JOURNAL September 2013 of my life with Wilson
es entur v d a ’s ilson W w o Foll k at: .co.u t daily o p s log rs2.b a w t n //a http:
Original photographs of Wilson used by kind permission of TamanduaGirl: www.livingwithanteaters.com
Sunday
Wilson spent most of today painting an Au Courant sign for his nightclub. I have to say he’s made a very nice job of it.
One of his friends, Rob, used to be a signwriter, so perhaps he gave W some tips. Anyway, I expect the grass will grow out where the paint has been spilled. Eventually.
In other news, Wilson has been telling everyone I thought his
club premises were ‘magnificent.’ I think the phrase I actually used was ‘death-trap.’
monday
ODDSIES! an important message:
To sum up the situation, Wilson’s entire Oddsies! budget has
been spent on advertising and packaging, so he can’t afford to source any socks. He has decided to release some stocks of
Oddsies! wrappers in order to avert disaster and to create interest in the concept. He says this is ‘a totally temporary
measure, just until the idea catches on. Please put some topquality socks in the wrappers and give them as gifts if you’ve got any birthdays coming up!’
tuesday
Wilson has had an email from his friend Ron which, he says,
proves beyond reasonable doubt that there is a mountain in
America named after him. Also a space observatory (although
my suspicion is that the observatory was probably named after the mountain on which it stands, rather than a young anteater in another country).
Now he’s threatening to write to the Royal Astronomical
Society asking them to publish his book on space exploration, “Anteaters In Space” as a paper in their Proceedings.
If they decline his generous offer, he says he’ll try Russell
Grant or (as a last resort) Derek Acorah. As he points out,
‘Astronomy, Astrology, they’re all Ologies! Oh… one of them’s an Onomy…’
You can read this ‘Groundbreaking piece of research’ (Wilson’s words, not mine) at: http://issuu.com/friendlydragon/docs/ anteaters_in_space_book
wednesday
This morning Wilson went round to see how the earwigs were
getting on and was dismayed to find that the Folly and the Bee
Hotel had been graffitied with earwig gang slogans and tags! He has reluctantly threatened to evict all the earwigs unless their
teenage sons scrub off the graffiti and leave everything as good as new.
As for the woodlice, he is greatly impressed by their behaviour
- they have been impeccable tenants, and since they have been homeless for some time he’s decided to allow them to stay. Rent free. As they have no money.
W refused their offer of a drink and a snack, but was unable to suppress a shudder of disgust.
He still won’t tell me what the woodlice’s dreadful secret is, but I’ll get it out of him sooner or later.
thursday
The earwigs have sent round a note to Wilson saying that they didn’t commit the graffiti outrage on his bee hotel and the folly, claiming that they were actually framed by the woodlice.
Wilson read through the note several times, frowning and
sighing, before throwing his arms up in the air and shouting,
‘I just don’t have time for this! These troublesome tenants
are SO doing my nut totally in! Here I am, trying to launch
a groundbreaking and innovative range of haut couture socks
AND open a pop-up nightclub, and all I get is squabbling insects and arthropods!’
He has sought advice from Polly B hoping
that she, as an insect, can contribute some insight on woodlouse and earwig
behaviour.
Reluctantly he’s
gone round to the
the folly to try to
sort this dispute out. For my part, I’m
keeping well out of the way...
friday
When Wilson arrived at the bee hotel early today he caught the woodlice unawares: drunk and rowdy, the father woodlouse
wearing a miniature wifebeater and actually doing the terrible thing of which W would not speak. He said he was appalled by their behaviour!
While he was there the father earwig came out to see him,
wringing his forceps as a tiny tear emerged from his compound eye and trickled down his mandible, to tell W he was very
sorry for what had happened. He repeated that the graffiti
had been done by the woodlice, beseeching W to allow his family
to stay. He said that as a sign of good faith he and his family had themselves scrubbed off all the graffiti.
Wilson told me that he had reluctantly
evicted the woodlice (who had actually
sworn at him) and
told the earwigs they could stay.
I asked him again what it was the
woodlice did that
was so awful, which so revolted him.
