Ant-related injuries...

Just returned from Casualty at Uckfield Hospital, where I was treated for a number of injuries caused by accidentally treading on cocktail sticks in the garden. Honestly, they're as sharp as punji sticks!

Wilson was very apologetic and, although initially telling me I should have looked where I was putting my feet, is now busily putting a tiny protective cork on the top of each spike. 

On the plus side, though, he says that there is a real buzz in the ant community about the Britain's Got Ants auditions and almost wherever he looks he sees little groups of ants practicing line dancing or acrobatic tricks.

Advance publicity

Before I had a chance to object, Wilson retired to his bed in the tumble drier to think about his new plan. 

About an hour later I found him sitting at the iMac designing a poster. 

Now the garden is filled with minute placards on cocktail sticks, proclaiming:

BRITAIN'S GOT ANTS! Can you dance? Sing? Juggle? Come to the stage in front of the Museum of Old Stuff on Monday and audition for a Wonderful Prize!

I asked W what the prize would be, and he told me there would be a jar of flavoured sugar and the chance to appear on Simon Cowell's Britain's Got Ants tv show. 

'So Simon Cowell has agreed to this?' I asked, incredulously. 

'I'm just waiting for him to return my call' W replied, confidently.

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What was Wilson Vermilingua OBE doing last month? Have you missed anything? I've just uploaded the fifth monthly volume of Ant Wars II: MAY 2012. 

This edition contains all the news about his Birthday!

Please tell all your friends, as it is Wilson's stated ambition for his life story to, as he puts it, "Spread like a Very Infectious Thing!". 

I think he means 'Go Viral'.

You can download it or read it online at:

http://issuu.com/friendlydragon/docs/ant_wars_may_2012

Ambitious new plan

I mentioned the Ant Problem to Wilson last night. He apologised for the 45 minute delay in rescuing me from the ants and offered to rub on some of the antihistamine cream I got from my doctor following the attack. He did giggle over the word ant-ihistamine, though, which I thought rather devalued his apology.

This morning, though, he outlined his ambitious new plan to rid the garden of ants: Britain's Got Ants - a talent show for ants. 

He proposes to put up tiny posters all over the garden advertising the event, then hold auditions on a miniature stage he'll set up near the Museum of Old Stuff. 'The most talented ants' he explained, 'will be put in a box and sent off to Simon Cowell.' 

I asked whether Simon Cowell knew about this, or whether receiving a box of live ants through the post would come as a surprise to him. 'I'll give him a call in a minute to arrange a contract and royalties,' W replied. 

So much for the talented ants, but what about the inept, dumb ants? 

'Oh I'll eat those, naturally!' W assured me. 

I am attacked...

Wilson is very busy in the shed preparing the Wilson Vermilingua OBE Museum Of Old Stuff, so it has been left to me to work in the garden removing the weeds that have sprung up while we were away in Devon.

I was getting on with this when I was cruelly subjected to an almost unprovoked attack by thousands of ants, crawling all over me and stinging quite painfully. I called out to W to come immediately to my aid. He called back, 'I'm a bit busy at the moment - try to save some for me'. 

I shall have to try to find a tactful way of reminding him why he came to live with me in the first place.

Cream Tea is served

As promised, Wilson has just served up a Traditional Devonshire Clotted Cream Tea With Ant Jam, made to his mum Mrs Vermilingua's secret recipe. He said that it was her 'signature dish'.

However, I've just seen how the Ant Jam is made: W stands an open pot of strawberry jam in the middle of the lawn and waits until some ants discover it. Once thousands of ants have crowded into the jar, he screws the lid on and shakes it vigorously until it stops moving about on its own. 

W was so proud of his jam that I felt I had to eat a little of it… but I think he might suspect I didn't enjoy it quite as much as I said I did. Maybe my body language gave me away.

Home again...

We've just arrived back home from Devon. Wilson was very sad to leave, though I have to admit I'll be happy to sleep in my own bed tonight. 

We brought a lot of clotted cream and scones home with us, and W has promised to make his speciality Devonshire Clotted Cream Tea With Ant Jam tomorrow. 

Eurovision Song Contest

Last night we watched Eurovision on the communal tv in the hotel lounge. Surprisingly, we were the only people watching it.

Wilson held his head in his paws through most of Englebert's performance, then came out strongly for Romania, declaring it a shoe-in… though he did think the Russian Grannies were quite funny.

By the time the voting started he was fuming about Eastern Bloc countries voting for each other... but I suppose that's the thing about a bloc. 

He was truly shocked when Sweden won, as he was still sure Romania could pull back almost until the last minute. Also, he wants a hat like the Danish singer wore. 

Whatever, we've had a lovely time in Devon, but tomorrow we must head for home.