Preparing to drive to the zoo, Byron climbed into the car straight away (to ensure that we didn’t leave without him) while Wilson strode around the car inspecting the tyres critically.
He advised me, ’These tyres would be a lot more durable if you’d let me fill them with rubber instead of air, New Dad!’
After a moment’s thought, he added, ‘Actually, those Traction Engine tyres were so hard, I think concrete might be an even better option!’
As The Bees and their children waved us off from the front window, we embarked on our journey to the zoo – and whatever awaits us there…
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There is no Wi-Fi at the zoo, so I don’t know when I’ll hear from Wilson next – probably when he phones to be brought home.
Of course, I’ll tell you if I hear anything, but he’ll probably be incommunicado for several days at least…
Wilson has received a phone call from his big sister Andrea summoning him and Byron urgently back to the Zoo.
Byron is busy packing his things, while Wilson – who for some reason thinks I could at any moment spring a Surprise Holiday on him at short notice – keeps a ‘Go-Bag’ ready at all times.
For once, that might prove useful!
Since the original call, W has received a follow-up SMS asking him to bring with him his Spoons and Kazoo.
As his case is already filled to bursting, he asked Byron whether he could slip them into his case, subject to B not using them in any way. Obviously.
Spoons and Kazoo, eh? This can mean only one thing!
Once we were back home, relaxing after the excitement of the Steam Fair, Wilson and Byron sat chatting quietly in the garden.
Wilson was explaining, in excruciating detail, the manifold advantages of his new invention, ‘Vermilingua’s Totally Unpuncturable Tyres for Cars and Bicycles’ while Byron made valiant efforts to feign interest and not yawn.
Things were complicated by Uncle Zoltan’s constant interruptions claiming that the Pneumatic Tyre had been invented by one of his forefathers, Maksymilian Dunlop Zoltan, but both boys were doing their best to ignore him.
Just as W was outlining the concept of filling conventional tyres with rubber instead of air, his phone rang – it was a call from Andrea, his Big Sister at the zoo, saying that both the boys were required at home.
She assured him that everything was okay and his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, was perfectly well, but requested both boys to return home, if possible by the weekend…
We’ve eaten ice creams, we’ve tested our strength, we’ve ridden on a roundabout, we’ve admired a weird car – now, at long last, we’re looking at a Steam Traction Engine!
The boys were strangely unimpressed.
Byron was obsessed with what was inside the wooden box fixed to the back (W had told him it was the driver’s lunch box, and was probably filled with ants) while Wilson studied the solid tyres and wondered whether he could invent something along those lines and sell them as ‘Vermilingua’s Totally Unpuncturable Tyres for Cars and Bicycles’…
Moving on, the boys were still full of talk about how they would buy a Robin Reliant Halftrack between them when they were a bit older.
Byron blushed when Wilson told him that such a car would be a ‘total chick magnet’ and said they’d be able to go on double dates in it.
Passing a Classic Cars Roundabout ride, they both pleaded for a go. I handed over £4 and they selected the cars they wanted to ride.
There was a lot of arguing about who should drive the frontmost car as they rightly predicted that ‘Overtaking will be extremely difficult, if not impossible – even worse than at Monaco!’
Grid Positioning was eventually settled by means of a lightning-fast ant-hunting contest.
Once seated they pretended they were driving not classic vintage motors or F1 racers but ‘The coolest cars in the World’ – Robin Reliant Halftracks…
As we made our way back to the main arena, we passed a small but unusual car.
Wilson ran over to it, and announced that this was his ‘Dream Car’ – the car he wanted to own when he grew up and was old enough to drive – and Byron agreed.
It had never occurred to me that a Robin Reliant would ever be anyone’s Dream Car – but then, I’d never before seen a Robin Reliant halftrack.
The boys walked round it several times, declaring it to be ‘Way Cool’ and ‘Awesome’.
I could appreciate that it would be good over rough terrain, and that if W were driving he probably wouldn’t be able to exceed any speed limits, but beyond that its appeal rather eluded me.
It must be my age.
Or my love of comfort in a car…
Next on the boys’ list of Things To Do was to win a prize on a Test Your Strength stall.
As it happened, the mallet was too heavy for them even to lift unless they carried it between them, so they appealed to me to demonstrate my virility and win a prize for them.
