As we made our way back to the main arena, we passed a small but unusual car.
Wilson ran over to it, and announced that this was his ‘Dream Car’ – the car he wanted to own when he grew up and was old enough to drive – and Byron agreed.
It had never occurred to me that a Robin Reliant would ever be anyone’s Dream Car – but then, I’d never before seen a Robin Reliant halftrack.
The boys walked round it several times, declaring it to be ‘Way Cool’ and ‘Awesome’.
I could appreciate that it would be good over rough terrain, and that if W were driving he probably wouldn’t be able to exceed any speed limits, but beyond that its appeal rather eluded me.
It must be my age.
Or my love of comfort in a car…
Next on the boys’ list of Things To Do was to win a prize on a Test Your Strength stall.
As it happened, the mallet was too heavy for them even to lift unless they carried it between them, so they appealed to me to demonstrate my virility and win a prize for them.
It will probably come as no surprise to you to learn that this demonstration of muscularity on my part ended ignominiously – the bell did not ring, although I did get seriously out of breath and had to have a bit of a sit down on the grass.
I’m not certain, but I thought I saw a fleeting look of disappointment pass briefly across Wilson’s face.
Anyway, I took the lads off to see some of the traction engines, and promised them something nice in the Refreshments Tent later…
As soon as the boys had consumed their ice-creams, they turned their attention to the Steam Organ by the entrance.
It played wonderful tunes, old and new, and the lads were transfixed.
Wilson went so far as to ask whether we could sell our television and buy a steam organ instead!
I pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to watch any of his favourite TV shows on a steam organ – Spiral… Dr Who… Jeremy Kyle…
W admitted that would be a bit of a problem, and said he might try to build his own steam organ in his ‘Museum’.
I guess I’d better keep a close watch on the kettle in the kitchen…
After we’d parked the car in a field and were making our way towards the entrance, there was a lot of noise, and I hoped the boys wouldn’t be overwhelmed or scared by everything that was going on.
Just inside the showground we were greeted by a mechanical Steam Organ and a Brass Band, each trying to outdo the other, plus a constant background noise of escaping high-pressure steam, and steam whistles and hooters.
Also a wonderful smell of burning coal such as I’d barely experienced since my childhood.
But the boys were completely unfazed by the noise, the crowds and commotion – they ran off to buy themselves ice-creams, saying that they couldn’t possibly enjoy the experience until they’d consumed some sugar and some chilled fat…
I’m sorry about the short notice, but there won’t be any blog today – as the weather is so lovely, I’m taking Wilson and Byron to a local Steam Fair at Tinkers Park!
I’ve never been before, but I’m really looking forward to it, and I think the boys are going to LOVE it!
Wilson returned from the village clutching a bottle of ‘Dry Shampoo’ – a fine white powder indistinguishable from Talcum Powder, except by its price – which he proceeded to empty over his head.
Now he is covered not only with soot, ash and smuts, but also with a fine white powder which seems reluctant to come off.
It has proved resistant to brushing, so Nërp is giving him the once-over with the vacuum cleaner, which W says tickles intolerably.
Byron, having showered, is fluffy, fragrant and cuddly – I’m wondering whether Wilson wouldn’t have found it easier to do the same.
Or, indeed, whether he will eventually have to shower to get the Dry Shampoo out…
Hello there! This is Polly and Billi The Bees and today being the first of the month, this is our Guest Blog!
As you know, we usually talk about life and death issues affecting bees worldwide – pesticides, insecticides, honey recipes and so on – but you know what? For June we’ve decided to lighten up, kick back and just have some fun.
So here’s a nice Bee-Related Poster for you to print out and put on your bedroom wall next to your David Cassidy and Morten Harket posters, or on the notice board where you work.
If you’ve got a computer, you could even use it as wallpaper!
We’re looking forward to being very busy bees during June – we just hope the sun shines like it’s supposed to, so we can make LOADS of lovely Honey!
So, we’ve been The Bees, and we’ll see you again next month.
Until then, BEEEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
Following the fireworks experiments, everyone involved is covered in soot, ash and smuts, and generally in need of a long, hot shower.
Byron is in the bathroom showering – he trotted off good as gold as soon as I suggested it. He’s a lovely lad!
Wilson, on the other hand, ran outside and locked himself inside his Museum, refusing to come out until I lifted the threat of a shower.
After about half an hour, he sent me a message saying that he had been ‘Starved into submission’ and was now ‘willing to negotiate – under duress.’
The compromise on which we have agreed is that he pops into the village to buy some ‘Dry Shampoo’ which he assures me is ‘Just as good as ordinary shampoo – probably even better!’ but avoids him having to get wet.
Nërp is worried about short-circuiting and/or going rusty if he gets wet, so the bees are brushing him down in the kitchen.
