February A Journal of my Life with Wilson Vermilingua OBE
Original photographs of Wilson used by kind permission of TamanduaGirl: www.livingwithanteaters.com
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thursday; Wilson is gradually getting used to being home again. He told me this morning that he can’t sleep if his bed’s not rocking as it did on the ship, so he’s planning to invent and build a bed-rocking machine. He assembled the sTone Brothers and Diesel the Goldfish in thev living room so he could tell them all about his holiday. He related quite a few adventures that I can’t recall... such as the time Captain Sorensen summoned him to the Bridge and begged him to take over the driving for a little while so he could have a break. Or when the Mayor of Lisbon asked him to take their bi-plane up for a test flight. His audience was entranced by these tales which, I admit, are based on reality, but clearly a different reality to the one I remember...
friday This morning, following another sleepless night, Wilson took the Dyson into the living room and dismantled it. He told me he needed the motor from it to power the ‘rocking bed’ he is inventing, which will apparently replicate the gentle rocking motion of the cruise ship which he’d found so relaxing. Once he’d stripped it down to its component parts he noticed GB’s Jenny Jones had achieved Gold position in the Women’s Slopestyle Snowboarding. He stopped work and gazed intently at the screen. Sadly Jenny eventually slipped down to Bronze Medal position, but W was still very excited. Once the snowboarding had finished he told me that at last he had found a sport in which he felt he could excel, since all he would have to do is stand on his snowboard and slide downhill without falling over. Moreover, he said, the four years until the next Winter Olympics would give him time to practice and become a world leader in the sport. I’m off to consult the Sochi Timetable, as I really don’t want him seeing the Luge events and thinking he’d like to try that! In the meantime, the Bed Rocking machine is no nearer completion and I doubt the Dyson will ever suck again.
saturday Today Wilson discovered an Olympic discipline which he decided would require less physical effort than Slopestyle Snowboarding: Curling. Once he had Googled curling stones and learned that even on eBay they would cost about 400 pounds per pair, he decided to improvise. The hidden cost of improvising is: * glue on the living-room carpet; * sToneye very unhappy; * sTony very nervous; * no door handles on the bathroom door. Also, the chance of the Dyson ever working again: vanishingly small.
sunday Wilson rose early again this morning to watch the Winter Olympics from Sochi, and today they were showing the Luge and the Half-Pipe Snowboard events. He confided to me that he thought he had found the perfect Olympic event for him to compete in: the Luge! All he had to do was lie down on a sledge and whizz down a track. He reasoned that would be even easier than Curling, as he wouldn’t so much as need to stand up. ‘Honestly, New Dad, a sack of potatoes could do it - you don’t even have to steer!’ He admitted that one shortcoming was that he couldn’t see where he was going, but was pretty sure he could invent something out of a small mirror and some Blu-Tack. I think it might be less scary if he couldn’t see where he was going, but maybe that’s just me... I’ve got a pretty bad feeling about this, although sTony and sToneye are both enthusiastic. But they’ll agree to anything if it means they can get the handles taken off their heads.
monday Wilson has become a Couch Athlete... Nothing has really captured his attention today, so he’s spending his time as I imagine many other sports enthusiasts are spending theirs: chilling with their friends over a brew while watching the Individual Normal Hill and the Ladies’ Halfpipe. He says he considered Half Pipe Snowboarding, but judged it a bit too dangerous. However, he says he’s really looking forward to the Skeleton Luge tonight.
tuesday As usual, Wilson was up before me and watching the Olympics on BBC2. He’d been looking forward to the Skeleton Luge, but as soon as he saw me he started complaining that it was rubbish! He said he’d been watching since it started, and so far he’d not seen a single skeleton! He tried lying head-forward on his sledge, but thought it would be madness to race that way as he’d risk damaging his magnificent nose if he were to fall off. Well, that’s one less thing for me to worry about! He’s been quite tetchy today, and I think it’s because he’s dreading St Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Every year since he’s been living with me he has received an anonymous Valentine card, and he’s afraid it’s his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua, who keeps sending them - talk about embarrassing parents!
wednesday The event which Wilson regards as his Annual Humiliation has just occurred: the postman has brought his regular Valentine’s Day Card, which he is certain is sent by his Mum, Mrs Vermilingua. ‘I really will have a word with her about this.’ he said. ‘It’s mortifying, getting a Valentine Card from your Mum.’
