With the help of all the children, Wilson is decorating the Xmas Tree.
If you look closely, you might just make out the special Baubles W is using: he has told me that he'll will be giving away some of those — and some other 'special' decorations — tomorrow.
Don't miss out on getting them as they will add 'Magic, beauty and a certain Je Ne Sais Quoi to your tree!'
I must stress those are W's words, not mine, so I hope you won't be disappointed.
Wilson is hoping that, what with his new furstyle, he might 'get off' with one of the bridesmaids — he say that it's a 'Well-known wedding tradition.'
I really must have a word with him about Appropriate and Decorous Behaviour at Ms Julia's wedding on Monday...
Yesterday Wilson made a foray into the loft to find the Xmas Decorations.
He doesn't like it up there as it's dark, cobwebby and a tiny bit spooky, but he bravely persisted until the living room floor was ankle deep in tinsel, fairy lights and glass baubles.
As Xmas draws ever nearer, Wilson would like to wish all his readers and listeners a...
Noël très heureux
Zeer Gelukkige Kerstmis
Sehr glückliches Weihnachten
Πολύ ευτυχή Χριστούγεννα
Natale molto felice
非常に楽しいクリスマス
Natal muito feliz
Очень счастливое Кристмас
Navidad muy feliz
... which he REALLY HOPES means "Very Happy Xmas" rather than something rude! There is a measure of doubt because Uncle Zoltan provided the translations. 😕
This morning I took Wilson to Ali's Fantastic Barber Shop in the High Street for a trim before the wedding.
He was very impressed by the cool wallpaper, but then he caught sight of the wash basins and I had to reassure him that having his fur washed was optional.
While we waited for W's turn, I tried to interest him in starting up a Newspaper of some kind to occupy him now his Radio Station has closed.
He dismissed this, saying that Print Media Are Dead and quoting Marshall McLuhan to me:
'We shape our tools and afterwards our tools shape us,' he intoned sternly, and 'All media exist to invest our lives with artificial perceptions and arbitrary values.'
I think this might be a bit too deep for me, but I do get the point — he's not going to start a newspaper.
Better cancel that John Bull Printing Set I'd ordered for him for Xmas.
Whatever, once his fur had been trimmed he couldn't take his eyes off his reflection, saying that his new 'do' made him look 'Dangerous, but cuddly!' which is apparently 'Wicked!'
Wilson has decided, with great sadness, that he will have to close Wonderful Radio W.
He says it was much more all-consuming than he'd expected, and it didn't leave him any time to pursue his other interests. Or to sleep. Moreover, with Ms Julia's Wedding now only eight days away, Radio W is simply no longer viable.
It's a shame, as he's put a lot of work into Radio W — but I shall be happy to get the dining room back in time for Xmas!
He is planning a final broadcast, called His Final Hour which rather puts me in mind of the very sad day when Pirate Station Radio London finally ceased transmission following the Marine, &c., Broadcasting (Offences) Act 1967 ...
At present, Polly and Billi are Guest DJ-ing, while Wilson sits in the living room contemplating his lost media empire and Antony attempts to console him.
That's a big ask for a small stuffed toy, but he IS Wilson's dearest friend and closest confidant so he just might be up to the task...
To ease the pain for his loyal listeners, W has told me that he will soon be sending out some special Xmas Gifts!
_____
Please don't say anything to Wilson, but I'm taking him into the village tomorrow to have his fur trimmed in time for the wedding — that should take his mind off his troubles, as he's never been to a barbers before!
Wilson mentioned to me that running a 24/7 Live Radio Station takes up a lot more of his time than he'd expected, and that he may have to start recording programmes in advance, or even letting the older children run the station sometimes to give him a break.
I sympathised, then reminded him that it's only nine days until Ms Julia's wedding... and he went into Panic Mode. I hope he's got all his Best Man duties under control!
Not a word to Wilson, but I've sent Dave the Pig into the Studio on a Secret Mission: to covertly retrieve the New Scientist Metaphysics Special Edition and bring it to me, so I can hide it from W.
