutter press', Wilson intends to restore his reputation and put everything right by inventing and building a domestic robot. 'It will be a boon to all mankind' he assures me. 

W eventually told me about his problem with the sheep. It seems they were quietly grazing in Hempsted Meadow - the sheep on grass, Wilson hunting unsuccessfully for ants - when they started telling each other jokes. The sheep made the fatal mistake of telling W the 'very rude ant-eater joke', and that finished their relationship. 

It remains now only for me to discover what that joke is...

A disappointment for Wilson

We set off early this National Ant Day heading to the woods and carrying our essential supplies: a gold crown and a jam jar. It was cold and damp, barely light yet, but Wilson assured me that 'it's the early anteater that catches the ant' which is apparently a traditional Costa Rican proverb(!)

We looked under all the rotting tree trunks and other likely places, but without success. 'Of course, National Ant Day is always a lot warmer in Costa Rica,' he remarked. 'It's so cold in your country that the ants are probably still hibernating.'

It appears that Wilson's Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, was crowned Ant Queen three successive years when she was a child, a feat which no anteater in Costa Rica has ever equalled, before or since. 

W was determined to be Ant King this year… all he had to do was find an ant. But sadly it was not to be. 'We'll have much better luck next year' he pronounced, confidently. What a brave little soldier!

We've just arrived home and I'm about to make some hot chocolate to warm us up. I might slip a little Ant Gin into it...