Looking over the Accounts for the Wild Animal Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience, Wilson observed that while attendance figures were a little disappointing, takings were higher than he'd expected.
Detailed analysis of the accounts reveals that while I was the only visitor, I did have a go on everything... although it did not escape W's notice that I appeared not to have paid for the Pet-a-Wild-Animal Experience, nor to Meet a Tibetan Flying Pig.
However, the Bottom Line of £34 both he and Byron found entirely satisfactory.
I pointed out that the accounts didn't show any expenses — such as hiring the weighing machine, for example — but W explained that those are 'Below The Line' costs, and as such are never shown on accounts.
Uncle Zoltan nodded knowledgeably at this, adding that since Wilson had used my VISA card to pay for everything, there was no need to take them into consideration at all...
While the children gorged themselves on the home-made cake Uncle Zoltan had baked for them, Wilson and Byron watched with bated breath while Uncle Z typed out the Accounts for the Uckfield Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
Uncle Z claimed some familiarity with dual-entry bookkeeping, and I have to admit that, with his antique typewriter and Victorian dress he looked every bit the part. Like Scrooge from A Christmas Carol...
Occasionally the anticipation would get too much for one of the anteaters, and they'd burst out, 'Are we rich yet?'
Uncle Z would groan theatrically, remove the sheet of paper from his typewriter and shout, 'Now you've made me lose count! I shall have to start all over again!' screw the paper into a ball and toss it onto the floor...
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Sorry this post is a bit late — the posting schedule has been disturbed, but you won't miss any news if you're on the Mailing List, a member of the Appreciation Society or if you keep checking the Blog site: https://antwars2.blogspot.co.uk/
The answer to Dave's question, 'What's your name?' turned out to be unexpectedly complex.
At first he said his name was 'Mole', but Wilson couldn't believe that he was just called Mole the Mole and pressed him for more details.
'It's like my New Dad being called Human the Human!' he complained, 'Or me being called Anteater the Anteater! And think of the confusion if both bees were called Bee the Bee!'
However, it seems that moles lead such solitary lives that they rarely, if ever, need a name (there being no-one else to use it) so even the concept of a name was alien to him.
Eventually W conceded that his name henceforward would be Mole, and took him to one side to fill in a Special Dietary Requirements questionnaire.
It seems this was to establish whether moles ate ants, as W didn't want there to be any competition for food. Antony sat very close to Mole and silently mouthed or mimed the 'correct' answers to Wilson's questions.
Once he had evidence that Mole wouldn't be vying with him over the juiciest ants, Wilson invited him to spend the winter with us in the garden.
'You can live with the sTone Brothers,' he said. 'I'll introduce you!'
Just before Wilson fled to safety in his Asteroid Shelter, a small, dirt-encrusted furry head emerged from the recently-appeared pile of earth.
Antony unhelpfully called out, 'Oooh look — it's a man-eating Sandworm, from Dune! In the movie they were WAY bigger than that — this one's probably a baby!'
The creature looked up and said, 'Hi Antony!' and Antony waved back.
'You two know each other?' Wilson asked, incredulously.
'Sure,' Antony replied, 'This is the mole you kept missing last year!'
In a timid voice, Dave said, 'Hello, my name is Dave; Dave Beanie-Ty. What's your name?'
Wilson immediately turned to me, his paw extended, and announced, 'Meet the Wild Mole Experience — £5 please, New Dad!'
With ants running all over my face I found it difficult to muster the necessary dignity to confront Wilson, but it was time.
'Wilson,' I began, 'Young Dave here — Dave the Pig — says you told him he was adopted. He's very upset. What's going on?'
'W sighed wearily and replied, 'I didn't say he was "adopted". Not exactly. What I actually said was that if anyone asked, he should say he was a Tibetan Flying Pig — just while the Wildlife Petting Zoo is open!'
Dave considered this in silence.
For some reason, Wilson seemed to be wobbling about and — impossible though this sounds — growing taller before my eyes.