I don't like doing this, but it's the only way I can think of to avert another of Wilson's Existential Crises...
Wilson has started advertising his Speech Writing service Wedding Etc Speeches R Us on Radio W.
I must say, they sound brilliant — though he hasn't read out any actual samples, just described how witty, funny and generally entertaining the speeches are once you've bought one. Judging by how long he took writing his Best Man speech, I'd guess they're pretty brief, too!
Today marks the debut of his new religious slot on Radio W: The Hour Of Prayer — a Pastafarian programme of Prayers and Pasta. According to his American friends, religious shows can generate a LOT of income!
Wilson just sits in front of the microphone, wearing his official Pastafarian Hat of Office (a colander), and talks to his listeners about the Flying Spaghetti Monster. His monologues consist almost exclusively of him reading out pasta-with-ants recipes, and occasionally declaiming (in a revivalist-preacher sort of voice) 'I have been touched by his Noodly Appendage!'
I'd be surprised if he can really keep this up for a whole hour...
In other news, today's Chase Question is:
'Does God Exist?
A: Yes;
B: No;
C: It depends what you mean by "exist".'
I'm not sure this is a suitable question for a popular afternoon quiz show, and religion can be quite a contentious issue — but what do I know?
Wilson has decided that Wonderful Radio W is an ideal place to try out his multiple-choice questions before he submits them to The Chase — 'ideal' because his audience is probably a lot brighter than I am.
He's going to read out one question every day, and listeners can phone in with the answers.
Today's question is: 'How do you know you exist?
A: It's obvious — you think, therefore you are. What a stupid question;
B: You don't exist, you are in simulation — a computer game, probably a lot like 'Lemmings';
C: You can probably never know.
I think I know how far he's got in the New Scientist 'Metaphysics Special Edition' — I hope these deep questions don't trouble him so much that they spoil his Xmas.
On the plus side, though, there's been no sign of him recording his cover version of Slade's Happy Xmas Everybody...
During last night's 9.30 'Late, Late, LATE' show Wilson re-decorated his studio, with fresh posters and his brand new 'Station Ident.'
Then, while leaving a Peter Dawson LP playing he ran out to his 'Museum' and retrieved the Beatles and Adam Ant Tribute CDs he'd recorded a couple of years ago; these, he explained, are destined for Extra-Heavy Rotation.
He says that between playing records in the Graveyard Shift he has written his Best Man's Speech for Ms Julia's wedding, and it was much easier than he'd expected.
So easy, in fact, that he's starting a speech-writing service for Best Men, Bride's Fathers, Football Managers etc. Not Secretaries of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs of the United Kingdom, though — he doesn't want to get into any trouble and he's seen where an ill-considered word can lead...
Following a good night's sleep, Wilson is back at the mic and fresher than ever.
He confided to me that while he was sleeping, the Flying Spaghetti Monster spoke to him in a dream, telling him to record a cover version of Slade's Merry Xmas Everybody.
I will admit my heart sank a little bit at the prospect of the constant screech of, 'It's Chriiiiiiiiisss Massssss' — but the FSM assured W that the Performing Rights Society payments would bestow a comfortable future upon him, just as it had upon Mr N Holder.
Allegedly.
Antony has at last reappeared — he says he couldn't find Wilson's Good Ideas Notebook so he walked all the way into the village to buy him a new one at the Post Office.
That is devotion!
Wilson is exhausted what with running Radio W non-stop for over a week then putting up the Xmas Lights yesterday, and last night — during the 9pm 'Late, Late Show' — he dozed off at the mic.
I carried him gently to the Tumble Dryer to catch up on his sleep.
He roused himself briefly to tell me that the answer to yesterday's Chase question is 'The M26 is the shortest, at only 15.9km,' then he relapsed into a deep, deep sleep.
I don't think he'll be in any fit state to set Chase questions or play records until tomorrow at the earliest...