Wilson had originally intended to write his big sister’s name, Andrea, in smoke, but said that six letters would use up all his ingredients.
Consequently, he’s going to honour his R&D team by attempting to produce the letters W, B and N – his, Byron’s and Nërp’s initials.
The three letters did indeed appear, but after a minute the garden was completely engulfed in acrid, choking smoke, making the letters impossible to see.
A couple of Wilson’s friends have mentioned that Daylight Fireworks have already been invented.
I mentioned this to W, but he was dismissive, asking, ‘Haven’t they seen my Smokeworks Unique Selling Point? Can their so-called daylight fireworks spell out names and words? I think not!’
But right now, just to err on the side of caution, he’s in the house Googling for a good No-Win, No-Fee Intellectual Property Solicitor.
Uh-oh – I’ve just heard the siren of an approaching fire engine! I’ll pour some sand over the smouldering Smokeworks, then I’m off to hide indoors.
I think I’ll lock all the doors and pretend we’re out…
Wilson, with the help of Byron and Nërp, continues to develop his Patent Pending Daylight Fireworks.
‘I shall call them SmokeWorks®™ New Dad!’ he told me brightly.
As the smoke began to clear, Nërp handed Wilson the MkII Smokework. He placed it carefully in the fire bucket and lit the fuse.
Before long, what looked very like a percentage sign materialised in the air.
I was impressed, and said as much to Wilson, who beamed happily while explaining that the ‘%’ sign is the hardest letter to do. ‘If I can do a “%”’, he told me, ‘I can do anything!’
I hope the MkIII SmokeWork is about deodorising the terrible, choking miasma they give off…
The fuse fizzed for a few moments, then a thin wisp of smoke emerged.
We all held our breath in excited anticipation, and we were not disappointed – within a few moments a surprising quantity of smoke began to gush out of the firework, accompanied by of a terrible, acrid stench of what smelled like burning socks and car tyres.
If the purpose of this test was for Wilson to satisfy himself that he can make a firework that generates smoke, I suppose it should be deemed a success.
I quizzed W about the ingredients of his Daylight Firework – at first he was evasive, claiming that the ingredients were a ‘Trade Secret’ and his ‘Intellectual Property’ – but eventually he confessed that the Active Component is... old socks and shredded car tyres…
Phase One of Wilson’s new project – the invention and development of what he calls ‘Daylight Fireworks’ is apparently a Proof Of Concept; he has to prove to himself that he can make a firework that produces smoke.
The boys went out into the garden with W’s MkI firework and stood it in a bucket of sand. Then Wilson, warily and at arm’s length, applied a match to the blue touch-paper and quickly retired to what he hoped was a safe distance.
The fuse fizzed for a few moments, then a thin wisp of smoke emerged.
We all held our breath in excited anticipation…
Nërp has posed for a Life Portrait on the Museum wall.
‘Spray-paint me like one of your French robots!’ he said, ‘but with bigger muscles.’
Admiring the finished work, Nërp turned to Wilson and said, ‘It’s very good. Thank you. Very good, but… do I really look so stern and unsmiling? I’d always imagined I had a bit more of the debonaire “Johnny 5” look about me…’
Owing to our rapidly-diminishing supply of walls, this will have to be one of Wilson’s last Graffiti Masterworks – unless he starts painting over the old ones…
Wilson assures me that this Royal Wedding Souvenir Tea Towel is ‘Ideal for drying your Royal Wedding Souvenir Mug!’ – but he advises not rubbing too hard in case the picture comes off the mug.
Or, come to that, the tea towel.
Wilson had been undecided about whether to market his Grass Jam as Royal Wedding Souvenir Duchy Original Lucky Grass Jam.
It’s not been a great success due to it tasting terrible – and he’d even considered trying to sell it to cattle farmers for their cows to have on toast for breakfast – but as he pointed out, ‘Committed Royalists will buy any Commemorative Tat as long as it’s marketed properly!’
He explained to me, ‘They probably wouldn’t even open the jar – they’d put it on display in the china cabinet then forget about it until their children turn up clutching it on the “Antiques Road Show” or “Dickinson’s Real Deal”…’
In the end, though, good taste prevailed, and the grass jam remains in Wilson’s Museum Gift Shop.
Speaking for myself, I was pretty much Royal Wedding’d out by the time the Happy Couple had driven round Windsor and returned to the castle.
Wilson, though, is made of sterner stuff – he, Byron and Nërp erected some trestles in front of the house and proceeded to organise a Street Party, loading the table with leftover food from The Happy Ant Diner – some of it still in date!
________
For those of you who may not know what a Street Party is, at times of great national celebration residents set up tables and chairs in their street and lay on a free party for everyone – particularly children.
This may be what Americans refer to as a Block Party – I don't know.
