Today being World Honeybee Day (as opposed to World Bee Day and World Don't-Step-On-A-Bee Day earlier this month) we were just preparing a little party to welcome Newbie the New Bee to our little family, when the postman called with a Registered Delivery for me.
It was a letter from Messrs I Can't Believe It's A Solicitor plc on behalf of their client, W Vermilingua Esq.
The letter says that I am to be charged the sum of £2.00 for my four unlicensed uses of the word 'and' in yesterday's blog, and advising me that not only should I expect to be invoiced the sum of 50p for each future unlicensed use, I should in future always write the word as follows: 'and™'.
I looked at Wilson and said, 'You've registered the word "And" – and you're trying to charge me every time I use it? Really? That's an outrage!'
'I should probably have mentioned that to you,' he replied, 'But allow me to explain:
(1) I think you mean "and™",
(2) if you're going to flout the law, you should expect to pay the price, and™ finally
(3) I didn't want to mention this, but you owe me another £1 for your last sentence!'
Uncle Zoltan then appeared, as if on cue, read through my letter and™ pronounced it '200 per cent legal – you've no option but to pay up, Wilson's New Dad – or face Jail Time!'
Byron shuffled about looking awkward and™ embarrassed.
I glared at Wilson, but Uncle Z continued, 'Of course I have some experience in these matters, and™ I would happily represent you in court for a… well, a trifling fee, but as my client I should probably advise you that in all likelihood you'll go down!'
Acknowledging my agitation, Wilson told me, 'Calm down, New Dad – why don't you take a couple of your Zyquako Tablets? You know how much better they make you feel!'
Polly and Billi are a bit later home than they expected, having had to post Bail for Uncle Z after he got into a fight with someone over an Insect-O-Cutor on a café wall…
Anyway, when everyone left Uckfield Station, I counted them out, and today I counted them back… and there was one left over – Polly and Billi were accompanied by a supernumary bee!
Wilson regarded the interloper and, not being one to beat about the bush, demanded, 'What's that on it's face?'
Polly answered, saying sternly, 'It's not an "it", it's a "She"! Oh, I mean she's a "She"! Anyway, although she's clearly not the Turkish Bee, we all agreed it might be best if she wore a little gas mask until her Quarantine Period is over.'
'That's right,' replied the new bee, her voice muffled through the respirator but with a clearly recognisable Bristol accent, 'Just to err on the side of caution. Please don't worry, it's not terribly uncomfortable…'
Wilson addressed her, in a loud, slow voice: 'Hello. Little. Bee – Do. You. Speak. English? Have. You. Got. A. Name?'
The new bee nodded and shook her head in answer to the questions.
'In that case,' W declared, 'I shall call you "Newbie", for you are a New Bee!'
The Bees and Uncle Z's return appears to have been delayed – Kew is lovely at this time of year, so I expect they've decided to extend their stay… although it would be good if they'd let us know.
To pass the time until they get here, Wilson has been into the village to buy a picture frame, and has mounted and framed Monday's Front Page of The Sun, in which the three Freedom Fighters are featured – after all, it's not every day a family member makes Front Page News!
Not in a Good way, anyway…
I hope Polly and Billi and Uncle Zoltan get home soon – otherwise I shall feel very embarrassed calling the Police to report what can only be described as… well, two missing bees and a hornet!
Although I'm comforting myself with the thought that the Missing Persons Bureau probably gets calls like that all the time…
I wouldn't like you to think I buy this dreadful rag, but Sky News shows all the Front Pages in its All Out Politics show, which I watch every morning over breakfast.
You can imagine how surprised I was to see Polly and Billi's little faces gazing out at me from the screen – I nearly choked on my Granola!
Of course we're all tremendously proud, although I think Wilson might be a tiny bit put out that The Sun didn't mention him… or his Drug-Naming Business… his ODDSIES! sock-hire venture or any of his other (failed) business enterprises, come to that.
However, The Bees have achieved what they set out to do – they have drawn everyone's attention to the plight of the Death Row Bee, and although a reprieve has not yet been granted at least it is free for now.
