As Wilson finished his breakfast, he elaborated on his Good Idea at some length.
Furbruary will, he explained, be an Awareness Month for Furry Animals — mostly Anteaters and Sloths, but also including ALL furry animals. Even cats and dogs.
'Oh,' he added, 'and Elephants — elephants aren't really furry, but they're wise and adorable! And they're a bit hairy in parts.'
So that's it then. I imagine there will be a lot of signing of Animal Cruelty petitions taking place during Furbruary...
I persuaded Wilson to wait until I was properly awake before fully explaining his Good Idea to me, so over breakfast he finally laid out his plan.
'You know about Stoptober, don't you, New Dad?'
I nodded, checking with him, 'That's when people stop smoking, isn't it?'
'Yes,' he replied. 'Movember — the no-shaving month? And of course Dry January?'
'Of course!' I confirmed.
'Veguary?'
'Is that your idea?' I asked, 'Veguary? Does everyone just Veg Out until February? That sounds BRILLIANT!'
'No no no!' he exclaimed testily, 'Veguary is ALREADY a thing — it's when people turn vegetarian for a month! Although, your idea is quite appealing — I wish I'd thought of it! Anyway, my idea is FURBRUARY!'
Wilson was so upset that I let him sleep in my bed last night.
He sobbed himself to sleep, and as I drifted off I resolved to phone the vet in the morning to enquire about grief counselling for him.
Suddenly at around 2 am I felt something poking into my ear — it was the tip of W's snout as he whispered loudly, 'New Dad! Are you awake, New Dad?'
Rousing myself to full wakefulness, I replied, 'What? What's the matter? Are you alright?'
'I didn't wake you, did I?' he asked. 'Well never mind, because I've just had a good idea!'
On past experience, a 'Brilliant' idea is a plan that might (but sadly, won't) make him rich and famous, while a 'Good' idea is some labour-saving wheeze or plan for the general good of mankind...
Wilson spent much of yesterday evening and this morning staring morosely out of the window at the puddle which is all that now remains of his snowman.
Occasionally he'll say, 'I loved that little guy...' and sigh.
Honestly, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd hung a black crepe bow at the front door and covered the mirrors. Or at least started wearing a black arm-band.
The Bees are being very supportive to W at this difficult time, constantly plying him with hot chocolate and ant cookies, and telling him that they're 'sorry for his loss', but because of his resemblance to an undertaker, I've asked Uncle Z to remain outside.
Wilson had to work fast to get even a tiny snowman built, as the snow was quickly melting all around him...
Wilson's recent disappointments — his failure to discover any new elements or to snag a Product Placement contract — were quickly forgotten today, when we awoke to see: SNOW!
Until very recently it's been unseasonably mild here, so no-one was expecting this. It's still just above zero, so W ran out into the garden to make the most of the snow before it all melted away.
The sTone Brothers kept him company, but Polly and Billi wouldn't allow the children out in the cold air...
In this morning's mail, Wilson received a reply from the Editor of the New Scientist. It was a very nice letter, but not altogether what W had wanted to hear:
Dear Mr Vermilingua
Thank you very much for the two samples of 'new elements' which you sent to this office. We have had them chemically analysed, and can now inform you of the results of those analyses:
SAMPLE 1 [metallic]:
This IS an element, but sadly not a new one. We believe it to be Aluminium (chemical symbol Al) and, judging from the colouration and printing, think it may originally have been a chocolate wrapper. Probably a soft-centre.
SAMPLE 2 [fibrous]:
This proved to be mostly organic in composition (dead skin cells and hair/fur) and is colloquially known as a "Dust Bunny". Although not a new element (or indeed an element at all) colleagues in the office have suggested you might like to name it "Dustbunnyite" — chemical symbol Db.
Thank you for contacting us in this matter and we are very sorry to have to give you this disappointing news. However, we hope you will continue in your researches, and wish you the best of luck.
Illegible
Managing Editor
PS We should like to point out that ALL the Row Seven Elements — where the undiscovered elements lie — are highly radioactive and poisonous; please take care!
There was great excitement earlier today when Wilson received a call from a local trader asking about his Product Placement Service.
Wilson put on his best businesslike voice (maximum gravitas and dependability with a soupçon of world-weariness — though a tiny bit squeaky, due to his excitement) and negotiated a very good price. But as the conversation proceeded, his face began to fall.
