A mysterious and exciting letter arrives!

At teatime yesterday I asked Wilson, 'Stands the Church Clock at Ten to Three? And is there Honey Still for Tea?'

Err, no. There wasn't. Apparently Polly had had a bad day and there wasn't enough honey to go round. In fact, there wasn't any honey at all. Wilson has confessed that he is 'Mystified.'

But he is not discouraged: he answered the door this morning and the postman handed him a large 'To Be Signed For' envelope. He scurried off to the tumble dryer to open it in private.

I expect I shall be told of its contents in due course…

Honey for tea!

Wilson has put a vase of flowers in the niche next to the Bee House, so that Polly doesn't have to travel too far to work while she's settling in to her new home.

He's also left out a tiny jar, for Polly to put her honey into. 

He's promised me honey for tea tonight — I'm really looking forward to that!

Polly moves in!

A bee has moved in to Wilson's Bee House! 

When she alighted on one of the flowers in the garden, W immediately sprang into action: he picked the flower, carried it round to the bee house and poked her into one of the 'apartments' with a stick.

He then explained to her that this was her new home, and henceforth she would be known as Polly. W told me that she took this news very well, saying 'Zzzzzzzz zzzzzzz' which, although he doesn't fully understand it, probably means 'Okay, thankyou.' 

Or possibly, 'Why did you poke me with that stick?'

New House!

Wilson can be very handy around the house… as long as he's doing a job that interests him!  

After just 20 minutes with my cordless drill, two boxes of screws and seven strips of Rawlplugs his new Bee House is now installed on the Folly, ready for its new occupant. 

I asked why it took so many screws and Rawlplugs, and he told me that he didn't want to risk the Bee House falling and injuring Polly. 

I think the only risk of it falling is from the weight of screws he's used!

Collateral damage to my VISA card...

In much the same way that, when we pop in to Waitrose for a litre of milk Wilson finds a trolly-load of other shopping we can't manage without, so it was at the garden centre. Between the Insect Hotel section and the Exit, we passed any number of plants W just had to have. 

This bee is turning out to be an expensive pet… and we haven't even got her yet!

Wilson makes preparations for his new pet!

This morning Wilson reminded me of my promise to let him have a pet bee. 

Half an hour later he popped Antony and Tiny Toy into the salad drawer of the fridge (he said they couldn't handle the heat) and we set off to the Garden Centre to choose a Bee House for Polly. 

I had no idea there would be so many to choose from! 

Wilson feels the heat!

Following yesterday's brief blip in the weather, today the air feels even hotter, the sun even fiercer. 

Straight after breakfast Wilson headed to the pool, admitting he was relieved he no longer lived in his ancestral homeland of Costa Rica. 

'I just couldn't stand the heat, New Dad!' he groaned, dabbing some Factor 50 on to his nose. 'It's totally doing my nut in!'

Spread the love!

Wilson loved his paddling pool, staying in it all day yesterday until his paws went all wrinkly and he thought he was starting to dissolve! 

Since we got back from Jersey, many of you have been in touch to tell him how much you liked his car window stickers... so he has produced a version for you to print, cut out and stick in your own cars!

He understands that most of you will not be fortunate enough to have an anteater of your own, but he says that using these stickers will 'Spread the Anteater Love!' — and surely we all want to do that!

Woo! Look at me! I'm swimming!

Although his family originates from a very hot country, Wilson has spent all his life in Sussex, and he's not used to the current high temperatures which he's finding a bit oppressive. So he has bravely put aside his inherent dislike of water, and bought a paddling pool from Amazon.

He was waiting anxiously this morning for the postman to deliver it. When it finally arrived Wilson took the box and ran into the garden, tearing it open as he went, and erected it quickly. Then using the hose he added ¾" of water and gingerly lowered himself in.

After a few minutes he was splashing about happily and I suggested he might like a little more water. He refused, saying that anything deeper than ¾" might pose a drowning risk for Antony or his Tiny Toy. 

The sTone Brothers receive their gifts...

Wilson has presented the sTone Brothers with their souvenir sticks of Jersey Rock… though I can't imagine what they're going to do with them: sTony can't find his to eat it, and sToneye can only look at his… but W says that they are both pleased with their gifts. 

I expect he'll be back later to help… possibly by eating the rock for them!

At the moment Wilson is busy on-line ordering up a paddling pool from Amazon.

Friends reunited

Without Wilson's constant diversions to fairgrounds etc we made good time back to Uckfield.

Once W had woken up he went next door to retrieve Diesel the Goldfish, and they had a tearful reunion… although I never worked out how W could be so certain that Diesel was crying, what with him being underwater.

Wilson presented Diesel and Antony with sticks of Jersey Rock, and an extra-small stick for Tiny Toy, before heading out into the garden to see sTony and sToneye.

Holidayed-out!

Following an uneventful journey back to Poole on the ferry and an undisturbed night at the hotel (to Wilson's disappointment — no refund this time!) I thought we'd be heading straight home. 