Technically I suppose the more accurate description would be 'On the run', although Polly says that a Free Pardon is 'probably' only hours away.
A sense of unease has descended on the house – I think we're all worried about how The Bees are getting on in London.
They're both Country Girls, so are completely unprepared for Big City Life and, to be honest, a little bit naïve – while Uncle Zoltan's Bad Attitude could get him into all sorts of trouble!
While Wilson paced up and down in the garden, halfheartedly trying to teach a simple trick to a group of passing ants, Byron attempted to distract me by challenging me to a game of What Ant Is It?
I really tried to concentrate, but no matter how hard I stared all the ants on my side of the board looked identical, so I lost three games in a row.
I didn't even know what sort of questions to ask – 'Does this ant have a sticky-out bit on its, um, middle bit?' seemed somehow lacking in insight.
Byron was very kind, but I fear I may have gone down a little in his estimation.
LATER:
Billi has just phoned to say they are all okay and had been to Number Ten.
She said they were going to visit Kew Gardens tomorrow, so we shouldn't expect them back until Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on the weather, and sent their love to everyone – especially their children Johnson Major and Johnson Minor, ending the call by shouting, 'Free The Bee! Right On!'.
Polly and Billie The Bees are travelling up to London with Uncle Zoltan to confront the Prime Minister about the 'Turkish' bee under sentence of death.
Polly has organised what she describes as a Massive March for Justice to Downing Street, hoping to persuade DEFRA to lift the death sentence on this innocent apian.
As they await the arrival of the train to London, I imagine they're all feeling the mixture of excitement and apprehension that I used to feel when I set out on an Aldermaston March ☮️ in the 1960s…
Only a few days after announcing the start of the new Bee Football Season, it has been cancelled!
Billi says she can't possibly countenance playing 'some stupid game' while innocent bees are under sentence of death by the Government.
Polly has organised an on-line petition urging DEFRA* to check it's facts and lift the death sentence imposed on the supposedly-Turkish Bee.
Uncle Zoltan has typed a strongly-worded letter to the MP for Bristol (where the bee was last seen) pointing out that Capital Punishment was abolished in Great Britain in 1965, and that the officials at DEFRA couldn't find their own Spiracles using both Tarsi!
Uncle Z certainly doesn't pull his punches – I hope he hasn't overstepped the mark here…
If she wants my advice, Theresa Villiers MP, Head of DEFRA, would be well advised to capitulate now, because once Billi's got her mandibles into something – particularly a social injustice – she doesn't let go!
However, while Polly and her colleagues were preparing little protest banners for a march on Parliament, news arrived that the Turkish Bee has escaped!
*DEFRA = Department for Environment, Food & Rural Affairs
When the boys and I arrived home from the village, we found both The Bees in a terrible state!
I had made the mistake of leaving the tv tuned to a News Channel, and Billi had seen an item about a Turkish bee being condemned to death – by the British Government!
Polly was in floods of tears, while Billi was incandescent with rage!
I found this entire tale very difficult to believe, but on checking it out I discovered that the facts as outlined to me were substantially correct:
https://globalnews.ca/news/5706637/turkish-bee-sentenced-to-death/
'The worst thing is,' Billi raged, 'the Turkish Bee is endangered – and our government wants to kill it! But', she paused for breath, 'the bee isn't even Turkish! The Government says it's an Osmia Avosetta, but even the most stunted of intellects can see it's a Megachile Centuncularis!'
She threw up her tarsi in despair.
I will freely admit, I'm no Bee Expert (I can't even tell Polly and Billi apart, except for their personalities) but Billi is an undisputed expert in her field, and if she says it's a Megachile Centuncularis – then that's unarguably what it is!
Everyone was pretty drained after an entire weekend of virtual space travel, so leaving the younger children in the care of Polly and Billi I took Wilson and Byron into the village to get some fresh air and relax.
Byron asked whether we could have a look in the book shop as he wanted to buy a book on the Moon Landings with his pocket money.
Guess what I found while they were browsing in the Non-Fiction and Cookery sections respectively!