Glancing at his feet I noticed the ground beneath him was moving; writhing, almost.
'Don't panic! Don't panic!' he shouted (sounding very like Cpl Jones in Dads' Army). 'We're having an earthquake! Everyone go indoors and hide under the table!'
Without warning, Antony announced, 'Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake that we realise something was actually strange.' Everyone stared at him in confusion.
He blushed and explained, 'It's a quote from "Inception" — we're probably all just dreaming that this is happening...'
Determined to have a word with Wilson about Dave the 'Tibetan Flying Pig', I strode over to the Anteater Food kiosk (Dave following at my heel) to confront him.
W pre-empted me with a cheery, 'Hello, New Dad — this is going well, isn't it? I expect you've come for a bag of Anteater Food, to feed the anteaters, yes?'
Caught off-guard, I handed over £2.00. Wilson replied, 'Thank you very much!' opened a bag of ants and proceeded to eat them.
'Mmmmm...' he said, 'These are delicious!'
Intrigued by the 'Eat Like An Anteater' Experience sign, I asked him about it.
He handed me a fresh bag of ants, instructing me, 'Don't use your hands — just eat them with your tongue! I'll finish up your leftovers, if you can't manage them all.'
After a moment I noticed his paw was extended, waiting for another £2.00...
Byron had barely recovered from his Climbing Accident when he reappeared at the Guess My Weight stall, disguised as a... Rabbit? Donkey? It's hard to be sure.
The point of this stall (if there IS a point) is to guess the weight of the Wild Animal at a cost of £5 — if I guess correctly, I get my £5 back.
I handed over my £5. I guessed Byron's weight. I was not correct. I was not surprised.
I asked Byron what the row of sandbags was for — was he expecting the garden to flood? He told me they were just in case people got too good at guessing his weight.
At this point, I noticed that one of the sandbags was already resting on the platform of the weighing machine, concealed behind B's back legs...
Dave the Pig is following me around morosely, so I will definitely have a word with Wilson about Working Conditions in his Wildlife Park, and find out exactly what he said to Dave that has so upset him.
In fact, I shall find Wilson now and confront him!
Next up on the list of Must-See Attractions was a climbing demonstration which would apparently leave me 'Breathless with excitement and wonder' as I watch this 'Lithe and acrobatic animal climb high into the leafy forest canopy above in search of food.'
The lithe and acrobatic animal turned out to be Byron. Again. It occurs to me that Byron appears to be doing a lot of work, while Wilson takes the ticket money and is paid to eat ants...
Anyway, I handed him a £5 note and he clambered enthusiastically (though a little uncertainly) into the lower reaches of a small tree.
By the time he drew level with my head, he stopped, and remarked that at the Zoo he did all his climbing on a Jungle Gym, and trees were quite a bit trickier.
I reassured him that he was doing very well — certainly much better than I could have managed — but he eventually confessed that he was stuck, and asked me to help him down.
Reaching towards him he put his arms round my neck and I lifted him back to Terra Firma.
'There's no need to mention this to Wilson, is there?' he asked.
I shook my head, saying, 'Absolutely not — no need at all!'
Moving on, I noticed Dave the Pig sitting glumly on the patio wearing, inexplicably, a pair of wings.
'Hi Dave!' I greeted him, 'How's tricks?'
He sighed and explained that Wilson had told him he was a rare, Tibetan Flying Pig — an endangered species, and probably the last of his kind.
Dave had been blissfuly unaware of this, always assuming he came from a great lineage: his Mum, after all, had been from the House of Beanie, while his Dad had been of Clan Ty.
Now, though, it seemed that he must have been adopted, his brief life to date rendered a lie...
I tried to cheer him up, saying that Wilson was obviously mistaken and I'd have a word with him to sort things out...
Moving along into the park proper, the first thing I encountered was a 'wild animal pen' containing what, if I hadn't known better, I would have said was Byron wearing a pair of furry Xmas 'reindeer antlers'.