But Wilson has a knack of seeking out fun, and he directed me to Bournemouth where he discovered a sea-front fairground. 

He had a ride on the carousel (scarier than it looks) and an ice-cream (not as big as he expected) before finally declaring himself 'completely holidayed-out!' 

Climbing into the back seat of the car he settled down to sleep, telling me that I'd have to rely on the sat-nav to get me home as he was too tired for any more map-reading.

A mechanical fish tries to cheer Wilson up

Wilson always gets a bit melancholy when a holiday draws to a close, and today is no different. 

We spent the morning at the St Helier Maritime Museum which was in fact very good and filled with excellent interactive displays, though W was too morose to pay much attention. He did like this giant copper fish-head which opened its mouth when you pressed a foot pedal, however!

After lunch he spent some time forlornly arranging his 'We've Been to Jersey' car stickers in the rear window before we head off to the ferry terminal later today.

Ich bin eine Jersey!

Since our visit to The War Tunnels, Wilson has felt quite a connection to Jersey and its people. Today he said he wanted to re-visit the statues in Freedom Square, so he could demonstrate his solidarity with the Jersey Islanders. 

Once we arrived he stood amongst the bronze figures and, paraphrasing the late President Kennedy, shouted at the top of his voice, 'Ich bin eine Jersey!' He then raised one paw aloft in the universal gesture of fraternity and asked me to take his photo.

It was a very moving moment… although I'm pretty sure W's shouted slogan translates as 'I am a pullover!'

Then back to St Brelade's bay for another wonderful dinner on our last full day on Jersey.

Amazing sand castles!

Our time on Jersey is drawing to a close, but there are still one or two things Wilson wanted to see before we leave. One of these was Sand Wizard Simon, whose display is filled with magnificent and enormous sand sculptures. W chatted at length with the sculptor, hoping to pick up some tips for his next trip to the beach.

We spent the rest of the day in the beautiful grounds of a stately home. There were several bee hives in the kitchen garden area, and Wilson took a great interest in these. 

Later he asked me whether he could have a pet bee. I told him I was sure that could be arranged but he should wait until we were back in England, rather than have to declare a pet bee at customs. 

W was very excited, and told me he would call his bee Polly and would sell her honey in tiny jars when our garden was open to the public. 

I had rather hoped he had forgotten about opening our garden to the public...

Eating Italian

After a long day at Fort Elizabeth we had an uneventful crossing back to the mainland. 

Wilson just had time to take a tour of St Helier on a Land Train before we headed off for dinner at a really lovely Italian restaurant overlooking the harbour at St Aubin. 

The waiters seemed to take a shine to W, calling him bello piccolo mangiatore delle formiche and lavishing him with extra attention and antipasto. 

W took great pleasure in this, whispering between courses that I should treat him more like this when we're at home.

Wilson joins the army and helps fire a big gun!

A number of male visitors, including Wilson, were press-ganged into becoming army recruits! 

They were drilled and marched around the parade ground for a while, then led away to the battlements where, with the recruits' help, the '18th Century soldier' fired the one o'clock cannon. 

This is a day young Wilson is unlikely to forget in a hurry...

Fix Bayonets!

Disembarking from the amphibious and entering Fort Elizabeth, Wilson confidently explained to me that it is called Fort Elizabeth because Mr Prince Philip gave it to Queen Elizabeth for her birthday when she was 100. 

We soon came across a man dressed as a soldier from the 1850s demonstrating how to use a bayonet and fire a musket. 

Wilson felt a bit poorly during the bayonetting demonstration, then during a talk by a blood-spattered 'surgeon' about battle-field operations (mostly amputations) he had to be helped outside and given a glass of water. 

Although it's well paid, I think he should cross Surgeon off his list of possible careers!

Sea crossing to Fort Elizabeth

Today we're off to visit Fort Elizabeth, which apparently involves a short sea-crossing in an amphibious vehicle. 

Wilson is — how can I put this without causing offence? — a nervous sailor, so we were both relieved when we arrived to find the tide was out and our craft the "Charming Betty" would not be required to float, merely to drive over some very wet sand. 

Nevertheless, W paid very close attention to the location of the life-jackets and the 'evacuation procedures' video.

St Helier Steam Clock

As Wilson has planned quite a heavy schedule for the next few days, we decided to spend a quiet day in St Helier.

He was a bit nervous about standing next to the mine, saying, 'Just read the sign! It says it's a REAL MINE! It could go off at any minute! Hello?'

In the evening I spotted the St Helier Steam Clock and I was reminded of the fantastical Guinness Clock which I'd seen in my childhood. I persuaded Wilson to wait until it struck the hour.

'It'll be amazing,' I told him. 'I expect people will pop out and the paddle wheels will turn and the whistle will blow and there'll be steam everywhere — you can't imagine how great it will be!'

We waited. The clock passed six. Nothing happened.

Well, that's 50 minutes of my life I'll never see again!' Wilson remarked, a trifle testily I thought.