Both Wilson and Byron are quite unusual names so, thinking this was too good an opportunity to miss, I bought both books as a little surprise for later.
As we were driving home Wilson mentioned that, following Liverpool's attempt to trademark the word 'Liverpool' he was considering attempting something similar himself.
I smiled indulgently, and asked what word he had in mind.
'Biro and me are still considering what word would be best…' he replied. 'We've got several brilliant words on the shortlist, but I think it best to keep them under wraps for now!'
'Yes, they're Top Secret!' Byron confirmed…
Not content with building a replica of the Lunar Lander for Wilson and Byron, Nërp has somehow also constructed a facsimile of Houston Control, for the other children!
There's even an intercom so they can communicate with the 'Eagle Lander', and Nërp has now taken on the role of Michael Collins, the Astronaut who remained in the Lunar Orbiter.
Pterry is even starting to join in – he keeps shouting 'Roger, Twank*' and giggling uncontrollably!
However, he seems incapable of addressing Wilson as 'Buzz' (whether this references Buzz Aldrin or Lightyear is unclear) instead always calling him Mummy, which Wilson insists is causing some unwelcome amusement amongst the other crew members (ie Byron) – which he fears might possibly lead to an eventual breakdown of discipline…
_________
*In the excitement of the lander finally touching down on the lunar surface, Mission Control's exact words were:
'Roger, Twank...Tranquility, we copy you on the ground. You got a bunch of guys about to turn blue here. We're breathing again. Thanks a lot!'
Pterry finds this small slip of the tongue extremely amusing, and will not let it go!
Nërp has been working all night, and the Apollo 11 Lunar Lander Simulator 'EAGLE' is now completed – and I must say he's made a remarkable job of it!
I don't know whether all the buttons and controls actually do anything, but they all press and click, and look totally authentic – Wilson and Byron are thrilled!
The Simulator is set up in the living room in front of the tv, on which Nërp is showing videos of the lunar landscape to increase the immersiveness of the experience.
In the interests of authenticity, Nërp has decided to remain outside Eagle, as there were only two astronauts present during the actual landing – but he's keeping an eye on everything through the little windows in the Lander, and calling out answers to any questions the boys have, while observing strict communication protocols: he won't answer unless the question is preceded by, 'Tranquility Base to Houston,' and pauses to simulate the time delay for the signal to travel from the Moon to the Earth and back again.
To keep tension to a minimum, he is also streaming a performance of Katie Paterson's 2007 piano piece, 'Earth-Moon-Earth' – although were it me a million miles from home, I would find its constant intermittent silences a tiny bit unnerving…
Whenever either of the boys has to leave the Lander (for a comfort break, say, or to top-up with Cheesy Wotsits) they say, 'That's One Small Step for an Anteater – One Giant Leap for Anteater-kind!', and they've set up two flags on sticks, claiming the living room jointly for Uckfield and Costa Rica.
Bless…
Wilson and Byron have seen the younger children having a lot of fun playing in the little Lunar Lander Simulator Nërp built for them, and have requested something similar – but larger – for themselves.
Nërp has happily agreed, gratified to be bringing Science, Engineering and Astrophysics into their lives.
While Nërp is working on the Simulator, the boys are trying to pass the time by playing a version of Who Is It? which they've adapted to use pictures of various species of ants in place of the cartoon portraits usually used.
They call this game What Ant Is It? and I can hear them asking each other questions.
Questions like:
'Does this ant have bifurcated tarsi?',
'Does this ant have a peppery taste?',
'Do you think Nërp will be much longer building our Simulator?'
and so on.
Occasionally one or other of them will call out, 'Nërp! How's the Simulator going – is it nearly finished yet?' to which Nërp will reply (with the patience apparently available only to non-humans) 'It's coming along very well, thank you for asking – I've just installed the Thruster Servo Controllers, then I'm going adjust the Flux Capacitors, for which I will need absolute silence, if you'd be so kind…'
Obviously we were very upset when the British Lionesses got knocked out of the World Cup, but now that the nicer weather has arrived we're re-forming our Uckfield Bees Football Club!
