'How did the presentation go?' I hear you ask.
'When will we see Wilson's logo on tv? And why was there no Blog yesterday?'
Taking the last question first, there was no Blog because we were all waiting for the ITV Executives to arrive to see Wilson's new ITV Logo… but they didn't.
The truth eventually emerged – as I suspected, everyone thought someone else had called and arranged the meeting, but in fact nobody had, and the ITV Logo Committee was blissfully unaware of the presentation.
Perhaps this was for the best, because the longer we waited the more nervous Wilson became, and the more he calmed his nerves by consuming the snacks intended for the Logo Committee – including all the Ant Gin! He ended the day passed out in the arm chair, and had to be carried to bed by Byron and Nërp.
As soon as everyone was awake this morning, I took this photograph which Wilson is going to mail to ITV by Recorded Delivery, so all may yet be well!
Byron, Nërp and Wilson have carried their completed logo into the library, where they are admiring their work.
Nërp says that as long as the ITV Executives turn up to their meeting on Friday, getting the logo on tv is a 'Dead Cert'.
Wilson's plan is to ply the visitors with drinks, as he's heard that 'Everyone in the Media Biz' will 'Do Anything' for free booze, and he's pretty sure a copious supply of Ant Gin will do the trick.
My own, admittedly limited, experience does bear this assertion out, but I fear W may have overestimated the deliciousness and persuasive power of Ant Gin, which is a bit of an acquired taste.
What is much less certain is whether the ITV Executives will come to Friday's meeting – or if they are even aware of it, since as far as I can tell, everyone thinks it has been arranged, but nobody knows by whom, and certainly none of the prospective visitors has RSVP'd…
When Wilson is 'working in the garden' it usually means numerous expensive trips to the Garden Centre, but this time it's different: he, Byron and Nërp are all hard at work spray-painting their 3D ITV Logo – and themselves, obviously.
I'm just glad the younger children are still out of harm's way indoors, as car enamel is notoriously difficult to remove from plush!
Nërp estimates that the work will be completed by Wednesday, and they plan to make their presentation to ITV on Friday, once the paint is fully dry, as apparently nothing is more likely to annoy a TV Executive than getting paint on his pinstripe.
Whether or not ITV is aware of this presentation remains unclear…
Work has already begun on the construction of the ITV Logo!
I'm relieved to note that the work is being carried out in Wilson's Library rather than the living room, but I really hope they take everything outside before they start using that spray paint!
For their own safety, I'm keeping the younger children away from the Construction Zone – at least until all the sawing is completed – I can't bear the sight of spilled kapok!
During a tea break, Byron approached me – he said how much he was enjoying his stay here with Wilson and his little family, but that he was beginning to miss his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua.
I offered to take him home straight away, but he said he was much too involved in building the ITV Logo at the moment, but he would like to go back to his own family at the zoo once it was finished…
When ITV redesigned its logo and station idents in 2013 (kindly modelled in this picture by Nërp, on his rear screen) I didn't like them at all, thinking them vapid and naïve.
However, since 2019, ITV has taken its logo and cleverly transformed it into an ever-expanding series of animated station idents rivalling the best of BBC2's in its heyday.
While most are beautiful and clever, many of them are like Art Installations or, in some cases, Performance Art!
Wilson and Byron were discussing them when Nërp walked in and asked whether they'd like to make one of their own!
Would they? Silly question – of course they would!
#itvcreates
The reason for yesterday's excitement is now clear – Wilson has been on-line and tracked down a special, authentic Costa Rican Anteater Delicacy, and that was what was in the package.
He and Byron are presenting me with this as a thank-you for allowing Byron come to stay, and for feeding, entertaining and looking after him while he's here.
They spent quite a lot of time in the kitchen preparing this, but eventually they proudly presented me with a cup of: Tea With A Hint Of Ants.
Honestly, there was quite a lot more than just a hint of ants, but it was such a kind gesture that I bravely drained my cup while giving every outward sign of great enjoyment – satisfied 'Mmmm' sounds and a lot of lip-smacking.
I can apparently keep the rest of the packet, although I might share it with Wilson.
Or save it for the next time Byron comes to stay…
This morning the postman brought a package addressed to Wilson.
It was evidently something he and Byron had been expecting, as they both excitedly rushed out into the hall to examine it.
There was no clue as to the parcel's contents, although it gave off a faint but pungent smell, and was worryingly labelled 'Perishable' – I hope there's nothing alive inside, or anything that would warrant a visit from HM Customs and Excise…
Wilson and Byron have popped round to Tesco to do something they described as 'guerrilla marketing'.
I don't even know what that is, but I don't like the sound of it – and I'm pretty sure I'm not going to he happy when I find out…
Today, while we were out having coffee in a local cafe, I gave Wilson and Byron the books I'd bought for them.
They were both very pleased (Wilson in particular brandished his book in the air and ran round showing it to anyone who'd look, while shouting, 'I Am The Greatest!') and while Byron seemed pleased by the gift, I sensed that something was not quite right.
I pressed him on this, but he said, 'Oh no, there's nothing wrong, Wilson's New Dad – it's a lovely book and I shall treasure it forever!'
'But?…' I persisted, 'You can tell me anything – I won't be cross.'
'Well…' he replied, 'It's nothing really… but the books are called "Wilson is the Greatest" and "Byron is the Greatest" and, well, we can't both be the Greatest, because "Greatest" is a Superlative, so while there can be many "Greats" there can be only one "Greatest". I'm really sorry to have mentioned this…'
I suggested that we could pop into the stationers and but a bottle of Tippex, and change 'Greatest' to Great', but B wouldn't hear of it, saying, 'I'm sure Wilson would rather carry on thinking he is the Undisputed Greatest than merely Great!'
How well Byron knows his brother!
Wilson has apologised for yesterday's menacing solicitors letter, saying that he was merely trying to raise funds to secure Pterry's future.
'In any case, my application to trademark the word "and" has been turned down,' he confessed. 'I suppose now you'd like me to return your £3.00 "illegal useage" fees?'
I nodded.
'There's nothing like motherhood,' he continued, 'to make you realise your responsibilities!' conceding that 'possibly' he should have warned me in advance of the fees payable…
I suggested that it might be more ethical to simply install a Swear Jar, but he countered that I don't swear enough to make that a viable option, whereas I say 'and' all the time.
I don't swear enough? Really? I fear that might be about to change!
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!
