Island Paradise

Wilson removed his medal from its box and examined it closely. 

'All your suggestions are excellent,' I said, 'but rather more costly than I'd hoped. What do you think of a holiday on the Isle of Wight?'

'The Isle of Wight?' he asked, 'I've never heard of it — is it abroad?'

'Oh, pretty much,' I replied, trying to sound casual rather than evasive. 'We'd get there by boat, they mostly speak English and we could take the car. It's a lot like Jersey…'

I waited anxiously for his response, but he seemed engrossed by his medal.

Polly arrived with a mug of coffee for him, and he asked her whether she'd ever heard of the Isle of Wight.

'Oh yes,' she said, 'it's lovely there!'

'Okay then,' he decided, 'The Isle of Wight it is!'

I turned to leave, but he called me back.

'New Dad, this medal seems to smell of, well... chocolate.'

'Oh yes,' I replied, 'it's not solid gold, it's chocolate on the inside. I wouldn't leave it lying in the sun.'

'I shall keep it in the fridge,' he said, 'when I'm not actually wearing it.'

Holiday plans

Wilson sat opposite me in the kitchen, gazing at his medal… but I've known him long enough to know he had something on his mind. I asked him what he was thinking, and he looked a little uncomfortable.

'Look, New Dad,' he started, 'My Medal, my BDC, is wonderful, and I feel really honoured…'

'But?' I encouraged him.

'But, you did promise me a holiday if my Report from the Digital Detox Clinic was good! And in many ways, it was good! Quite good.' he continued.

'You're right,' I agreed, 'I did promise that, and your Report was pretty good. Considering.'

'Well, I've made a list!' he said, pushing a note towards me.

I read it aloud. 'New York… Venice… Paris… Costa Rica…'

He nodded enthusiastically.

Acceptance speech

By the time the applause and cheering had died down, Wilson's cheeks were scarlet. 

He wiped his eyes with the backs of his paws, took a deep breath and said, in a voice choked with emotion, 'Thank you everybody — this is the best day of my life! Although I am still quite young, so I may experience even better days in the future, I don't even know.'

He thought for a few moments before continuing, 'This Medal, awarded to me for Extreme Bravery in Difficult Circumstances, which I shall call my BDC Medal, it means even more to me than my OBE (which The Queen has still not ratified) because it comes from my friends and family! That being so, I hereby revoke my OBE!'

His audience fell into a stunned silence. Uncle Zoltan coughed; his hat fell off, rolled across the table and fell to the floor.

'I shall return it to Buckingham Palace, if I can remember where I put it, and I shall henceforward be known as Wilson Vermilingua, BDC, nOBE!'

He sat down, still blushing, to more applause and everyone crowded round to congratulate him and get a closer look at his BDC medal.

A young anteater is honoured!

'Wilson,' I began, 'Since I have known you, you have had many business enterprises, projects, inventions, get-rich-quick schemes — call them what you will — and they have all failed! They have all failed dismally!'

Wilson hung his head and stared at his feet.

'But they have been magnificent failures, and you have put them behind you and tried again!' I continued. 'In the words of John Kennedy, "Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever achieve greatly!" You have failed greatly, and having put those failures so successfully behind you and moved on, I believe that one day you will achieve your dream, you will fulfil the childhood promise you made to your Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, you will be a millionaire!'

Everyone clapped and cheered wildly. After a moment I held up my hand for quiet, before proceeding.

It is for this reason that your friends in the Wilson Vermilingua Appreciation Society* and on Twitter** have asked me to present you with this, the Wilson Vermilingua Medal for Extreme Bravery in Difficult Circumstances!' 

At this point I pulled his medal out of my pocket and stuck it to his chest with masking tape.

There was more tumultuous applause and calls of 'Speech! Speech!'

* https://www.facebook.com/groups/wilsonvermilinguaappreciation/

** @WVermilingua

A sense of anticipation!

I gathered the entire household together in the living room, in preparation for presenting Wilson with Something Special. There was a great sense of excitement — or ANTicipation, as Wilson put it with a nervous giggle. 

The major topics of discussion were, 'Why is the TV switched off?' and 'Who's in trouble?' but I tried to allay any anxiety by my naturally cheerful and sunny disposition. 

Ha ha — okay, that bit's a joke!

Anyway, once everyone had settled down, I asked Wilson to come to the front of the room. 

Uncle Zoltan, who was standing perilously close to a can of Fly Spray, whispered loudly to W, 'Hah! Now you're for it my boy, and not a moment too soon!'

________

In case you don't know, you can support Wilson by joining the TOTALLY FREE Wilson Vermilingua Appreciation Society — he'd love that!
https://www.facebook.com/groups/wilsonvermilinguaappreciation/

A bit of a disappointment…

Wilson has just shown me the fruits of his labours: he held up a crispy, drooping and somewhat garishly-coloured twig that had once possibly been a rose.

'What do you think, New Dad?' he asked morosely.

'What do you think?' I returned, playing it safe.

'Well… it's not as good as I'd hoped,' he confessed with a sigh.

I asked him, 'What about all the other flowers you painted?' and he told be that all the petals had fallen off them while he was shaking them about to remove the smell of acetone paint.

