An idea too far...

Wilson has shown me an article in National Geographic about the giant Easter Island heads… and his 'brilliant idea' is to construct some full-size replica heads in the garden. In time for his Charity Open Day. Full size -- they're enormous! He says he's certain they would draw visitors from all over the country.

When W first came to live with me, his brief was clear: to rid my garden of ants. No more, no less. Funny how things turn out… 

Reason prevails

I've persuaded Wilson not to build his tennis-viewing hill until next year at the earliest because it would disrupt his Charity Garden Open Day: instead of a gorgeous spectacle of flowers the garden would look like a building site.

W agreed that this was a sensible idea, but hurried off to get the National Geographic magazine which arrived yesterday. There's something in it he wants to show me. 

Already I fear the worst...

Wilson's new money-making scheme

Yesterday Wilson noticed Wimbledon's Henman Hill for the first time. He asked me why crowds of people were sitting there just watching the tennis on a big TV, when the real matches were being played only a few feet away. I explained what it was about, and he got the sort of 'thoughtful' look which never bodes well.

This morning he announced that he was going to build a big hill in the garden and nail our plasma screen to a nearby tree. 

I told W that I didn't think people would pay to sit on a hill in our garden when they could sit in the comfort of their own homes and watch the tennis.

'No,' he replied, 'The beauty of the plan is that we let them in for nothing, then sell them delicious ant-based snacks and cocktails. If it rains, we sell them souvenir umbrellas. And if the tennis gets boring, we change the channel and show re-runs of Frasier or The Jeremy Kyle Show or…' he beamed, 'Titanic: The Film: The DVD! It will be like a drive-in. I shall call the hill Vermilingua's Volcano!' 

A painful realisation

Yesterday afternoon, Wilson had a revelation, a satori insight, a light-bulb moment: the Wimbledon singles winner receives £1,000,000. He immediately ran off to the Museum of Old Stuff to look for a tennis racquet. 

An hour later he returned, empty-pawed and wearing a disappointed expression. 'I couldn't stay awake for the length of even a three-set singles match,'  he admitted. 'I couldn't even stay awake long enough to find a tennis racquet in the Museum. I am doomed by my genes never to win a million at Wimbledon.'

I seem to recall we went through exactly the same thing this time a year ago, so I don't think he'll stay downhearted for too long.

Wimbledon fortnight

As a member of the Sloth family, Wilson is not especially athletic. However, he spent most of yesterday afternoon watching (ie dozing in front of) Wimbledon on the tv. 

He's not greatly interested in the tennis, but he does like to see how many 'Wilson' baseball caps and tennis racquets he can spot!

Progress with the robot

Building the robot is proving more difficult than Wilson anticipated. (ANT-icipated - ha ha! Did you see what I did there?!) This morning I found loads of cereal and some frozen tray meals emptied over the kitchen floor. 

W explained that he needed more cardboard boxes and some thin sheet aluminium for the robot. I asked whether he was intending to clear up the mess and he said he was 'quite busy' at the moment, but if I left everything where it was he expected the ants would take care of it.

Bugsy Malone!

Wilson enjoyed Oliver! so much that yesterday I took him to see Bugsy Malone. 

He loved it, but I had the same problem with him slipping out of his seat and climbing on to the stage to join in! 

After the show he met 'Miss Julia' the choreographer outside the theatre, and got her autograph. 

This makes a pleasant change: an autograph he didn't forge to sell on-line! 

During the drive home he confided in me that for Christmas he might like a pair of Tap Shoes. And a striped Zoot Suit. And a gangster's Fedora with a white band. He says his aim is to look 'Cuddly, but Dangerous!'