The start of December is the time when Wilson puts up our outdoor Xmas lights.
Rather against his better judgement, he has left The Bees and Uncle Zoltan running the Afternoon Show on Wonderful Radio W, having given strict instructions to Uncle Z NOT to play ANY Hungarian folk music.
From the top of the ladder, apropos nothing at all, Wilson suddenly shouted down to ask another of his potential Chase questions:
'New Dad — which of these Motorways is the shortest?
A: M25
B: M26
C: M27'
Trying to sound confident, I called back to him, 'C — the M27!'
On hearing this W smirked and almost dropped his screwdriver, so I imagine I've got this one wrong too. It was only a shot in the dark, as they all seem infinitely long when you're stuck in traffic on them.
As soon as the lights were to W's satisfaction (and you might be surprised by how long that took to achieve) we went indoors to warm up with a mince pie and a mug of hot chocolate with brandy and marshmallows.
Oh, and ants. Obviously.
Hello — we are Polly and Billi the Bees, and this is our Guest Blog!
Yesterday we popped up to IKEA for a few things to brighten up our bedroom. Once we'd chosen some furniture we entered the Market Place area... and we made quite a few impulse purchases!
We bought a couple of glass jars for storing our honey, but then we couldn't resist a can of Swedish Cider for Wilson and some Daim Bars for the children.
What do you think of us in our Viking Warrior and Swedish Maiden headbands? The nice people at IKEA just gave them to us!
We also brought back some free IKEA pencils and tape measures for Wilson because, being a boy, he likes that sort of thing.
If you're stuck for an Xmas present for a loved one (or even someone you don't love but just quite like) remember that Honey and Royal Jelly both make a very welcome gift, and every jar sold benefits bees. 😀🎄
Anyway, we won't be blogging again this year, so we'd like to wish you all a Very Happy Xmas!
We'll see you again in January — until then, BEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
The Mayor's secretary has replied to Wilson, thanking him for his offer but explaining they usually use Time Switches to turn the Xmas lights on and off.
Wilson took this news pretty well, considering he'd set his heart on being the Guest Celebrity Uckfield Xmas Lights Turner-On.
He shrugged philosophically and announced that he's had another brilliant and potentially lucrative idea. He intends to develop this while the records are playing on Radio W — time which, he says, would otherwise be wasted.
He sent the Studio Runner (Antony) out for his 'Good Ideas' notebook and a pencil, and Assistant Studio Runner (Tiny Toy) for refreshments.
TT returned with a plate of Empire Biscuits — Wilson had never heard of these before, but after one bite declared them to be 'The Best — almost better than ants!'
Antony has not yet reappeared...
___________
Tomorrow, being the first of the month, it is The Bees turn to blog.
Okay, Radio V has been rebranded. Again. It's now RADIO W.
The bees are in the
studio singing a jingle, overseen by Studio Manager Uncle Z — Wilson was
too scared of being stung not to give him a good job.
While Polly and Billi are singing quite a catchy (if rather Buzzy) background tune, Wilson accompanies them on kazoo and spoons.
Suddenly he breaks
off to intone the station message in a voice as close as he can get to
Morgan Freeman's (which honestly isn't very close):
'🎶🎶 You'll Get Double the Music and Double the Fun with Radio Dubbleyou! 🎶🎶'
In between records he's advertising his range of ODDSIES! socks, and his various Card Games, all of which will allegedly make first-class Xmas Presents.
I have been allowed (albeit a bit grudgingly — the sTone Brothers take their Security duties VERY seriously) into the Radio Vermilingua Studio for the launch party.
Although it's apparently no longer called that — it's now Radio V, because it's easier to say and remember, and uses fewer characters when people Tweet about it.
So far, he's played a lot of Bob Dylan, a lot of Leonard Cohen and his own record, (Don't Make Me Be) This Machine [available on YouTube, if you haven't seen his music video] is on heavy rotation — ie it's every third record he plays.
