Following a great deal of thought, deliberation and strong black coffee, Wilson has composed what he hopes is an appropriate response to The Bees' Agony Uncle letter about their missing Uncle Zoltan:
❝Dear Heartbroken Bees
I feel the most important thing to consider here is your Uncle's wishes. If Uncle Zoltan 'disappeared' by running away from home and has not attempted to make contact with you, it's probably because he wants to remain hidden from normal society. Perhaps it would be best just to let him be, and mayhap in the fulness of time, he will return to the bosom of your family.
However, I would be neglecting my duty as an Agony Uncle if I didn't ask you this important question:
Are you CERTAIN you want him back? After all, let's face facts – he was a poisonous and unpleasant little person that you're probably better off without.
If you wish to employ a Consulting Detective to locate Uncle Z, I would be happy to suggest some reputable names; as for engaging a Psychic Medium, I would recommend that only if you are exceptionally gullible.
I hope you find my advice helpful and consoling,
Sincerely yours
Uncle Wilson❞
After he pressed Send, Wilson turned to me and asked, 'Do you think I did right in not saying that he's probably dead?'
W diagnoses a case of Stage Fright;
Perhaps Mr J is scared of footlights!
___________________________
Wilson has put his latest Agony Uncle letter on the 'back burner' in hopes that his subconscious mind will find a balance between what he wants to say with what a more experienced Agony Uncle would advise.
To pass the time while this happens, Wilson was rehearsing his Ventriloquism Act with Mr Juicy, The Talking Orange, when Mr J complained of feeling unwell.
On close examination, he does have a bit of a rash on his forehead.
Wilson, in his capacity as Professional Agony Uncle, has diagnosed this as Stage Fright, and has sent off to an on-line theatrical Supplies Company for a pot of Donald Trump Orange Foundation Creme.
However, having Googled his symptoms, I'm afraid that Mr Juicy's rash looks like the onset of Ringworm – I'll pop down to the Chemists later for some anti-fungal cream...
Wilson is extremely excited about his forthcoming engagement at the Uckfield Empire Theatre!
'Mister Juicy and me, we're going places!' he told me enthusiastically, 'We'll be the new Morecambe and Wise, or maybe the Millennial Chuckle Brothers!'
He was in the dining room rehearsing his act with Mr Juicy and Byron when the postman called.
'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'that will be my Contract!' but in fact it was another Agony Uncle letter bringing a poignant new moral conundrum soliciting Wilson's perceptive yet sympathetic advice.
The letter reads:
❝Dear Uncle Wilson
Several months ago our cherished Uncle Zoltan disappeared without a trace. We all miss him terribly but don't know how to proceed. We have made many public appeals and circulated his photograph, but without success.
Would you advise that we engage a Professional Consulting Detective? Or a Psychic Medium?
Yours very sincerely,
Two Heartbroken Bees❞
W frowned and regarded the missive for a moment, before remarking, 'Uncle Zoltan, eh? I shall have to give this some serious consideration. If I reply too honestly I'm liable to cause grave offence, so I need to respond with a measure of tact. Oh, and feigned compassion!'
Wilson is getting extremely excited
To see his performance, you'll all be invited
_________________________________
Wilson's Theatrical Agent, Antony, has negotiated a Gig for W! He is to perform his Ventriloquism Act at the old Uckfield Empire Theatre!
I thought the Empire had been pulled down years ago, but apparently not, as they've just sent round a copy of their promo poster for his approval — perhaps Fame and Riches have finally come knocking at Wilson's door!
I must say, this is very exciting for everyone – especially, of course, Wilson and Mr Juicy!
Wilson keeps walking round in a stunned daze, repeating, 'I've snagged a Gig, New Dad! Richness and Famousness shall be Mine!'
Mr Juicy, on the other hand, has been rendered temporarily speechless.
I hope success doesn't turn W into a Luvvie...
When we got home from the Fireworks Display it was WELL past the boys' bedtime – but they pleaded to stay up a bit longer as they had 'Important Matters' to discuss and plans to make.
I didn't see any harm in letting them stay up a little longer, so after we'd all had a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows and ants I went to bed and left them to it – whatever 'it' was.
This morning, I found them like this, sleeping soundly (if uncomfortably) on the floor in the kitchen. I covered them with blankets and left them to sleep.
Judging by the notes they've made, I fear they may be planning to open a Motor Museum...
In the past we've sometimes bought our own fireworks and let them off in the back garden, but with Byron staying with us (and me being In Loco Parentis to him) I'm unwilling to accept the extra responsibility of TWO boisterous young anteaters running round in the dark with matches and explosives.