It will probably come as no surprise to you to learn that this demonstration of muscularity on my part ended ignominiously – the bell did not ring, although I did get seriously out of breath and had to have a bit of a sit down on the grass.
I’m not certain, but I thought I saw a fleeting look of disappointment pass briefly across Wilson’s face.
Anyway, I took the lads off to see some of the traction engines, and promised them something nice in the Refreshments Tent later…
As soon as the boys had consumed their ice-creams, they turned their attention to the Steam Organ by the entrance.
It played wonderful tunes, old and new, and the lads were transfixed.
Wilson went so far as to ask whether we could sell our television and buy a steam organ instead!
I pointed out that he wouldn’t be able to watch any of his favourite TV shows on a steam organ – Spiral… Dr Who… Jeremy Kyle…
W admitted that would be a bit of a problem, and said he might try to build his own steam organ in his ‘Museum’.
I guess I’d better keep a close watch on the kettle in the kitchen…
After we’d parked the car in a field and were making our way towards the entrance, there was a lot of noise, and I hoped the boys wouldn’t be overwhelmed or scared by everything that was going on.
Just inside the showground we were greeted by a mechanical Steam Organ and a Brass Band, each trying to outdo the other, plus a constant background noise of escaping high-pressure steam, and steam whistles and hooters.
Also a wonderful smell of burning coal such as I’d barely experienced since my childhood.
But the boys were completely unfazed by the noise, the crowds and commotion – they ran off to buy themselves ice-creams, saying that they couldn’t possibly enjoy the experience until they’d consumed some sugar and some chilled fat…
I’m sorry about the short notice, but there won’t be any blog today – as the weather is so lovely, I’m taking Wilson and Byron to a local Steam Fair at Tinkers Park!
I’ve never been before, but I’m really looking forward to it, and I think the boys are going to LOVE it!
Wilson returned from the village clutching a bottle of ‘Dry Shampoo’ – a fine white powder indistinguishable from Talcum Powder, except by its price – which he proceeded to empty over his head.
Now he is covered not only with soot, ash and smuts, but also with a fine white powder which seems reluctant to come off.
It has proved resistant to brushing, so Nërp is giving him the once-over with the vacuum cleaner, which W says tickles intolerably.
Byron, having showered, is fluffy, fragrant and cuddly – I’m wondering whether Wilson wouldn’t have found it easier to do the same.
Or, indeed, whether he will eventually have to shower to get the Dry Shampoo out…
Hello there! This is Polly and Billi The Bees and today being the first of the month, this is our Guest Blog!
As you know, we usually talk about life and death issues affecting bees worldwide – pesticides, insecticides, honey recipes and so on – but you know what? For June we’ve decided to lighten up, kick back and just have some fun.
So here’s a nice Bee-Related Poster for you to print out and put on your bedroom wall next to your David Cassidy and Morten Harket posters, or on the notice board where you work.
If you’ve got a computer, you could even use it as wallpaper!
We’re looking forward to being very busy bees during June – we just hope the sun shines like it’s supposed to, so we can make LOADS of lovely Honey!
So, we’ve been The Bees, and we’ll see you again next month.
Until then, BEEEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
Following the fireworks experiments, everyone involved is covered in soot, ash and smuts, and generally in need of a long, hot shower.
Byron is in the bathroom showering – he trotted off good as gold as soon as I suggested it. He’s a lovely lad!
Wilson, on the other hand, ran outside and locked himself inside his Museum, refusing to come out until I lifted the threat of a shower.
After about half an hour, he sent me a message saying that he had been ‘Starved into submission’ and was now ‘willing to negotiate – under duress.’
The compromise on which we have agreed is that he pops into the village to buy some ‘Dry Shampoo’ which he assures me is ‘Just as good as ordinary shampoo – probably even better!’ but avoids him having to get wet.
Nërp is worried about short-circuiting and/or going rusty if he gets wet, so the bees are brushing him down in the kitchen.
Wilson had originally intended to write his big sister’s name, Andrea, in smoke, but said that six letters would use up all his ingredients.
Consequently, he’s going to honour his R&D team by attempting to produce the letters W, B and N – his, Byron’s and Nërp’s initials.
The three letters did indeed appear, but after a minute the garden was completely engulfed in acrid, choking smoke, making the letters impossible to see.
A couple of Wilson’s friends have mentioned that Daylight Fireworks have already been invented.