I consoled him that it had been a brilliant and ground-breaking idea, let down by the current state of technology.

He smiled bravely, then asked whether I'd like him to get rid of the paint-marks all over the lawn by spraying the whole garden green? 

I replied that it might be best to just let it all grow out… but that I thought I had something which might cheer him up...

Remember you can join in the conversation and chat with Wilson over at Twitter: @WVermilingua

Test Run

Wilson assembled his tools in the garden — spray paint, after-shave and a vase of dead flowers — then banished everyone else to the house, 'Just on the off-chance of some paint-driftage' as he put it, before he commenced spraying.

I was grateful he had agreed to do this in the garden, rather his first-choice location of the kitchen, as the paint went everywhere… except, remarkably, on himself! 

He took extra care not to get paint on his fur since I'd promised him a bath if he got into a mess, and his dislike of water is almost legendary.

Now he's finished and is waiting for the flowers to dry (and to stop reeking of cellulose paint) to see how his rejuvenated bouquet has turned out…

Resurrection

Wilson carefully withdrew a can of spray paint from under the sofa. 

'Voilà!' he announced proudly.

'Ah, I understand!' I said, struggling to keep a note of incredulity from my voice, 'You're going to re-paint dead flowers in their original colours, then sell them. Does that even work?'

'Not just their original colours but also entirely new colours too — blue daffodils, silver bluebells, some new colours I haven't even invented yet!' he said, excitedly. 'I shall be doing my first test-run later today. Just in case the first ones aren't quite perfect, I shall give them to you, New Dad! But wait — that's not all…'

He rummaged under the sofa again and produced a small green bottle of BRUT aftershave. 

'They will smell like new flowers too!'

Pre-Loved Flowers

Once we'd got home I pressed Wilson about what was going on, and he reluctantly agreed to explain. 

His research (hanging around in the foyer at Tesco) had apparently revealed that 17% of shoppers (mostly women, but he didn't have the precise figures to hand. To paw) bought a bunch of flowers.

'They take them home, look at them for a week then throw them away!' he said.

'Yes, because they're dead,' I replied.

'Ah! That is where I come in, with the Wilson Vermilingua OBE on-line Pre-Loved Flower Boutique!'

'You're going to try to sell dead flowers to people?' I asked, incredulously. 'For actual money?'

He raised one claw and touched the side of his nose knowingly.

'Not until I have subjected them to my Top Secret Refurbishment Process which will restore them to their original beauty!' he said, pulling something out from beneath the sofa…

Industrial Injury

Wilson has decided to treat the 'getting stuck in a recycling bin' incident as an Industrial Injury, but since he's self-employed he can't decide who to sue. He says that his solicitors, Messrs. "I Can't Believe It's A Solicitors" will advise him. 

I hope that, in the absence of anyone else, I don't turn out to be the Defendant Of Choice — perhaps I should seek legal advice myself.

Anyway, I've finally managed to persuade W to explain what he was doing in the recycling bin in the first place: looking for dead flowers. 

He added that to say any more would endanger his Intellectual Property Rights, the USP of his new business, so I'm really still none the wiser.

Yet… 

Stock acquisition

I've just had an odd telephone call from one of our neighbours. She said she'd heard a noise coming from one of her recycling bins, and when she went to investigate there appeared to be an anteater stuck in it. She said she was just calling to see whether I knew anything about it.

I ran round to her house and, sure enough, found Wilson struggling to get out of her Green Waste bin. 

Once I'd pulled him out I told him that he couldn't just go round rooting through other people's dustbins, and asked him what he thought he was doing.

Having been stuck upside-down in the bin for quite a long time he wasn't in the best of moods. He dusted himself down and replied with as much dignity he could muster that, at this point, he did not wish to discuss the matter.

Research

This morning Wilson popped into the village, first to Tesco to 'Do some research' then on to the Estate Agents to 'Scope out some business premises.'

He still won't tell me what his new enterprise is, but he confessed that the shops available at rent he could afford didn't quite fit in with the sophisticated business image he was hoping to create, so he might open an eBay shop just until he gets established. 

All he would tell me was that his business would have impeccable 'Green Credentials' and would involve recycling, so that sounds pretty good. He also said that following his research at Tesco, he was more confident than ever of success with his unique new venture, and would be seeking to float it on the Stock Exchange.

I'm sure I've heard all this somewhere before…

Homecoming

I collected Wilson from the Digital Detox Clinic last night, and we had a very emotional reunion! 

Once he was home I cooked his favourite meal (from his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua's secret recipe) Ant Lasagne with Extra Ants, and we discussed what he'd learned during his Detox.

Apparently the Head Nurse, a Miss Mildred Ratched RCN, was very upfront with all the residents, telling them that in a week there was no hope of de-addicting any them from The Internet, so instead there would be a series of lectures on Safe Internet Usage. 

These covered such topics as, How Not To Be Groomed, How Not To Be Phished, How Not To Get Into Trouble With Your Parents' VISA Card While Online, How Not To Find You've Bought A Mail-Order Bride etc. All very useful stuff for a 21st Century Anteater. 