At the very least, this should provide some competition for Uckfield FM!
We usually keep the car radio tuned to BBC Radio 2 or BBC Six Music, both of which are mercifully free from advertising, but lately W has been listening to Radio-X, a commercial station.
I fear this may have given him an idea to start his own radio station — possibly so he can put his favourite songs on heavy rotation and also advertise his products and services free-of-charge.
I have no idea how he intends to broadcast his station, nor what his target demographic could conceivably be — probably other anteaters who like Peter Dawson records...
While I'm not 100% certain about the Radio Station, the clues are there — the sTone Brothers standing security, the red light, the sign on the door, the queue of auditionees...
And I've a nasty feeling W has been spray-stencilling on the wall...
What with Ms Julia's wedding being so imminent, Wilson insisted on visiting the Wedding Shop in the village to buy some special wedding shoes.
Since all he will be wearing for the occasion will be wedding shoes and a bow tie, the shoes are pretty important!
Having been shown by an assistant to the 'wedding shoes' display, he whispered to me that he was quite surprised by their appearance... but once he'd tried them on he declared them to be 'Well comfy!'
As we drove back through the village, we saw some workmen putting up the Xmas Lights, so it shouldn't be long before W hears from the Mayor's Office about his offer to switch them on.
This morning, Wilson had another question for me.
'Which of these well-known species of ants is the largest?' he asked.
A: Big Headed Ant
B: Caribbean Crazy Ant
C: Bullet Ant
I had no idea of the correct answer, but the Big Headed Ant sounded quite big, so I replied, 'A — the Big Headed Ant!'
W shook his head in a patronising way, observing, 'You really don't have any idea about ants, do you, New Dad? The Big Headed ant's only about 7mm long, whereas the Bullet Ant can be up to 30mm!'
'But you said "C" was always the joke answer!' I protested.
'I think you'll find I said "almost always",' he replied.
'Next question,' he continued, 'when are we going on our holiday to Weston Super Market?'
I think I know the answer to this one, so I said 'Xmas won't be long, and Ms Julia's Wedding is barely four weeks away — I don't think there's time to fit in a holiday this year...'
Wilson looked stricken and, clapping his paw to his head repeated, 'Only FOUR WEEKS? But I have so much yet to do before the wedding!'
Perhaps formulating Quiz Questions can go on the back burner for a little while now — I hope so, because they're making me feel pretty ignorant...
'Okay, New Dad,' Wilson repeated, 'To go through with seven thousand pounds, which of these books did William Golding famously write?
'A: Lord Of The Ants,
'B: Lord Of The Flies, or
'C: Lord Of The Spiders?'
After a few moments he said urgently, 'Need an answer!' and in my panic, in spite of knowing the correct answer, I shouted, 'C!'
'You've chosen "C" — Gotta be, innit? All day long! Do you know this, or was it a guess?
I shook my head.
'Let's see. Is William Golding famous for writing "Lord Of The Spiders"? — NO! The correct answer is "B". Elementary error there, New Dad: "C" is almost always the joke answer.'
Actually though, that wasn't such a bad question for The Chase — perhaps Wilson is on to something here...
_________
Wilson will pose another question on Wednesday...
As Hurricane Angus swept across Southern England, Wilson emerged from his bedroom/study [AKA the tumbledryer] to check for storm damage.
In the garden he surveyed a scene of what he later described as 'utter devastation' and gravely intoned, 'This looks like an insurance job, for certain!'
After lunch, he sat with me in the living room to try out some of his 'Chase' questions on me for 'difficultness' before submitting them to The Chase.
'Okay, New Dad, you've got to imagine I'm Mr Bradley Walsh!' He squinted with one eye to simulate poor Bradley's conjunctivitis, and asked, 'To go out with seven thousand pounds, which of these books is William Golding famous for writing?
'A: Lord Of The Ants,
'B: Lord Of The Flies, or
'C: Lord Of The Spiders?'
To be continued...