I mentioned this to W, but he was dismissive, asking, ‘Haven’t they seen my Smokeworks Unique Selling Point? Can their so-called daylight fireworks spell out names and words? I think not!’
But right now, just to err on the side of caution, he’s in the house Googling for a good No-Win, No-Fee Intellectual Property Solicitor.
Uh-oh – I’ve just heard the siren of an approaching fire engine! I’ll pour some sand over the smouldering Smokeworks, then I’m off to hide indoors.
I think I’ll lock all the doors and pretend we’re out…
Wilson, with the help of Byron and Nërp, continues to develop his Patent Pending Daylight Fireworks.
‘I shall call them SmokeWorks®™ New Dad!’ he told me brightly.
As the smoke began to clear, Nërp handed Wilson the MkII Smokework. He placed it carefully in the fire bucket and lit the fuse.
Before long, what looked very like a percentage sign materialised in the air.
I was impressed, and said as much to Wilson, who beamed happily while explaining that the ‘%’ sign is the hardest letter to do. ‘If I can do a “%”’, he told me, ‘I can do anything!’
I hope the MkIII SmokeWork is about deodorising the terrible, choking miasma they give off…
The fuse fizzed for a few moments, then a thin wisp of smoke emerged.
We all held our breath in excited anticipation, and we were not disappointed – within a few moments a surprising quantity of smoke began to gush out of the firework, accompanied by of a terrible, acrid stench of what smelled like burning socks and car tyres.
If the purpose of this test was for Wilson to satisfy himself that he can make a firework that generates smoke, I suppose it should be deemed a success.
I quizzed W about the ingredients of his Daylight Firework – at first he was evasive, claiming that the ingredients were a ‘Trade Secret’ and his ‘Intellectual Property’ – but eventually he confessed that the Active Component is... old socks and shredded car tyres…
Phase One of Wilson’s new project – the invention and development of what he calls ‘Daylight Fireworks’ is apparently a Proof Of Concept; he has to prove to himself that he can make a firework that produces smoke.
The boys went out into the garden with W’s MkI firework and stood it in a bucket of sand. Then Wilson, warily and at arm’s length, applied a match to the blue touch-paper and quickly retired to what he hoped was a safe distance.
The fuse fizzed for a few moments, then a thin wisp of smoke emerged.
We all held our breath in excited anticipation…
Nërp has posed for a Life Portrait on the Museum wall.
‘Spray-paint me like one of your French robots!’ he said, ‘but with bigger muscles.’
Admiring the finished work, Nërp turned to Wilson and said, ‘It’s very good. Thank you. Very good, but… do I really look so stern and unsmiling? I’d always imagined I had a bit more of the debonaire “Johnny 5” look about me…’
Owing to our rapidly-diminishing supply of walls, this will have to be one of Wilson’s last Graffiti Masterworks – unless he starts painting over the old ones…
Wilson assures me that this Royal Wedding Souvenir Tea Towel is ‘Ideal for drying your Royal Wedding Souvenir Mug!’ – but he advises not rubbing too hard in case the picture comes off the mug.
Or, come to that, the tea towel.
Wilson had been undecided about whether to market his Grass Jam as Royal Wedding Souvenir Duchy Original Lucky Grass Jam.
It’s not been a great success due to it tasting terrible – and he’d even considered trying to sell it to cattle farmers for their cows to have on toast for breakfast – but as he pointed out, ‘Committed Royalists will buy any Commemorative Tat as long as it’s marketed properly!’
He explained to me, ‘They probably wouldn’t even open the jar – they’d put it on display in the china cabinet then forget about it until their children turn up clutching it on the “Antiques Road Show” or “Dickinson’s Real Deal”…’
In the end, though, good taste prevailed, and the grass jam remains in Wilson’s Museum Gift Shop.
Speaking for myself, I was pretty much Royal Wedding’d out by the time the Happy Couple had driven round Windsor and returned to the castle.
Wilson, though, is made of sterner stuff – he, Byron and Nërp erected some trestles in front of the house and proceeded to organise a Street Party, loading the table with leftover food from The Happy Ant Diner – some of it still in date!
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For those of you who may not know what a Street Party is, at times of great national celebration residents set up tables and chairs in their street and lay on a free party for everyone – particularly children.
This may be what Americans refer to as a Block Party – I don't know.
I thought they started after the end of World Was II, but they apparently date back quite a bit earlier than that:
http://www.streetparty.org.uk/history.aspx