thursday The sun came out this morning so Wilson popped into the Surf and Ski shop in the High Street to buy some Runner Wax for his sledge or, as he is now calling it, his luge. On the way back the sky clouded over and he was caught in a torrential hail storm; by the time he arrived home he was soaked through and, given how he hates getting wet, in a pretty bad mood. He is now watching the Olympic Ice Hockey, wrapped from head to toe in towels, steaming gently in front of the fire.
friday Wishing to make the most of the sunshine, Wilson has decamped to the conservatory to fine-tune his sledge, assisted by his Olympic acolytes Polly-B and the sTone Brothers. Antony and Tiny Toy do not number among them due to their excessive nervousness and general timidity. I’m enjoying watching it on TV, but honestly I shall be relieved when the Winter Olympics is over and W can concentrate on less dangerous hare-brained schemes...
saturday When I came down to breakfast yesterday there was no sign of Wilson. Then I noticed a magazine cutting magnetted to the fridge door, together with a Post-It explaining that he was in the Asteroid Shelter. He is still there now. Meanwhile, plucky Polly-B is trying to calm a very nervous Antony and Tiny Toy, while the sTone Brothers say they don’t want to die with door-handles glued on their heads. Which is understandable, I suppose.
sunday Late yesterday evening Wilson emerged from his Shelter after I assured him that Kosmos 1220 had burned up in the atmosphere. Over a cup of hot chocolate, seeking to reassure him, I read him a quote from Heiner Klinkrad, head of the ESA’s Space Debris Office, who said: “In the 56 years of spaceflight, some 15,000 tonnes of man-made space objects have re-entered the atmosphere without causing a single human injury to date.” ‘Exactly!’ W replied, ‘HUMAN injury - no-one cares about we anteaters! It’s an outrage!’
monday When he came indoors after his time in the Shelter, Wilson was cold, damp and to be honest he smelled a bit dank and musty. I tried to get him to take a shower but he refused and this morning stood in the kitchen while Polly-B sprayed him all over with Febreze. He told me that the Shelter was a lot wetter than last time he used it in mid-summer, and he was thinking of installing a heater. And a pump. Also, he said, he’d had enough of these endless nearmisses with stuff from space and was going to write a very stiff email to Britain’s Minister for Space Safety demanding better defences. It was, he said, ‘outrageous that innocent young anteaters should be forced to sit in cold, damp holes in the ground just because the Government can’t get its act together space-debris-wise.’
tuesday Wilson was very excited for the Women’s Curling Team when they won Bronze following their earlier disappointment! However he has more pressing matters on his mind today: writing to Britain’s Minister for Space Safety about the danger anteaters face from falling space debris. The problem he’s having, however, is that there doesn’t appear to be a Minister for Space Safety. Does anyone have any suggestions to whom he should address this vital missive?
wednesday Today Wilson is practicing for the Doubles Luge with Polly-B. If you look carefully, you will see that everyone else is keeping well out of the way! I can’t see any way this doesn’t turn out badly...
thursday I was roused from my bed before dawn this morning by Wilson calling up from the garden: ‘Hurry up, New Dad! Quick, or we’ll be late!’ Due to some miscalculation, he thought today was International Ant Day, and he was waiting ready with all his equipment to celebrate its rites in the traditional way. It’s not like him at all - he’s usually so organised and efficient - but I expect he was just overexcited. International Ant Day is celebrated on the first Sunday in March, as everyone knows!
friday Today is beautiful: sunny, warm and springlike! Wilson has chosen today, the warmest day of the year so far, to go to what he calls ‘the Luge track’ - a grassy slope at the end of the road - to await snowfall so he can start practicing. He spent a long time gazing anxiously at the sky waiting for snow, but was disappointed. When he got home he told me the weather was ‘Rubbish!’ Worryingly, though, he says he has a foolproof backup plan. I so hope it doesn’t involve hiring a snow machine on my VISA card.
saturday Wilson towed his Luge home from the Luge Track, still despondent about the lack of snow. But when he parked it in the dining room he was astonished to notice two PollyBs sitting on it. He ran in to me saying that he had concussion following a Luge-related accident and was seeing double, but when I followed him to the dining room I was able to confirm that there were in fact two Polly-Bs. I have no explanation for this incomprehensible and frankly baffling manifestation! Of all the possible interpretations of this event, Wilson suspects it is a psychic materialisation. Why does this not surprise me?