Author: Tom

Are you sitting comfortably?

Ellie and Points are going to tell us about the escape from the Fairy Prison.

We had a party on my doorstep a few days ago, to welcome Points home from prison, and to congratulate Ellie on rescuing Points.

It was a nice party, but Points and Ellie never turned up, because Points had fallen into a deep sleep, and Ellie couldn’t wake her.

Ellie telephoned a few days later, to say that Points was now awake, and very hungry.

I wasn’t very keen to have the party on the front doorstep again, because so many passers-by turned up.

Of course it’s nice to get to know new people, but I felt it got rather out of hand.

Perhaps the back doorstep will be better.

I’ll get the food ready.

Jenny’s reminded me that there used to be a Fondue Set in a box at the back of the broom cupboard.

A Fondue would be just the thing for a party.
It’s nice for sharing. And it’s good to have something warm if you’re eating out of doors.

Jenny’s come round to help me prepare it.

It’s very simple. You heat up some wine, and stir in the grated cheese.

Then you keep it warm over a candle.

We’re not sure how we’re going to get the whole contraption out to the garden.

But our younger friends will manage it somehow.

I’ve got some Crudities (as Teddy calls them) ready to dip in.

Teddy’s bringing a baguette that he’s baked.

He’s very good at the French cooking.

I’m not sure what happened to the Or Dervs. Perhaps Lopsy ate them.

We’re all ready. The first guests are starting to arrive.

Oh look, here comes Ellie on her electric scooter.

There’s Points on the back.

Little Points. What a relief to see her safe and sound, and back with us again.

Whatever has Ellie got in her backpack? Ah, I think it’s Points’s ocarina.

She’s been in one prison or another ever since she and Ruffy were arrested back in the autumn.

They were peacefully protesting.

I don’t know why the police picked on them.

First they were locked up at the police station.

Then in one prison after another.

I tried to find out where they were being held.

But the Police and the Prison Officers were not very helpful or friendly.

I didn’t feel that they took my enquiries seriously.

My friend the Tardigrade is at the seaside trying to find our friends Walrus and Bruno.

They said they’d come across a Fairy Prison.

Judging by its size, it seemed a likely place for little Points to have been sent.

Ellie very kindly used her half-term holiday (she’s a nursery teacher) to go and investigate.

She set off on her electric scooter, with only a backpack, and a fairy cake to use in negotiations.

It seems she did find Points, and either persuaded the fairies to let her go, or helped her to escape.

No doubt she’ll tell us the whole story this evening.

Oh dear. They’ve only just arrived, and it’s starting to rain.

The rain was quite heavy, and everyone rushed indoors.

Which isn’t easy, because I don’t really have a back doorstep. Not one that you can step up.

I use a ladder to get in and out.

Ted and Lopsy managed to heave the baguette up into the kitchen.

Bimbo didn’t think it was safe to come indoors.

He went home in the rain.

I hope he didn’t get too wet.

Oh dear, that won’t have been good for his poor old lungs. Or his feet.

There was quite a mellay in my kitchen.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so many people there at one time before.

Certainly never since the Virus began.

In fact nobody has been in the kitchen for the last two years except for the Stork, who lives here.

(Though come to think of it, I haven’t seen him since just before our last party, out on the doorstep.

He watched me preparing some of the food, and I’m afraid he didn’t like the look of it.)

And Um and the Baby found refuge here for a while.

Oh, and Kimbleton Tardigrade came to stay for a while, I’d nearly forgotten.

I wish Um and the Baby were here now.

The Baby would love a party, and I think it might cheer Um up a bit.

Anyway, there’s no time for repining.

Nor, now I come to think about it, for considering issues of social distancing or otherwise avoiding the spread of the Virus.

But we’re all good friends, so I don’t suppose we’ll catch anything from each other.

I’ve left the door open. I think that’s supposed to help.

Alexander the spider turned up again.

Now that he knows the way, I’ll probably be seeing quite a lot of him.

The fondue was a great success.

Various people played ambient music while we ate.

That was very nice. I ate rather more than I’m used to eating.

When we’d finished dipping in the crudities, we moved on to Teddy’s bread.

And then to the more indulgent foodstuffs.

And then I thought it was time for us to gather round and hear the adventures of Ellie and Points.

That was a good idea really.

Lopsy and some of the others were getting quite excited and silly.