He waved shyly to me and whispered, 'Hello Mr Wilson's New Dad!'
'Hello!' I replied, 'Are you a... Moose? Or a Reindeer?'
Byron nodded enthusiastically.
'Are you safe to pet?' I continued, and he nodded again.
I reached out to tickle him behind his ear, but his antlers wobbled alarmingly and almost fell off.
Steadying them with his paw, he explained, 'Oh, don't worry — I'm getting ready to shed my antlers ready for next Spring!'
His antlers, although safely restored to his head, began to flash in time to a tinny rendition of 'Jingle Bells'.
'I'm supposed to ask you for £5, but I don't really like to,' he continued, ''Cos although you probably haven't noticed I'm not a REAL reindeer!'
He blushed and waved goodbye, as I moved on the the next attraction...
At last, the opening day of Wilson and Byron's Wildlife Petting Farm and Anteater Experience is here!
After breakfast I made my way into the garden and presented myself at the Ticket Booth.
Wilson greeted me with polite efficiency: 'Good morning, sir, and welcome to the Uckfield Wildlife Petting Farm and Anteater Experience — one adult ticket?' I nodded and proffered a fiver. 'That will be £5. Thank you. Enjoy your day!'
I am the first paying visitor, and as such am entitled to a free tomato. W handed this to me, rather grudgingly, I thought.
Taking my tomato I entered what used to be my back garden but now more resembles a Fairground Midway with booths, stalls and enclosures all around, in search of adventure and fun.
And wild animals to pet...
Wilson has been out with Byron and the Bees erecting signs about Road Closures and Parking Charges for the duration of his Wildlife Petting Park and Anteater Experience event.
When they returned, he explained to me that I would have to move our car, so as not to obstruct visitors to his attraction.
Accordingly, I drove it round the corner and parked at the side of the road. As I stepped out and prepared to walk home I was confronted by Polly and Billi, wearing tiny Parking Attendants' hats, demanding £5.
I offered Billie a £10 note, which she accepted, adding that she 'Didn't do change' on Wilson's instructions.
Before I could protest, they had gone.
I fear this is but a foretaste of how things will work at the Petting Zoo...
Hello, we are The Bees, Polly and Billi, and this is our Guest Blog!
Because the first of the month falls on Saturday, when Wilson will be opening his famous so-called Wildlife Park, we have kindly agreed to do our Guest Blog early. Just this once. On account of it being slightly our fault that his Tomato Farm died.
Let no-one say bees are not flexible.
Also kind. Obviously.
Although we did draw the line when Wilson asked us to appear in his Wildlife Zoo pretending to be Wild Hornets, and stinging people so he could sell them his over-priced Sting Balm. We do have standards, you know.
How we ARE helping is by collecting parking money from his visitors. Wilson says we look a bit like Parking Wardens already, what with being yellow-and-black, but we think the Parking Warden Hats are a tiny bit demeaning.
We preferred the Nurses Uniforms we wore before, but you can't collect parking money in a nurse's uniform — it would get the NHS a bad name!
Wilson's New Dad has got a cold — this means he's a bit grumpy most of the time, but his nose has turned red which is quite funny! However, we try not to laugh because, well... Caring Profession. Nurses, not Parking Wardens.
We've given him some Royal Jelly, so he should soon be right as rain. Whatever that means.
Anyway, we've been the bees and we'll see you next month. Until then, BEEEEEEE GOOD!
I was just driving into the village this morning to pick up some cakes from the bakery, when I came across this... this outrage!
Flyposting is not generally a problem in Uckfield, and I don't intend that it should become one, so I shall be having a stern word with Wilson and Byron when I get home.
If your premises have been affected by this act of vandalism, I can only apologise.
I assure you that two contrite anteaters will be round later with a bucket of soapy water, a scraper and an apology!
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Incidentally, because the Wildlife Petting Park and Anteater Experience will be opening on Saturday, which happens to be the 1st of the month, The Bees have kindly agreed to do their Guest Blog on Wednesday.