After the call ended we all gathered round to see what had occurred.
Wilson told us that, typically, his first Product Placement client was a local butcher with a shop at the top of the High Street. He wanted to commission Wilson to go into the shop and buy some meat and sausages in return for a fat fee, and everything W 'bought' being given to him for free.
This sounded like a good deal to me, but I knew what Wilson was going to say, and I was right:
'It was a generous offer, New Dad, but as a strict vegetarian,' he sighed sadly, 'my moral compass would not allow me to accept this commission.'
Today Wilson is trying a new approach to marketing his Product Placement services.
He's sitting in the dining room pretending to eat a bowl of cereal, while discussing its merits loudly with me.
'So, New Dad, have you tried this Stuff*?'
Then I have to say, 'No Wilson, I haven't tried it. Is it good?'
'Good? It's amazing! Not only is it toothsome and nourishing, with loads of essential vitamins and stuff, it's also chock-full of fibre and flavour! It contains that well-known medical ingredient, Boswellox, and kids love it! You really should try some — it's available in all good stores that sell this kind of ... stuff!'
I should explain to W the difference between Placement and Endorsement some time...
*Your Product Name could go here!
Wilson is in the kitchen, apparently talking to himself. In a posh voice.
'Of course, toothpaste is useful not just for cleaning teeth, but in all sorts of household jobs — for example, cleaning your tv or computer screen!'
With this, he rubbed toothpaste all over his (ie my) laptop screen.
'Oh! Oh my!' he exclaimed, surveying the mess he had made. 'I expect that will wash off and the screen will be better than new!'
'What are you doing with my laptop?' I asked.
'Oh! I didn't hear you come in, New Dad — I'm just amping-up my Product Placement campaign, so that manufacturers send me money to display their stuff on the Blog. I seem to have made a bit of a mess here...'
As I went downstairs to breakfast this morning I noticed Wilson emerging from the bathroom.
Due to his hatred of washing and water in general, this room is pretty much Terra Incognita to him, so I asked him what was up.
'Oh, nothing,' he replied shiftily, but then he produced a family-sized pack of toothpaste from behind his back, and asked me, 'Have you tried this, New Dad? It's jolly good!'
I replied that yes, I had tried it — in fact I use it every day — but I was puzzled what he was doing with it, since anteaters are famous for having no teeth.
'Oh, I was just going to... clean... something with it!' he said brightly. 'It's very good for cleaning and it tastes...' he consulted the label and continued, 'Minty! Also, Fresh!'
I had no idea what was going on, until I noticed the little 'P' symbol he'd stood on the landing floor...
Wilson's despair was short-lived when he remembered that he'd ordered his white lab coat using my VISA card so he would not, after all, be out of pocket — I would!
Glancing at the tv, he asked me, 'New Dad, what's that little "P" in the corner of the screen for? I've never noticed it before — is it a tribute to Bob Holness?'
I explained to him how sometimes tv programmes will include things in their sets just to make them look lifelike, but sometimes manufacturers will PAY the show to include one of their products.
I went on to say that it had only become legal in the UK quite recently and was still a bit controversial, but I saw that he had drifted away into a world of his own, lost in his thoughts...
___________
Wilson barely knows who David Bowie is, but for me he's been a constant throughout my adult life. A little bit of me has died today.
Wilson returned to the living room and addressed his research team.
'Having to wash my paws is not the worst part. I shall have to cancel this project on grounds of safety, for it is too dangerous to continue!'
He surveyed the room before adding, 'I cannot put you, my loyal team, at risk from my ground-breaking research, and you will not be able to share in my Nobel Prize... for there will BE no Nobel Prize!'
Many of the toys were sniffing, some openly crying, but Wilson pressed on.
'But even THAT is not the worst of it: I'd just ordered a white lab coat to make me look more science-y... and the eBay retailer does not accept returns!'
'You are aware,' Uncle Zoltan repeated, 'that ALL the Row Seven Elements — where the undiscovered elements lie — are highly radioactive and poisonous?'
Everyone who had handled Wilson's 'Elements' began glancing nervously at each other.
'Is that true?' Wilson demanded. 'I mean, is it REALLY true?'
Uncle Z nodded gravely.
W held his head in despair. After a moment's thought he announced, 'Okay, everyone who has come into contact with my new Element samples will have to wash their paws!'
'What, even YOU?' Antony asked in alarm.
'Yes, even me!' he replied somberly.