For the same reason I put my foot down about going to Lewes for their bonfire celebrations. They may be the biggest and oldest in the country, but there are always huge and boisterous crowds there, which isn't very anteater-friendly.
In any case there's no way of getting to Lewes: the Police have insisted on the railway stations and car parks all being closed for the occasion in case the crowds grow too massive and get out-of-hand!
Consequently, last night we went to an organised display in the village, which was outstanding.
Everyone is obviously very excited about Firework Night tonight, so to help pass the time until nightfall I took the boys to the excellent Bentley Wildlife and Motor Museum not far from here.
Living as he does in a zoo, Byron wasn't much interested in the animals, but was fascinated by the display of vintage cars.
Wilson liked them too, although I thought he had an introspective and preoccupied air about him... and he kept making notes about the displays.
As we drove home, there was even more whispering and giggling than usual coming from the back of the car – but I expect I'm just being paranoid...
Following a not terribly healthy breakfast of Slushies and Croissants, Wilson proudly introduced Byron to Mr Juicy the Talking Orange.
Byron, never having seen a ventriloquism act before, was spellbound, chatting happily with 'Mr J' for some time.
Once the impromptu show was over and Mr J had been returned to his home in the fruit bowl, Byron asked whether all oranges could talk, or whether this was a special orange that Wilson had raised from a pip and trained...
Well, by the narrowest of margins we have all survived the Day of the Dead Celebrations, although there are still a few lingering hangovers.
The DÃa de los Muertos Cake was a great success, but The Bees have insisted that Wilson, Byron and I are not allowed to help finish it up due to the risk of diabetes.
Apparently Moles, Piglets, Ladybirds, Stuffed Toys and, of course, Bees are all immune to diabetes, so they're eating the cake leftovers while Wilson, Byron and I gaze longingly as the succulent confectionary is consumed...
Although now an ordained minister in the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, Wilson was raised as a Catholic.
Consequently, Catholic practices are deeply ingrained in his psyche, and it was almost second nature for him to construct a small Day Of The Dead Shrine to his Great Great […] Grandfather, Alberto Victor Gutiérrez-López, who grew up to be war hero The Blue Baron in the Great Ant Wars of 1921.
He also found time to bake a delicious-looking Day of the Dead cake – a mouthwatering confection of which even master-patissier extraordinaire Uncle Zoltan would have been proud!
Also there are some Free DÃa de los Muertos Badges for you to cut out and wear – W warns you to be very careful if you stick them to your fur, as he's had some nasty glue-related incidents in the past...
Hello there! We are Polly and Billi the Bees, and this is our Guest Blog!
We usually blog about the terrible way that bees and other (less charming and lovely) insects are being poisoned by humanity in general, and by the huge Chemical Pesticide Companies in particular, but today, Bee Lovers, we have something VERY special to show you: we are COVER STARS!
We, and our young children Johnson Major and Johnson Minor, all have our photo on the cover of Cooking For Insects Magazine!
Our unique recipe for Honey on Toast (first featured here on this Blog on 1 March 2015) is being published, along with a 'lifestyle' feature about our lives as Busy Mummy Bees with a young family!
You can buy a copy of Cooking For Insects at all good insect-related newsagents — and we hope you will!
Anyway, we've been The Bees and we'll see you next month – until then, BEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
In a break with Hallowe'en tradition, Wilson has decided NOT to go out Trick-or-Treating tonight, opting rather to stay at home with his family 'Partying Hard'.
I suspect this means a lot of wild dancing, eating too much and getting totally Blootered on Ant Gin, but it's only once a year.
To avoid interruptions from visiting Trick-or-Treaters, he has installed a Candy Vending Machine outside the front door, with instructions to Insert 50p for Spooky Treat.
Moreover, W has confided to me that for the amount of work involved, Hallowe'en doesn't last long enough, so this year he's going the Full Day Of The Dead – a festivity that continues until 2 November!
He's a bit miffed that tomorrow it's The Bees turn to Blog, but says he'll be back with more not-to-be-missed revelry on Thursday.
Hangover permitting.
I hope I can survive these extended celebrations – I find even Easter is a bit burdensome...
Wilson and Byron have been out all day fixing up their Big Surprise.
Now, as dusk falls, I've just had a phone call from W to go up to Chestnut Ridge, just by the Highlands Roundabout, so they can show it to me.
As I made my way there, I could see a weird glow in the sky – and now I know why!
I have to say, it looks really good, and not half as terrible as I feared – I don't see how anyone could complain about it!
Unless drivers negotiating the roundabout are distracted by it and crash.
Oh, and I suppose whoever pays for the electricity they've tapped into to light the sign might have something to say about it...