Apart from that, it seems they all sat around playing 'Name That Ant!' for cash (as a result of which Wilson now has a very tidy bank balance) and watching a Swedish supernatural/police procedural tv series called 'Jordscott.' 

I don't know whether or not that was appropriate viewing, but having to read the subtitles was good practice for some of the slower animals.

W also had time enough to have an idea for a 'Totes Brill Cannot Fail' new moneymaking business venture, which will apparently involve him renting an empty shop in the village…

POSTCARD!

I've had a postcard from Wilson at the Digital Detox Camp, and he seems to be doing alright!

I shall be so glad when he's safely home again…

It's quiet here…

It is SO QUIET without Wilson running about, getting into mischief and inventing things. His little tumble-dryer bedroom looks so empty.

I'm really missing the little guy.

I hope he's alright…

Tearful farewell

I suffered a brief moment of panic when I couldn't find Wilson this morning, but he was in the garden saying goodbye to the sTone Brothers — he hasn't run away from home and he has accepted his fate. 

He's got a lot less packing with him than when he goes on holiday — in fact it's all fitted inside his "Hi Wilson!"™ Gym Bag. He's taking his Tiny Clanger knitting pattern and some wool, in case there's anyone at the Camp who can help him with his casting-on. 

He'd also packed his iPad 'just in case!' but I confiscated that.

After a tearful farewell to everyone we set off for the Digital Detox Camp.

Once I'd settled him in and helped him unpack I kissed him goodbye and promised him that if he got a good report we'd go on holiday together somewhere nice as soon as he returned home. 

Tough Love

I've made up my mind: Wilson is going on a Digital Detox! It's at a lovely house in the country and lasts for round about a week, depending on the progress he makes.

To say he is not happy about this would be an understatement — he's in the garden at the moment eating what he describes as his 'last meal' before running away from home.

All his friends are out with him trying to persuade him not to leave. Even Uncle Zoltan has rocked up to advise that life on the road is not all it's cracked up to be, and to tell W that if he's expecting to get by on Public Free Wi-Fi he can forget it.

We set off for DD Camp tomorrow. 

If he hasn't left home by then…

The Facts Of Life Part Deux

Bees' Guest Blog

Polly: 'I've found a photo of myself dressed as a princess just before the Queen Bee Selection Battle commenced. Billi didn't take part in this, because she was picketing against Bee Beauty Pageants at the time — she turned up in denim and carrying a placard… and I think that was when I first fell for her. She was such a rebel! Still is!'

The two bees smiled fondly at each other before Polly continued.

'Anyway, so after the big Princess Fight the last bee standing, which wasn't me, obviously, was crowned Queen. That evening she went on a date with the most handsomest boy bee of her choice, and some time later she put some eggs in her special "Queen Cups" — it's very romantic!'

Billi: 'So, now you know all about Bees — next month we'll tell you about The Birds!'

Polly: 'Yes, we'll see you next month with more interesting and educational facts from…' 

Both, in unison: 'The Bees!'

Knitting Therapy

Wilson took the knitting pattern from me, and asked where I'd got it.

'One of your friends, who is extremely concerned about you, emailed it to me to give to you, and I printed it out,' I replied.

'Exactly!' he exclaimed, 'Yet you would deprive me of this educational resource! This opportunity to keep in touch with my friends! This 21st Century Boon to All Mankind!'

I tried to explain that I didn't want to deprive him of the internet, but that I thought that his attachment to it was becoming... obsessive.

Once he'd assembled his balls of knitting wool, he called me into the living room and told me he thought I'd downloaded the pattern in the wrong language. 

He read a passage aloud to me: 'Cast on 6 sts. Row 1 (RS): Knit. Row 2: Purl. Repeat last two rows once more. Row 5: K1, m1, k to last st, m1, k1. (8 sts).'

I had to admit that I didn't understand it either, although the odd word here and there was in English.

'Wasn't the pattern for Colin The Knitted Camel like this?' I asked.

'I didn't have a pattern for Colin.' he said, 'I made him up as I went along!'

In retrospect, that does explain a lot about Colin…

If you'd like to knit your own Tiny Clanger, the pattern is here: 

http://www.radiotimes.com/news/2015-06-09/knit-your-own-tiny-clanger

Online again

Yesterday I hid the iPad in my most secret hiding place. It's the place where I hide Wilson's Xmas and birthday presents and all those 'grown-up' magazines I don't want him to see: science journals with articles about Reality, Consciousness etc. Also, just to be on the safe side, I turned off the Wi-Fi router.

This morning I found Wilson sitting in the living room browsing his email on the iPad!

'How did you get that?' I asked him.

'Oh, good morning, New Dad — I found it in that place where you hide all that stuff you don't want me to see!' he replied cheerfully.

'And the Wi-Fi?'

'I know all the neighbours' passwords. Did you know that some of the neighbours are getting much faster connections than we are? You should think about switching suppliers!'

Yesterday I'd told him I had something to distract him from his on-line virtual life, and today I gave it to him: it's a knitting pattern to make Tiny Clanger. 

He loves The Clangers so I hope this will give him something to do with his paws and keep him out of trouble.