We were going to rename our little team the British Bee-esses, in honour of the British Lionesses, but it's a bit difficult to say – especially in footy chants – so we've decided instead on Uckfield Queen Bees FC!
🐝 SCIENCE NEWS:
Scientists are 'Surprised' that bees can Learn, Remember and Match Symbols. How stupid – if scientists had bothered to ask, we could have told them that, and challenged them to a game of football!
https://apple.news/AfiJr3qzCRAmSu42mIyCYXw
🐝 WORLD NEWS:
Utrecht in Holland is planting grass and wildflowers on the roofs of city bus shelters, to help bees!
And in Sweden, McDonalds has opened a restaurant just for bees!
We know fast food is bad for you, but it would be such a treat to take our boys Johnson and Johnson to a McDonalds and not have all the other customers swatting us away – it doesn't make us feel very welcome when we're having a family day out!
https://apple.news/AKylWUsG1TamIlwsGZrUjZA
https://bgr.com/2019/05/25/mcdonalds-for-bees-worlds-smallest-sweden/
So anyway, we've been The Bees and we'll see you all next month for more Bee-related news and updates!
Until then, BEEEEEEEEEEEEE GOOD!
Nërp was very impressed by how well his Lunar Lander Demonstrations were received at the recent Moon Landing Party, and now he's in the kitchen building a Lunar Lander Module Simulator out of cardboard for the younger children to play in – he's very keen to encourage an interest in science and STEM subjects in everyone, no matter how young. Or sentient…
Antony (who is actually in charge of the Sellotape Machine – tearing off short lengths and handing them to Nërp as required!), TinyToy (currently dozing in Nërp's tool box – I think it all got too overwhelming for him) and the Johnson Brothers are very excited, and while Pterry doesn't really know what's going on, he has taken quite a shine to his 'Uncle Nërp'.
Perhaps when Nërp's niece arrives they'll be able to play together?
The business cards for the Drug Naming Services company Wilson and Byron have started have just been delivered!
He's really pushed the boat out this time, using heavy cream stock with an embossed finish, spot varnish and red metallic foil because, as he explained, 'Image is everything in the Big Pharma game!'
Halfway through showing everyone his cards, something about Liverpool came on the news – W paused, raising his paw for silence.
The news item was an unlikely story about Liverpool Football Club trying to trademark the word Liverpool!
I scoffed, saying that they had no chance of trademarking a word that had existed untroubled for more than 800 years… although I have seen some shocking (AKA Stupid) decisions taken recently, so perhaps I shouldn't be too confident!
Wilson has no interest in football, but having been to Liverpool on holiday a few years ago, I suppose he might be interested in anything about the beautiful city… although perhaps I should now have referred to the Birthplace of the Beatles as:
Liverpool™
As soon as yesterday's Press Conference ended, Wilson passed me a bottle of pills labelled Zyquako Tablets and told me to take one.
I was hesitant to accept, but he assured me, 'It's okay – they're free!'
'But what are they?' I asked.
'Who knows?' he replied, 'I found them in the bathroom cabinet and re-labelled them – but with a great name like Zyquako, they're certain to make you feel better. I know I feel better just reading the label!'
I declined his kind offer, but he persisted.
'Look, they were already in your bathroom cabinet so you were probably taking them anyway – or at least, somebody you knew was – so what harm can they do? Neck a couple of them, say how great they are and point out to your readers how they wouldn't have done you half as much good if they didn't have an awesome name like Zyquako™ (©2019 Vermilingua+Associates DNS Services)! It's not a lot to ask…'
Opening the bottle I shook out a couple of the tablets and examined them – they appeared to be a Vitamin C Supplement, so I reluctantly swallowed one.
Pterry started to cry.
After a moment Byron enquired, 'Do you feel amazing yet, Wilson's New Dad?'
I told him that, while I had felt just fine before, after taking just one Zyquako™ tablet I could truthfully say that I didn't yet feel any worse…
My Study has been spared! YAY!
