WEIGH-IN

Both the boys spent a rather restless night in the tumble dryer, each blaming the other for taking up too much room.

Byron is obviously in the middle of a growth spurt, but he suggested that Wilson too had gained a few pounds. 

'Carrying a bit of timber' was how he put it and W — a bit stung by this — insisted on a weigh-off on the bathroom scales.

This didn't settle anything, since neither of them had any idea of their previous weight, but it did give them something new to argue about. 

Eventually they settled the matter out in the garden, through the medium of Competitive Ant Eating. 

I kept well out of the way...

SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS

Wilson's younger brother Byron has really grown since the last time he stayed, so it's quite a squeeze fitting both him and W in the tumble dryer together. 

There has been much jostling and shouting of insults, but all good-humoured. 

As far as I can tell. 

W has hinted that we should probably buy a Guest Tumble Dryer for when we have overnight visitors...

BEES' BLOG

Hello! We are Polly and Billi  the Bees, and this is our guest blog!

Today we would like to celebrate a real Bee Hero: Mr Morgan Freeman! 

Like us, Mr Morgan was very worried about the loss of bees, so he converted his 500,000 sq m farm into a Bee Refuge — he hired a gardener who planted loads of clover and flowering trees and other things that bees just love, bought dozens of hives and became a bee-keeper! 

Hurray! Let's hear it for Mr Morgan.

Oh, apparently Mr Morgan is an actor too — we expect he's a very good one, though we're not personally familiar with his work!

BEE like Mr Morgan — help bees!

(Hahaha — did you see what we did there?!)

We've been Polly and Billi the Bees and we'll see you again next month — until then, BEEEEEEE GOOD!

FARM TOUR

There was a lot of giggling from the back seat on the journey home, but by the time we arrived both boys had calmed down a bit.

As soon as we stopped on the drive, Wilson jumped out of the car and, without even pausing to say hello to anyone, ran into the garden so he could show Byron his famous Tomato Farm.

W explained how the sTone Brothers were guarding the farm as a temporary measure, just until he could get a Guard Piglet, then went on to tell him about Projected Yields and Farm Subsidies.

Happily, he did remember to thank the sTone boys, patting them on their handles and telling them they'd both done a great job. 

Byron was suitably appreciative and admiring, but I think he was a little disappointed that there weren't any tomatoes to see yet; I think Wilson was a bit discouraged about that too.
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Wednesday (being the 1st of the month) will be the Bees' Blog, so I'll be back on Friday to tell you how Wilson and Byron are getting on — I hope they don't fall out...

WILSON PLUS ONE

Before I even reached the entrance to the zoo I saw Wilson waiting for me on the pavement, with his suitcase. And another slightly smaller anteater. With his suitcase too.

'Hi, New Dad!' Wilson greeted me, 'You remember by half-brother Byron, don't you? Well, I've told him he could come to stay at our house for a few days.' He looked appealingly at me, adding, 'That will be okay, won't it?'

What could I say? Anyway, I do remember Byron — he was very polite and really no trouble — so I agreed.

Both anteaters climbed into the back of the car, leaving me to stow their cases in the boot, and we set off for home.

THE POWER OF ADVERTISING

I still couldn't get through on Mrs Vermilingua's phone so I called the Head Keeper and told him I was on my way to see Wilson — he could either come home with me today, or stay on with his Mum and family if he preferred. 

The Head Keeper said he'd pass my message on, so I jumped into the car and set off.

Imagine my surprise when I stopped to gas-up the car and saw this parked on the forecourt! 

Goodness knows what it cost... but I'm sure I'll find out when my VISA bill arrives!

Ant Wars II: HOMECOMING

I think I'll drive out to the zoo tomorrow to see whether Wilson is ready to come home. 

I've tried to call him a few times, but his Mum Mrs Vermilingua's telephone is constantly engaged. 

I've received a couple of Tweets from him, so I know he's okay, but I'm really starting to miss him now...

BACK SOON!

When I got back from driving Wilson to the Zoo, I found he'd left a note for you magnetted to the fridge door...

SWEARING A SOLEMN OATH

Before we left for the Zoo, everyone had to swear on a bowl of spaghetti (it's some sort of Pastafarian oath thing) that they will look after, water and generally protect his Tomato Farm while he's away.