Wilson and Byron came back tired but happy, having put up a load of posters around the neighbourhood.
They both assured me that they'd been very careful not to damage anything and had behaved responsibly.
Later I took a stroll around the neighbouring streets, and they seem to have done a good job; obviously I'll make sure they take the posters down once the event is finished.
With less than a week to go, even I'm feeling a bit excited now!
Wilson received a letter today from his friend Dennis on the Isle of Wight, declining his invitation to the Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
W's disappointment was tempered by his excitement at hearing from Dennis again, and the fact that he appears to have his own electric typewriter for his correspondence — this seems to Wilson to be impossibly retro and grand!
He soon put his disappointment behind him, and he's gone out with Byron to put up some of his posters round the village.
He also asked me to send you a copy of the poster in case you'd like to print it out and stick it up around YOUR village — although for the life of me, I can't imagine why you would!
With the exception of the sTone Brothers, I think everyone is in the dining room 'helping' Wilson and Byron design the poster for the imminent Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
I've learned in the past that, when it comes to Graphic Design, everyone thinks they're an expert!
Uncle Zoltan is especially generous with his counsel, having once had a nest in a print shop — although by his own admission, that was in the days of hot metal printing!
Wilson is doing very well in holding his tongue in the face of so much unasked-for advice.
This may be because he's relying on everyone to assist in the running of the Petting Zoo event, so he can't afford to hurt anyone's feelings with a harsh word...
Wilson has written to Dennis, the Giant Anteater he met on the Isle of Wight, inviting him over to stay for the duration of Uckfield Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
He says that Dennis could sleep in the tumble dryer, as there's really not room for three in the washing machine, and in any case an anteater of Dennis' eminence should never be expected to share.
Once he'd posted the letter he asked me into the garden so he could show Byron how to work the Polaroid camera on the Photo Opportunity Board.
To encourage me to smile, Tiny Toy stood in front of the board telling me jokes, such as, 'Um, what's made of brass and sounds like Tom Jones? A Trumpet! Oh, no... wait a minute — a Trombone!'
It may have been only a test shoot, but I was still expected to pay the full price! The photo isn't too bad, I suppose; only half my head is cut off.
Wilson explained this was just a 'teething problem' until Byron learned to stop the camera going off unexpectedly.
But he didn't offer me a refund.
I don't know how much sleep either of the boys got last night — they went to bed (in the washing machine — the tumble dryer isn't really large enough to accommodate two) quite early but I could hear them whispering and giggling for most of the night as they formulated plans for the Uckfield Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
To make matters worse, every hour or so Wilson would pop up to my room, stick his nose right in my ear and whisper loudly, 'New Dad! Are you awake?'
Once I'd been shocked into full wakefulness, he'd ask, 'Did I wake you? Well never mind, because we've just thought of...' and he'd tell me the newest money-making attraction for the Petting Zoo he and Byron had just thought up.
No sooner had I fallen back into a troubled sleep he'd be back, to regale me with another idea.
This was made even more difficult as, once it had passed midnight, all his ideas were expressed in Piratese, what with it being International Talk Like a Pirate Day...
Last night Wilson outlined his 'Primo New Idea' which is to supersede his failed Tomato Farm: The Uckfield Wildlife Petting Zoo and Anteater Experience.
This will apparently involve opening the garden to the public, who will be exposed to a number of Wild Animals and other money-relieving attractions.
I voiced some serious concerns about having wild animals in the garden, but W dismissed them out of hand saying that I was altogether too timorous where his money-making schemes were concerned.
Anyway, he and Byron are in the garden today — Byron is posing while Wilson paints his full-length portrait on a big piece of board.
I don't really know what it's for, but he's making a pretty good job of it, and it's keeping them both out of mischief, so really, apart from a bit of paint on the grass, what's the harm?
What's the worst that could happen?
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Wilson has asked me to remind you all that tomorrow is International Talk Like a Pirate Day — you might want to keep your Pirate Translation App handy!