My great-grandmother would have said “It will end in tears”.

First Gibbs played some marches on his recorder.

That wasn’t perfect, because everyone danced in straight lines.

So then Ellie played something rather less military on the piano.

And after that, Points got out her ocarina.

But it was just the thing for settling us all down, ready to hear the story of the rescue.

I don’t think I’ve ever made a speech before. Did that sound all right?

There’s to be a party on my doorstep tonight.

Lopsy’s organised it, to welcome Points and Ellie home.

I haven’t yet heard exactly what happened, but somehow Ellie managed to rescue Points from the Fairy Prison, and bring her home.

It’s wonderful news.

Poor little Points has been incarcerated for six months, so her release is definitely cause for celebration.

It’s quite a hustle bustle to get ready for the party.

Lopsy said that everyone will be coming round in the evening, and I said I’d provide snacks.

But how many people? And what time? And what can I give them as snacks?

All right, I’ve blended the leftovers from the fridge. They’ve made quite a presentable dip.

Whether it will also be edible remains to be seen.

The Stork approved of some of the ingredients, but didn’t seem to think much of the combination.

I’ll make sure I put out some sunflower seeds for him to nibble at the party.

I realise that my old anorak really isn’t smart enough for a social occasion.

In fact it needs mending badly. Look, I can put my paw through this hole.

I know Jenny would mend it for me, because she’s very practical, and would do it quickly and neatly.

But I oughtn’t to ask her to do a traditionally female task that I’m perfectly well able to do myself.

I’ll tackle that challenge tomorrow.

I’ll get out my strategy suit with the jelly pocket.

You might like to read more about my strategy suit. It’s no ordinary suit.

I’m putting out my best towels for people to sit on.

Reindeer and Mme Cholet from across the road have come round, to ask if they can help with anything.

Yes! They can sit on some of the towels, and stop them blowing away.

It’s very nice to have them here to give calm encouragement.

Shamus has arrived early, with some shamrock biscuits.

He’s playing on his fiddle, to jolly me along.

Of course it’s lovely to hear his jigs. But the music is making it a bit hard for me to concentrate, actually.

The music has attracted some passers-by who I’ve never seen before.

Some of them have settled down, looking rather hungry.

A young stripy monkey has started to eat the carrots that little Strawberry kindly brought from her garden.

There’s quite a crowd here.

I suppose it’s all right for all of us to be gathered together, if we’re outside in the fresh air?

Oxford Monkey has turned up in his fruit-kebab van, all the way from outermost Wessex.

He’s been working so hard on Bunce and Snowy’s farm, making new floating benches for the seedlings, that they gave him the day off.

Let me think.

It’s a kind idea, but actually there isn’t as much food as there was.

And we don’t know this person’s Covid status, do we? 

And really the idea was for all Points’s friends to greet her, but already we’ve got half a dozen people here that she’s never even met before.

Oh dear, I think I’m a horrible person.

I wish I hadn’t been so mean. I should have thought of inviting her straight away.

If she really is homeless, perhaps I should ask her to come and live here? There’s plenty of room.

I didn’t worry about having Um and the Baby to stay.

Was that because they were bears? I didn’t know I was so prejudiced.

A lot of my best friends are monkeys. Well, one or two of them.

I hope it wasn’t my dip that put him off coming.

It was good to meet some new neighbours.

One of them was a caterpillar, who was very interested in the chips that Lopsy had brought.

And a spider dropped in, who has a problem with his eyes. One of them sticks out further than the other.

He was keen to talk to Ted and Jenny about their experiences of eye surgery.

(Teddy had an eye transplant years ago, after an accident involving a wardrobe, and Jenny’s skin condition has necessitated transplants of her eyes and skin throughout her life. She’s on the waiting list now for the next operation. But of course waiting lists are very long at the moment.)

Teddy had made some croissants for the party.

He and Mme Cholet bonded over their love of French food and culture.

Bimbo came with gobstoppers.

He used to be able to do a clever trick of keeping one suspended in the air above the tip of his trunk, by breathing out a steady stream of air.

He no longer has enough puff to do this, but he thought it would amuse the rest of us to try.

My dip didn’t seem very popular, until I thought of enhancing it with coloured sprinkles.

Then everyone tucked in.

It began to get dark, so I lit the nightlights, and we waited for Ellie and Points, and the Stork.