Then Wilson went round to say goodbye to his tomato plants before reluctantly climbing into the back of the car and waving farewell to everyone. 

Even Uncle Z turned out to see him off!

As we drove away, I noticed W putting up a poster in the rear window...

FAMILY VISIT

'Before we think about holidays,' I replied, 'it's that time of year when you visit your family at the zoo. Reconnect with your Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, and meet all your new half-brothers and -sisters!'

'Don't make me go, New Dad!' he groaned. ' My Mum, Mrs V, has only got FOUR tv channels, and they're all black-and-white! And dial-up internet! There's no Wi-Fi!'

'Come on,' I said encouragingly, 'you'll love seeing your Big Sister Andrea again, and little Byron!'

He regarded me doubtfully.

'Honestly,' he said, 'this is a bad time for me to leave; I'm about to apply for an EU Farm Subsidy for my tomato farm!'

'And as soon as you get back,' I continued, 'we'll go on a proper holiday — I promise!'

I think that has tipped the balance — I'll phone the zoo and get them to tell Mrs V to expect him at the weekend...

THE JOY OF FARMING

Wilson is now relaxing in the garden, reflecting on how his tomatoes are doing all the work while he has only to sit back and wait to become rich. 

I think there's a little bit more to farming than that, but he seems confident. 

As he rocks gently back and forth on the swinging seat, he asked me whether I would like a holiday.

'I might do...' I replied cautiously — I've learned not to commit myself when answering that kind of question when Wilson is asking it.

'Because I rather fancy another trip to Liverpool,' he continued, 'as I really need to touch base with The Beatles!'

I cast my mind back to our last trip to Liverpool — enjoyable and fun but freezing cold; even the pigeons on the banks of the Mersey were wearing little scarves and shivering.

TOMATO FARM

As soon as we got home from the Garden Centre, Wilson hurried out into the garden to establish his Tomato Farm next to his Museum.

His 'Farm' consists of two polythene 'greenhouses' that each accommodate a GrowBag of compost and about three plants. 

Supervised by The Bees, he is carefully transplanting the seedlings into the compost and watering them in. As he plants them, he is talking to them — explaining that this is their new home and he hopes they'll be happy here. I suppose if talking to plants is good enough for Celebrity Eccentric Prince Charles, it's good enough for Wilson.

W says that his 'greenhouses' will protect the tomato plants against changes in temperature, but he will worry about garden pests and what he calls 'Tomato Rustlers' until his 'Guard Piglet' is in place.

TOMATOES ARE THE WAY FORWARD

For reasons which I can't even begin to comprehend, Wilson has decided that what he 'needs' to do, 'immediately' is grow some tomato plants.

Consequently I was whisked off the the local Garden Centre to buy some tomato seedlings. 

We bought what seemed to me an excessive number of plants, but W insisted that he knew what he was doing, and this was the optimum number to meet our forthcoming tomato needs.

On the drive home, he mentioned that what would be the perfect addition to his 'tomato farm' would be a pet piglet. This would apparently supply all the tomatoes' compost needs, in addition to keeping down their natural predators...

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Very sorry there was no post yesterday, due to a major computer crisis. :(

BIT OF A PROBLEM!

Due to a major computer failure, I can't post any 'Ant Wars 2' updates for the moment. ☹️

Don't worry, Wilson is fine (although he blames me for the Computer Crisis. Obviously) and we'll be back on-line as soon as possible.

THE CALMING POWER OF CAKE

We retired to the farm café where I attempted to calm Wilson down with a cup of strong coffee and a Belgian Bun. 

He sat quietly for a while, absently sprinkling ants over his food, before asking me, 'Do you think it was like that when I was born, New Dad?'

I told him it probably was. He thought for a few minutes, then said, 'I thought I knew all about being born, because I helped my Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, with all her babies after me — but it wasn't all yucky like that!'

'How did you help her?' I asked.

'Well, he replied, ' I sat in the kitchen doing some colouring-in and keeping out of the way, while my Big Sister, Andrea, ran about with towels and hot water. And told me not to worry. Or go into the bedroom...' 

He drifted into silence.

'Is that what was happening in the bedroom?' he asked. I nodded.

'Eeeuw!' he exclaimed. 

But then, with the resilience I have come to expect from anteaters, he tucked into his bun and drained his coffee cup.