Polly took W up to the bathroom and made him stand on a stool to reach the wash basin, then watched him washing his paws to ensure he did it thoroughly...
While he waits to hear from the Editor of New Scientist, Wilson is researching suitably element-y names for his new Element.
Tiny Toy has accepted the fact that the chances of it being called 'Tinytoyite' are vanishingy small (although he did briefly harbour some hopes for 'TTanium') and has gone back to sleep. However, everybody else is taking a great interest in this part of the Research Programme.
The Johnson Brothers are both lobbying in favour of 'Johnsonite' while Antony is strongly in favour of 'Antonyum.'
W had just begged for some quiet because he couldn't think with all the racket and shouting going on, when Uncle Zoltan appeared.
Wilson groaned and muttered under his breath, 'Oh no — here comes the 'Zoltanium' campaign...' but in fact Uncle Z came bearing grave news.
'You are aware, I suppose,' he announced, 'that ALL the Row Seven Elements — where the undiscovered elements lie — are highly radioactive and poisonous?'
Having completed his search underneath and behind the cushions of the sofa, Wilson has moved on to rifle through the kitchen drawers in search of New Elements.
When I enquired how he was doing, he handed me what looked suspiciously like a piece of screwed-up tin foil (probably a chocolate wrapper) and a bit of fluff, and asked me what I thought.
When I replied, 'Hmmm. This looks like a piece of screwed-up tin foil (probably a chocolate wrapper) and a bit of fluff!' he snatched them back and popped them into an addressed envelope, saying, 'We'll just let the Editor of the New Scientist be the judge of that — as a lay person, you obviously don't have the necessary skills to pronounce on these discoveries!'
Then he added, 'Um, have you got a stamp for the letter?'
Antony was still manning the microscope but TT had long since decided that Cutting Edge Research is less exciting than it sounds and gone back to sleep...
Wilson is in the living room, looking for new 'missing' elements under the sofa.
He explained that everything that goes missing eventually turns up under the sofa — or down the back of the cushions, which will be his next move.
He has with him his Extra-Brite Military Grade LED Torch (an Xmas gift) and his microscope, plus a copy of 'The Periodic Table Of The Elements Colouring Book' which arrived this morning courtesy of Amazon Prime.
Antony is helping in the search too — it is his job to put any prospective 'elements' under the microscope and say sciency things. Things like, 'We could reverse the Flux Generator!' which will apparently encourage Wilson in his quest...
Wilson has been jolted out of his Frühjahrsmüdigkeit by yesterday's news that four new elements have been discovered.
'How hard can it be,' he reasoned, 'if they can find four all at once?'
Now he's in the kitchen with a plate of 'brain food' [cake] and a mug of strong coffee doing some research. I have to say that his research is less concerned with the process of discovery of new elements than with the cash value of a Nobel Prize.
'I shall call my new element "Wilsonium"' he declared proudly. 'Or possibly "Vermilinguite".'
In spite of heavy rain, I took down the outdoor Xmas decorations this morning. Wilson helped by watching me out the window and looking encouraging while I struggled to untangle the fairylights cord in the high winds.
Later I found him listening to the wireless in the dining room. Antony and TT were playing with one of W's Xmas presents — a snow globe inscribed 'Partly Cloudy With A Chance Of Ants' while Wilson framed another of his presents, a portrait of his hero Peter Dawson.
I could detect his aura of post-Xmas ennui, so I tried to cheer him up with some exciting news: I told him that someone he was very close to would be getting married this year!
'Is it my Mum, Mrs Vermilingua?' he asked. 'Oh, no, it'll be my Big Sister, Andrea! Whoever it is, they'll probably want me to be the best man!'
'No,' I replied, 'it's not one of your relatives, it's one of your friends — but I can't tell you who yet as it's still a secret!'
He immediately started making a list, the first item on it being: 'Go to Brighton to buy a New Hat!'
It has been raining heavily all day today, so I relented about the outdoor Xmas decorations — we've just taken down the indoor ones.
Once we'd got the Xmas Tree back into the loft and hoovered up the sparkles from the carpet, Wilson declared that he was 'totes exhausted.' I felt pretty much the same, so we both relaxed with a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows. And ants.
While we were chatting, W confided that he was a bit disappointed by 2016 — so far it was no 'Merrier' than 2015 and, moreover, there was now nothing to look forward to until Easter...