After a moment’s consideration he
whispered in my ear: ‘They drink through their bottoms!’
Well, I quite see why W would be unwilling to share a cup with them...
saturday
Having finally sorted out his tenants in the Bee Hotel, Wilson is now busy making preparations for his pop-up nightclub, Au
Courant. He’s printed hundreds of flyers and he’s out now pushing them through letter boxes around Uckfield.
In other news, we have completely run out of printer ink.
Anyway, the club is scheduled to ‘pop up’ next Saturday, so W has just one week to get everything ready and to rehearse the band...
sunday
Wilson’s pop-
up nightclub, Au Courant, opens
next Saturday, so he’s in the village
Tesco spending the paltry remains of
our household food budget on supplies for the Bar.
I suppose if
there’s any food left over we’ll
be able to live on Ant-and-Quorn Sandwiches,
Antburgers and
Ant Cocktails until the end of the month…
Oh, I forgot to mention Ant Nibbles!
monday
Wilson has taken over the kitchen, where he is busy making
Ant-and-Quorn sandwiches and rolls. He has also assembled
the ingredients for many exotic ant-based snacks and cocktails, and a substantial stock of Cheesy Wotsits.
I’m worried that the sandwiches may have started to dry
out by Saturday, but W says they’ll be fine if he wraps them in Clingfilm and puts them in the fridge - ‘As long as you don’t pinch them, New Dad,’ he admonished.
I think it pretty unlikely that I will be eating them. Or anyone else for that matter.
tuesday
As opening night draws near, Wilson is in the garden rehearsing the bands.
The backing singers - Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly B - are inside The Wilson Vermilingua Museum of Old Stuff And A Robot (AKA the garden shed) partly to shelter from the rain and
partly because two of them are scared of the sTone Brothers, who are standing outside complaining about getting wet.
Happily, Polly B is able to provide reassurance as well as harmonic vocals.
I haven’t asked how
the rehearsal is going, but Wilson is looking a tiny bit vexed.
wednesday
In Brighton, all the buses have the name of a famous resident, past or present, painted on the front and Wilson has long thought that he deserved this honour.
I have lost count of the number of times I’ve explained to him that, since he has never lived in Brighton, he doesn’t qualify, but it falls on deaf ears.
‘You lived in Brighton for years, New Dad, and you’re my dad; ergo, I am a Brighton Resident by inheritance. Or adoption. Whatever. QED.’ His argument
hasn’t convinced the management of the
Brighton & Hove Bus and Coach Company (who actually told him he ‘wasn’t
famous enough’!) so
this morning he went
down to the Uckfield Bus Station and
took matters into his own paws.
He told me that an added bonus will be that it
will reassure
clubbers coming
to his pop-up nightclub, Au Courant, that they’ve caught the right bus.
I hope there are no repercussions. I’d hate to hear the phrase ‘criminal damage’…
thursday
As opening night draws ever closer, Wilson is making his final preparations at the club.
While we drove in to the village I asked him if he was confident everything would be okay, and he confessed that he was a
little apprehensive about the bands. The rehearsals having been less than an unqualified success, he says there are still a few wrinkles to be ironed out performance-wise.
I’ve come down to the club premises with him partly to hold
the ladder and pass tools to him while he puts up the nightclub
sign, partly to try and keep him out of trouble: if any Security turns up, we’re going to have to talk our way out of a tricky situation!
friday
Tomorrow is opening night for Wilson’s pop-up nightclub Au Courant, and he’s starting to get nervous!
To keep himself occupied and distract his mind, he’s packing everything in the car today, ticking each item off against a checklist.
This is a bit of a problem for Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly-B who say they don’t want to spend the night in the car.
sTony and sToneye, being made of sterner stuff, have raised no objection - probably comes of living outdoors by the fish pond.
A night in the boot of the car will doubtless seem like luxury to them!
saturday
Wilson’s nervousness and agitation today reached a crescendo. Since just after breakfast he has been stalking round the house wearing his bow tie (‘It’s the only suitable attire for a music
impresario’ he told me) checking on the sTone Brothers, Antony, Tiny Toy and Polly-B every few minutes.