Smacking his lips and dusting crumbs out of his fur, he asked me one last question: 'So, what do you think about a pet pig? He'd be adorable, and I'd walk him and clean him and feed him and everything!'

I told him I'd think about it.

I think we all know what that means...

BIRTH TRAUMA

Just after Wilson had finished feeding the baby piglet, we heard a commotion coming from the next shed.

Hurrying out to see what was going on, we arrived in time to see a ewe in the very late stages of labour. There was a lot of frenzied bleating, and then a baby lamb popped out into the straw!

I turned to see what Wilson had made of The Miracle of Birth, but he had collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint.

I made him as comfortable as I could, and the shepherd kindly ran off to the café to bring him some water and see if he could find any ants in the yard.

As W began to come round, he started humming Broken, Beat and Scarred from Metallica's Death Magnetic album. This was the very music his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, had played as Wilson's Birthing Music. Also, his Conceiving music, as it happens — she only had two records, and Death Magnetic was her favourite.

This makes me think that W is experiencing some sort of Rebirthing Trauma. 

I hope I don't have to take him to see his psychiatrist again — he's quite expensive.

BEES' BLOG

Hello, we are Polly and Billi The Bees, and this is our Guest Blog!

Well, what do you think of our new 'set'? We thought it was time, since we have such important messages, to increase our professionalism, so we bought some Banner Displays to stand in front of, just like Politicians! And Police Chiefs!

This month, our message concerns Dandelions!

Dandelions are one of the first Spring foods for bees! Dandelions are native to all temperate areas of the planet, providing nectar and pollen as early warmer temperatures awaken bees — where else can a hungry bee find an early meal in the Spring, when nothing else is blooming?

Also, dandelions are very pretty and a cheerful colour — don't think of them as 'weeds' but as wildflowers that are easy to grow. If they were difficult to grow, you'd ALL be trying to cultivate them!

We'll see you again next month — until then BEEEEEEEEE GOOD!

PIGLET TIME

Once we got inside the farm, and Wilson had been assured that the sheep wouldn't bite him, he started handing out sheep food to all and sundry. He even tried it himself, but decided it 'needs more ants' — his standard criticism of any food he doesn't like.

There were not only sheep and lambs on the farm but also calves, foals, a baby piglet and his mummy, field mice, chickens and a farm cat. Wilson isn't  quite certain whether cats like him, but he offered this one some sheep food, which it refused.

Later the farmer invited him to bottle-feed some lambs, an opportunity W jumped at. Afterwards he told me they were 'Mighty little suckers!' who had all but pulled the bottles from his paws.

Then he fed the baby piglet, which was adorable.

When we get home, I'm expecting a campaign for W to be allowed a baby pig. Having seen the piglet's mother, who is the size of a small family car, I shall resist these requests with all my might!

Finally, The Bees have asked me to remind you that it will be time for their Guest Blog tomorrow, and they've amped up the experience to a new, more professional level. Whatever that means — they are still tight-lipped about exactly what will happen!

Anyway, find out what transpired in the rest of our trip to the farm the day after tomorrow — see you then!

SHEEP FARM

Today, as I'd promised, I took Wilson to our local Sheep Petting Farm.

He was so excited that by the time I'd parked the car and made my way to the entrance he had already bought our tickets and a bag of Sheep Food, and was standing outside shouting, 'Hurry up, New Dad! Hurry up! The baby lambs are waiting for me to feed them!'

I hope our visit takes his mind off waiting for comedians to reply to his emails asking whether they wanted to buy some of his jokes...

NEW SCHEDULE EXPLAINED

Wilson is busy emailing comedians to see whether they want to buy any of his jokes, while The Bees have banned everyone from entering the dining room because they are preparing for their 'extra special' Guest Blog on Sunday. 

Which leaves me, for once, at a bit of a loose end. So I thought I'd take this opportunity to explain why you've been seeing fewer stories about Wilson lately.

Anyone who has looked after young children knows what hard work it is, and taking care of young Wilson is like trying to keep toddler triplets out of trouble in a working sawmill with no safety guards: it's a 24/7 job!

So recently, I've been posting W's adventures just five days a week instead of seven, which leaves me Tuesdays and Thursdays to get on with my own work. I hope you understand.

This weekend I plan to take W to a local sheep farm to see some lambs being born — I'm sure he'll love it. 

He'll either love it, or he'll be so shocked he will have to see his therapist again...