I thought they started after the end of World Was II, but they apparently date back quite a bit earlier than that:
http://www.streetparty.org.uk/history.aspx
Everyone gathered in the living room this morning to watch the Royal Wedding on tv.
Wilson was very surprised to see how young and pretty Meghan Markle looked, as he had been under the impression that Prince Harry was going to marry Angela Merkel, the German Chancellor.
Polly and Billi reminisced happily about their own wedding, but it brought back some painful memories for Uncle Zoltan, jilted at the altar those many years ago…
When the Revivalist Preacher started into his second half hour, going on about fire and brimstone, some of the younger children started shouting, ‘Gimme an Amen, brothers an sisters!’
The Bees tried to shush them, but soon we were all giggling, and even some of the congregation on tv had trouble controlling their mirth and... well, disbelief.
Wilson says he hopes Prince Harry will be as happy with Princess Meghan as he himself would have been with his own fiancée, Ms Caroline Katz… if she had ever replied to his Proposal of Marriage email.
Following the unpleasantness between W and HM Queen Elizabeth II, Wilson isn’t a very enthusiastic Royalist.
However, he will embrace the Royal Family to the extent that it might supplement his pocket money, so just in time for the Royal Wedding he has launched a small range of Sophisticated Wedding Souvenirs, starting with that traditional best-seller, the Souvenir Mug.
He was very surprised by how expensive licenced photographs of Harry and Meghan were, so he has produced his own image of the Happy Couple, which he confidently asserts is ‘just as good’ as a photograph – ‘if not better!’
Antony is included in the photograph, partly to give scale, and partly because he is feeling a bit overshadowed by TT’s recent Showbiz Triumph.
If you’re thinking of buying one of W’s mugs, my Top Tip would be: take great care washing it because, although he used waterproof markers, the picture just might rub off a bit…
The Happy Ant Diner was only ever intended as a pop-up establishment, and this is your last chance to visit.
No food will be served today, due to Wilson and Byron both being exhausted, but Nërp will be happy to meet your every drinking need.
Wilson actually left a note on the door, reading, ‘Biro and me aren’t feeling very Worky today…’ and I think he found the profession of Chef to be much more arduous and tiring than he’d expected.
Even on the first night he confided to me, ‘Phew – I can see now why Gordon Ramsay is so Sweary!’
As TT took to his hand-made Lego stage, Wilson remarked, ‘Mister Juicy would have loved this – I’m so sad he’s not here to see it…’
TT tapped his microphone and began:
Hello, good evening, it’s lovely to see you all here! What do you think of the place, eh? “The Happy Ant” – we were going to open next door to a nuclear power plant; then we’d have called it “Fission Chips.”
Speaking of restaurants, I received some bad news whilst eating a curry at an Indian Restaurant: my naan had slipped into a korma.
Adam and Eve had an ideal marriage. He didn't have to hear about all the men she could have married... and she didn't have to hear about how well his mother cooked.
My girlfriend told me to take a spider out instead of killing it. We went and had some drinks. Cool guy. Wants to be a lawyer...
Dyslexic man walks into a bra...
I went to the corner shop — bought four corners.
A sandwich walks into a bar. The barman says "Sorry we don't serve food in here."
We know the location of the Big Apple, but do we know where the Minneapolis?
They're always telling me to live my dreams – but I don't want to be naked in an exam I haven't revised for...
So, there was a mathematician who had a cattle farm. He had 198 cows, but when he rounded them up he had 200!
As a child, I had an obsession with Posh Spice — it cost my mum a fortune in saffron...
Today a man knocked on my door and asked for a small donation towards the local swimming pool — I gave him a glass of water.
I changed my password to "incorrect" — so whenever I forget what it is the computer will say "Your password is incorrect".
Thank you, thank you, you’ve been a wonderful audience – totally lacking a sense of humour, but in every other way, just wonderful!
If you’ve enjoyed the show, I’ve been Tiny Toy, and this is The Happy Ant Diner. If you haven’t enjoyed it, I’m Jim Davidson and this is The Railway Tavern – I love you all.
But before I go, I’d like to leave you with this thought: Always remember you’re unique... just like everyone else.
Thank you, goodnight!
The Grand Opening Firework Display went well enough – in the sense that nobody caught fire – and now Wilson and Byron are behind the bar welcoming their first customers to the Diner.
Tiny Toy will be performing Stand Up Comedy later, and as they arrive customers are handed a legal document to complete.
All diners will be asked to sign a disclaimer to the effect that, if TT makes them laugh so much they choke on their food, TT, Wilson, Byron and the entire management of The Happy Ant Diner shall not be held responsible in any way, shape, manner or form.
Anyone refusing to sign will be told not to listen to TT’s jokes.
