Wilson has been out and about in the village this morning, putting up posters offering what he describes as 'a substantial reward' for information about Uncle Z, of whom there is still no news.
I disapprove of Wilson's fly-posting activities, but I suppose these are extenuating circumstances.
I've only just seen the posters, and I have to say I don't think the Bees would altogether approve of the wording he's used — it doesn't exactly say 'Reward for information leading to Uncle Zoltan's safe return' which is what they asked for... and personally I think the bullets-holes are just a bit gratuitous.
Still, with any luck the Bees won't see them!
Wherever you are, could you go outside and shout, 'Uncle Zoltan — please phone home as your relatives are concerned for your safety!' just in case he's somewhere near you?
Thanks!
Wilson is in the garden with Dave, inspecting the damage caused by Storm Doris as it swept across Britain yesterday.
Happily, there was no structural damage nor loss of life, but as W is constantly reminding me, 'You can never be too careful where hurricanes are concerned, New Dad — they're treacherous coves!'
He has promised the Bees that once he's completed his inspection he'll design and print some posters offering a 'substantial' reward for information leading to Uncle Zoltan's safe return.
In spite of the furore caused by Uncle Zoltan's sudden and baffling disappearance, Wilson has completed the March page of your Free 2017 Anteater Calendar!
This may be because of his sense of public duty to you, his loyal reader, or it may be that he's secretly relieved by Uncle Z's absence because he's no longer subject to constant criticism by the irascible insect!
Whatever, this month's picture shows Wilson relaxing with a bottle of wine at a pavement café in Jersey.
Or it might be Devon.
Or even the Isle of Wight.
Wherever it was, he says it was lovely and warm and relaxing, and he'd like to be back there very soon!
Polly still hasn't returned from Uncle Zoltan's hive, so after breakfast Billi popped round to see what was occurring.
She has just returned, bearing grave news.
The hive is deserted — they have searched it from top to bottom, and there is no sign of Uncle Zoltan.
The only evidence of recent activity is an empty vodka bottle (which is disturbing in itself, as Uncle Z is a lifelong teetotaller) and a letter discarded on the floor.
Polly picked the letter up and read it: it is from Vogue UK Magazine, declining his application for the post of Editor on the grounds that they do not normally employ vespinae for reasons of Health & Safety.
They even spelled his name wrongly, addressing him as Mr Soltan — what more profound insult could there be?
Wilson quickly sorted out a couple of his W Vermilingua OBE — Consulting Detective cards to give to the bees, in case they wish to avail themselves of his professional investigative services...
Wilson has emailed Sky News to ask how much it would cost for him to sponsor something like the Snow Report.
He still hasn't told me exactly what he intends to sponsor — merely hinted that it would be a 'Totes game-changer.'
I suspect their reply will say it will be enormously expensive — I'd hide my VISA card, but W has memorised all the details...
Polly has popped round to see Uncle Zoltan, just to check he's alright following the letter he received a couple of days ago.