This consisted of me driving the boys out to a distant shopping mall where they gazed longingly at animatronic skeletons they couldn't afford, then on to Tesco in the Village, where the staff had organised a Charity Lucky Dip.
Instead of the more customary sawdust, it was necessary to plunge one's paw up to the elbow into a bucket of vile slime to locate a plastic spider hiding at the bottom of the bucket – successful retrieval of which entitled one to a Mystery Hallowe'en Prize.
Afterwards Byron trotted off to the loo to wash his paws, but Wilson refused to accompany him.
Given his loathing of soap and water, I dread to think how long his arms will be covered in the ghastly gloop...
Rather more quickly than I feared, a final choice of pumpkins has finally been made – one for Wilson and one for Byron – so now we're heading home to carve them.
Tomorrow I shall be on Taxi Duty while the boys attend to 'Last-minute Hallowe'en shopping' then on Monday I shall be off-duty while W and B arrange their 'Big Surprise for the Whole Village'.
I don't like surprises — they leave me feeling unprepared and anxious.
Particularly I don't like the kind of surprises in which Wilson specialises, which often culminate in a visit from the police.
Unsurprisingly, then, I fear the worst...
This year, rather than going to Tesco or Waitrose for his pumpkins Wilson has decided to 'go organic' and is visiting what he calls a 'Free Range Pumpkin Ranch' so he can see the pumpkins living in their natural environment and discuss with them whether they're up for being redeveloped into lanterns and soup.
I've driven the two lads out to a local farm, and they're carefully and systematically examining each pumpkin, establishing its family circumstances and administering a brief 'Psych Eval' to ensure that they know what they're agreeing to.
While this is both admirable and humane, it could take days — Hallowe'en might have been and gone before they reach a decision!
In spite of Wilson's extremely heavy Hallowe'en Schedule, he has made time to bring you next month's FREE CALENDAR PAGE: NOVEMBER 2017!
Also, a Free Happy Halloween Badge depicting a very scary spider.
In return, he has asked me to ask you whether it's worthwhile producing a Free 2018 Calendar – do you use you your Anteater Calendar and send it to your friends, or would you be as happy not to have a calendar next year?
Please comment below and I'll pass on all your feedback to Wilson.
When these friends are reunited
Everyone gets overexcited!
_____________________
Wilson took Byron into the dining room where the whole family (with the exception of the sTone Brothers) was busy making Hallowe'en Paper Lanterns.
There was great excitement as W reintroduced B to everyone – so much excitement that Johnson Major accidentally glued one of his feet to the table.
(Don't worry about Tiny Toy – he has apparently been overcome by glue fumes, but Polly says that was accidental rather than the beginnings of a career in glue-sniffing.)
Wilson then outlined his plans for Hallowe'en 2017:
• Friday and Saturday he and Byron will be going out to choose pumpkins;
• Sunday they'll be doing some last-minute Hallowe'en Shopping, and;
• Monday they'll both be working on something 'a bit special' which will 'surprise the whole Village'.
I must admit my heart sank a little at the thought of something Surprising the Whole Village – I hope it surprises it in a good way, rather than in a way that involves a visit from the Police...
We go to collect young Wilson's brother,
They high-five as they greet each other.
________________________
Byron has arrived by bus, feeling very grown-up having travelled alone on public transport for the first time.
They fist-bumped (well, paw-bumped, really) each other, then began some complicated paw-slapping routine while they both chanted:
Wilson! Wilson, Bo-bil-son
Bo-na-na fanna, fo-fil-son
Fee fi mo-mil-son, Wilson!
Biro! Biro, Bo-bir-ro,
Bo-na-na fanna
Fee fi mo-mir-ro, Biro!
Glancing up at the advert on the side of the bus, Byron asked whether he has come to star in Antsy Malone – The Musical.
Wilson frowned, having completely forgotten about that project, and told Byron, or 'Biro' as he now calls him, about the Hallowe'en Celebrations he's got planned.
There was much excited whispering during the short drive back to the house.
Wilson has just phoned the zoo to ask his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, whether Byron can come to visit for Hallowe'en.
This took a lot longer than W expected, and involved quite a lot of eye-rolling on his part, because Mrs V launched into a guilt trip along the lines of:
'Are you alright? Really? I was afraid you'd at least broken your claw so you couldn't dial the phone to call your poor mother... Once or twice I thought I'd gone deaf, sitting here constantly listening to the phone not ringing...'
Anyway, eventually W steered the conversation back to its original purpose, and Byron will be arriving tomorrow.
Now feeling pretty grown-up, Byron told W that rather than having us collect him, he'll make his own way here on the bus – if we could just be at the bus station in the village to meet him.
