STREET PARTY

Today is HM The Queen's Official 90th Birthday, and the day of Street Parties up and down the country. Probably.

Wilson was up much of the night making more fairy cakes as he and Byron had eaten all those he baked yesterday.

However, by a happy coincidence today is also National Gin Day, and he has plentiful supplies of that. 

I understand the Queen is partial to a gin or two (certainly her late sister and mother both were) so it's an entirely appropriate tipple for the party.

W told me that after a couple of Gin Cocktails no one would notice the lack of food, but I popped into Waitrose in the village and bought some extra snacks anyway — I don't want the little ones drinking too much with nothing to soak it up. 

Also Diesel the Goldfish is a bit of an unknown quantity once there's gin in his water...

THE QUEEN'S 90TH BIRTHDAY

What with all the unpleasantness and disappointment surrounding his OBE, Wilson is not a great Royalist... but he is also not one to willingly pass up the chance of a party!

Therefore he has put aside his differences with the Royal Family and is now preparing to hold a Street Party tomorrow, the Queen's Official 90th Birthday.

He's busy in the kitchen with the Bees, cooking some red, white and blue Fairy Cakes... while trying to balance his Chef's Hat on his head!

LEAFLETTING

I let Wilson and Byron stay up late last night to watch the launch of the new series of Big Brother.

Byron said he'd never seen anything like it in his entire life, and humanity has gone down in his estimation!

Anyway, they both had a bit of a lie-in this morning, but after breakfast they popped into the village to collect their leaflets from the Printer and started handing them out to the tomato-eating public.

I just hope W's publicity doesn't peak too soon — so far he hasn't actually got ANY tomatoes, and I think it will be some weeks before his crop is ripe and ready to pick...

GRAPHIC DESIGN TEAM

Wilson and Byron are working on the iMac, designing a flyer and business card for the PYO Tomato Farm. 

Apart from a minor disagreement about fonts (resolved by them both sticking their tongues out as far as they would go) they're playing together nicely.

There has been no further mention of tongue-extending exercises nor of 'stretching devices' and I am certainly not about to raise the subject!

TONGUE CONTEST

While settling an argument by means of a 'Who's Got The Longest Tongue' ant eating competition in the garden, I overheard Byron remark that, even for a human, I appeared to have an unusually short tongue.

Well really — I can confidently state for the record that I've never had any complaints!

So I was shocked when Wilson replied that he had been worried about it for some time, though he hadn't liked to mention it to me for fear of hurting my feelings.

Byron suggested that I might benefit from some tongue-stretching exercises. 

W agreed, and said that if they didn't work, he would devise some kind of tongue stretching apparatus for me to wear at night. 

I REALLY don't like the sound of this!

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...