The boys have chosen NOT to establish their DNS International World Headquarters in my Study, after all – Wilson told me that it's just too cramped and untidy, and didn't give the 'right impression'.
Instead they've set up in the Dining Room, where they've called a Press Conference.
This is to Unveil their Company to the world… and to reveal that they will be giving away two new and unique drug names, in order to demonstrate the kind of prestige operation they are running!
However, Wilson has made it perfectly clear that this is, as he put it, 'Strictly a one-off, a Gesture of Goodwill to introduce our Totes Amazeballs service to the world of Big Pharma!' and all future drug names will be charged at the Usual Rates.
Present at the Press Conference are Proprietor Wilson, Principal Associate Byron, CFO Antony, Marketing Director TT, Technical Advisor Nërp and Pterry (because he cries if he's left alone).
I've just been to the Car Wash to get the Juke a complete interior valet.
This didn't entirely remove the smell of formalin, but the nice lady at the pay desk took pity on me and gave me a free Watermelon Air Freshener (Extra Strength) – and agreed to safely dispose of Wilson's home-made Magic Tree for me in their Hazardous Waste bin.
Arriving home, I was very surprised to learn that Uckfield is now a major player in the Pharmaceutical Industry!
A Brass Plate, which Wilson had just finished fixing to the wall, informed me that our house is now the World Headquarters of Vermilingua+Associates Drug Naming Services!
Of course, this isn't Wilson's first time at the Big Pharma Rodeo – long-time readers may remember his Brave Little Dude sticking plasters, with their mission statement: Bringing Succour To A Suffering World...
W tried to allay my immediate fears by explaining that, having learned from past mistakes, he would not this time be rushing to lease prestigious office space – until his fledgling Drug Naming Services business takes off, he and Byron will just be working from home.
There goes my Study, then, I'm guessing…
Whether due to the Miraculous Healing Powers of Wilson's 'Splashdown™® Hangover Cure' (as he and Byron believe) or merely the passage of time (my own theory) both boys were up bright and early today – accompanied by an acrid and unpleasant smell.
'Mmm – you smell great today, New Dad!' Wilson greeted me, 'New aftershave?'
He sniffed theatrically, then added, 'Oh wait a minute – it must be the seductive and alluring aroma of our new Car Air Freshener!'
From behind his back he withdrew one of the home-made Magic Tree-type Air Fresheners he and Byron had made a few days ago, and held it out to me proudly.
'It's time for the Testing Phase – we'll go and hang this in the car and wait for you – don't be long!'
In order to test the air freshener's efficacy we all drove round to the local Sewage Farm – I kept the windows wound down as the overpowering formalin fumes were making my eyes water so much I could barely see to drive.
Reaching our destination, the aroma of partially-treated effluent came almost as a welcome relief…
Apparently feeling a little the worse for wear following yesterday's Moon Landing Party, Wilson and Byron shuffled in to breakfast very late this morning.
Declining my offer of cereal, pannini and scrambled eggs on toast, Wilson announced that he had invented a hangover cure which he has named Splashdown, which he and Byron were about to test.
It seems to be one of the Rules Of Life that the older one gets, the more tablets one needs to take each day – year by year the number of prescription capsules and tabs I neck each day seem to increase alarmingly…
I noticed Wilson queasily observing me as I downed the first phase of my day's supply of medication.
'Woah!' he exclaimed, 'you'll never catch me taking that many tablets – I'll just stick with my Splashdown Hangover Cure…'
Drawing closer, his lips moved silently as he tried to pronounce the unfamiliar and outlandish names of the drugs.
Byron asked, 'Excuse me, Wilson's New Dad, but who makes up these weird names?'
'Somebody at the Drug Company, I suppose,' I replied, adding, 'I once read that giving a drug a good name is nearly as difficult as inventing the drug in the first place!'
I thought I saw Wilson smile approvingly at Byron – but I was probably mistaken.
Both lads downed their Splashdowns, grimaced, gathered up Antony, TT and Pterry between them and wandered off looking thoughtful – something which, I have come to learn, rarely bodes well…