I was afraid he’d have worn himself (and his performers) out by the time they went to the club, but they’re all there now.
The performers are in their dressing rooms (one room for the
sTone Bros, another for the more nervous backing singers, with Polly-B keeping an eye on them) while W stands outside, looking very smart, waiting to greet his paying guests.
I have to say, he really does look the part!
Sunday
After the club had closed we retired to the nearby Railway
Tavern, where Wilson recounted the evening’s events over a drink. To me at least, it did not sound like a resounding success.
He told me that sTony kept dropping his guitar, while sToneye just stood there, blinking like a one-eyed rabbit caught in the headlights. Antony and Tiny Toy wouldn’t come out of their dressing room obviously - and
while Polly B did her best, she
forgot the words, so just hummed. Or buzzed.
Overall, then, everyone’s
stagecraft could be improved. However,
Wilson said that he viewed the
event as a great success - of
the nine people who attended
only two asked
for their money
back; the others thought it was quite funny. Also, Ant Gin and
Cheesy Wotsits sales were brisk, although the Ant-and-Quorn sandwiches less so.
He’s very pleased with an overall profit of £29.77 which will certainly buy some socks for the Oddsies! enterprise.
In other news, I guess we’ll be living off Ant and Quorn sandwiches for the next week or so…
monday
After the emotional and physical strain of Saturday night’s
events, Wilson is having a quiet day in bed in the tumble dryer. I took his breakfast to him a little while ago and he still seems
very satisfied with the outcome of his club night, although he did
confess that maybe he wasn’t cut out to be a full-time nightclub proprietor.
tuesday
I’ve had to visit the dermatology department at the hospital
to have a biopsy. Wilson insisted on accompanying me to offer
moral support, though I think he was more anxious than I was
- when we checked in at Reception he told the nurse that he’d brought me in to have an autopsy!
There was a bit of a delay before I was seen, and when my
name was finally called he clutched my hand so tightly in his paw that it hurt!
He paid very close attention while the biopsy was taken (thankfully he didn’t offer any advice, though I could tell he wanted to) but when the time
came to have some stitches put in,
he slumped in his chair in a faint! He
had to be carried out by two nursing
assistants and given a glass of water. When he recovered he presented me with
one of his ‘Hi Wilson!’ sticking plasters and an ‘I’ve Been Brave at the Dermatologist’ sticker he’d made for me.
I think he deserved a ‘Brave’ sticker too - it was a very tense time for him!
wednesday
It’s almost International Talk Like a Pirate day!
On TLaP day two years ago Wilson was on holiday in Blackpool, talking like a pirate while actually standing on a pirate ship!
On TLaP day last year, he completely forgot it about, so this year he’s determined to make up for last year’s oversight. I don’t know whether ‘making up for last year’ means a lot
more talking like a pirate, or alternatively shouting like a pirate; either way I have some paracetamol to hand.
This morning I found this memo left out for me:
thursday
Wilson has been very excited waiting for International Talk
Like a Pirate Day to dawn, but finally it’s here, and he sends this message to all his friends:
Ahoy buckos! Belay! Know ye, ‘tis the hour in the year o’ our
Lord ‘n twenty thousand and eleven when I did be on a real scurvy pirate ship in the Black Heart o’ Blackpool! Here be a photo o’ me a-boardin’ that fine vessel!
I’ve a fierce fire in m’ belly t’ give some gifts t’ ye, matey — a sign f’r t’ go in t’ window o’ ye carriage, and something t’ keep t’ grog off’n ye chart table.
Yarrr, shipmates!
Yarrrrrrrrrrrr! I have little or no
idea what’s going on, and judging by their
expressions, nor have Antony, Tiny Toy or
Polly-B! I’m reassured
to know that everything will be back to normal tomorrow.
With any luck.
friday
While skimming the on-line edition of the New York Times, as he does most days, Wilson has come across a story headlined: “In
Search of Adorable, as Hello Kitty Gets Closer to Goodbye.” Ignoring the excessive capitalisation in the headline, he quickly devoured the story then announced to me that he would be contacting Miss Yuko Yamaguchi, Sanrio’s head designer of Kawaii [cute] to show her his Hi Wilson! drawings.
‘She’s certain to love them,’ he told me. ‘Hi Wilson! can’t fail!’ http://goo.gl/zoPs8A
saturday
Wilson’s research has revealed that Hello Kitty’s chief rival,
ahead of her in the ratings since 2002, is Nippon Television’s
Anpanman, a jam-filled pastry-based character. No, honestly he hasn’t made that up!
‘With that sort of competition Hi Wilson! will be a shoe-in!’ W exclaimed. ‘As soon as Miss Yuko sees him she’ll love him!
Hi Wilson! is well cute, while Anpanman…’ he gave a Gallic shrug accompanied by a derisory ‘Poof!’ noise, ‘he’s nothing but a talking doughnut!’
sunday
Wilson reminded me that he already has an extensive range of
Hi Wilson! merchandise in place that Sanrio Co Ltd could start selling as soon as Miss Yuko gave the go-ahead.
‘What could be cuter than this Hi Wilson! embossed metal lunchbox?’ he demanded, brandishing it in front of me.
‘But I must work on some more food-based merchandise - all I’ve got so far are the Gingerbread Anteaters… but I think I’ll leave the ants out, just to maximise their appeal.’
I told him I thought leaving out the ants was a very good idea. ‘Hello Kitty? Huh! More like GOODBYE Kitty!’
monday
While waiting for a reply from Miss Yuko at Sanrio Co Ltd
about his cute Hi Wilson! character, Wilson has popped into the village to buy some socks with his nightclub profits.
I hope he spends the change on some non-ant-related food -
I’m getting a bit sick of leftover Ant-and-Quorn sandwiches.
Meanwhile, I’ve taken advantage of his absence to phone
the zoo where his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, lives to enquire
whether he could have a brief holiday with her and his family. I sense in him a need to touch base, to reconnect with his “Inner Anteater” so to speak.
tuesday
Last night I asked Wilson whether he’d like to go and stay with his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, and his family for a little while. He
said that would be ‘Brilliant!’ as long as it didn’t interfere with his very busy schedule.
I told him I was certain that his fledgling ODDSIES! business could spare him for a few days, and that I thought a break would do him good.
Meanwhile, one of Wilson’s friends,
Adam, has told him about a specialist clothing shop that sells nothing but
socks. He’s on his way there now,
and I expect you can guess how excited he is!
wednesday
Apart from being completely spoiled for choice, the lady in the
shop said they had a lot of leftover odd socks that Wilson could have for a rock-bottom price! She let him have the whole lot for £29.77, the exact sum he had with him.
While this is undoubtedly a bargain, it left no change for W to buy any food to supplement our subsistence-level supply of Ant-and-Quorn sandwiches left over from his nightclub.
Even if I pick the ants out, they’re not very tasty… and the bread is starting to turn blue.
thursday
Wilson has agreed to stay with his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, and
the rest of his family as long as I promise to handle all business phone calls for him in what he describes as a ‘meticulous and
professional manner.’ He’s been coaching me in my telephone
technique to be sure it reaches his high standards of efficiency and business-like politeness.
He’s in the dining room now, packing his cases. He seems to have more stuff to take each time he goes away!
While he was packing, I took a walk in the garden and came
across sToneye stumbling around, still wearing his Talk Like a Pirate Day eyepatch. He seemed very relieved when I removed it for him.
friday
Wilson is packing for his two weeks holiday with his mum, Mrs Vermilingua, and her growing family.
This time he’ll be incommunicado as the zoo has suspended WiFi privileges for the animals after the warthogs were found
to be operating an internet scam involving rude photographs of warthogs. I wouldn’t have thought there was much demand for that sort of thing, but you never know…
Anyway, W says he’ll do some drawings on his iPad and print them out as postcards, which he’ll send to me each day.
You will be able to see these postcards by following the link below...
I’m going to miss that little guy while he’s away…
saturday
The first of Wilson’s postcards has arrived from the Zoo!