Shamus brought out the cheese shamrocks that he’d made.

Then he and Gibbs played more music, and there was singing and dancing.

After a while most of the neighbours drifted away, but Ellie and Points still hadn’t arrived.

I hadn’t heard it, with all the noise of the party.

It was Ellie, the hero of the hour.

Of course everyone was sad to hear that Ellie and Points wouldn’t be coming.

But it was quite late.

And they all cheered up at the thought of another party in a day or two.

As Gibbs was leaving, he asked me who the yak was.

I hadn’t noticed a yak. But there’d been so many people there, I was quite dazed.

Is it all right to leave the washing up till tomorrow?

Our St David’s Day party went well, I think.

Dillion is the first guest I’ve invited round since all this Virus business started.

(Not counting Um and the Baby, who were here for asylum rather than for sociability.)

I did a Lateral Flow Test in the morning, and I opened all the windows, and I felt I’d done all I could to make the occasion safe for both of us.

I didn’t make leek soup after all, because I remembered it was not only St David’s Day, but also Pancake Day.

So when Dillion turned up with a leek, I whipped up a creamy leek sauce to go on the pancakes.

Tasty.

And a vegetable sauce doesn’t trickle off the pancakes the way that treacle or condensed milk do.

Dillion had brought his harp.

After our pancakes, we played Welsh tunes together.

And after that, we listened to Radio Cymru on the wireless, with a cup of tea and some bits of biscuit.

I practised my Welsh.

(I hope that means, this music is very nice, and the Welsh people are very musical.)

But whenever Dillion answers me in Welsh, I can’t keep up.

Anyway, it was a lovely occasion, and I think it cheered Dillion up.

A few days later, a postcard arrived.

It was probably posted weeks ago.

The post is taking a very long time to get anywhere these days.

I’m not blaming the postpeople. The Queen has sold them off to someone who values Profit above Service.

We have a very good postperson here, who cheers us all up by whistling while he works.

It’s a hazardous job, cycling through all the traffic. Especially for a very small postperson.

Let’s see, who’s been writing to me from the seaside?

Perhaps it’s from the Tardigrade.

It looks as though he’s having good weather.

No, it’s not from the Tardigrade. It’s from Exxx.

That couldn’t be a new way for Ummm to spell her name, could it?

Ah, it will be someone beginning with E, and three kisses.

Edward from Grandpont? Elsfield Bear? e.e. cummings?

I once sent a fan letter to e.e. cummings, but he’s not likely to send me kisses, specially after all this time.

And anyway, it wouldn’t be a capital E, would it?

Oh, of course, it’s from Ellie.

So Points really is in the Fairy Prison. What a relief to know for certain where she is.

But will Ellie manage to get her out?

Perhaps I’ll get another postcard tomorrow with more news.

DING DONG

Who can that be?

Now that I’ve had Dillion to visit, I feel braver about inviting people in.

She showed me the little switch. It’s so small that it’s easily overlooked.

I could get back into the swing of entertaining.

Though I’m not sure that I was ever very far into the swing of it, even before The Virus.

Oh. She’s gone.

Did I hear her say that Points would be coming? I think I did.

So Points really is out of prison, and back home. I can hardly believe it.

That is definitely worth celebrating.

I’d better get ready for the party.

I promised to give them snacks. What have I got to offer them?

The rice has got rather hard… I’m not sure what that green stuff is… some quite old soup… something rather grey…

I wonder which of those would be most festive?

Little Strawberry gave me what I mistook for an onion.

Luckily I didn’t eat it. Just in time, Teddy told me that it was a bulb.

It will turn into a flower, given the right conditions.

I’ve been facilitating its root formation, and it’s doing quite nicely.

It would have been good if it had been a daffodil, because Saint David’s day is coming up.

Don’t think me ungrateful. I am looking forward to the hyacinth flower with eager anticipation.

But I’m hoping to give Dillion a really nice party on Saint David’s Day. He misses Wales so much.

I’ll make leek soup.

I’m practising the Welsh national anthem on my triangle.

I think that will please Dillion.

I’m trying to learn the words as well, but I’m slower at learning than I used to be.

I get as far as “Gwlad, Gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m gwlad” and then I get stuck.

Perhaps Dillion will bring his harp round, and we can play it together.

I thought it would be all right to ask just one person round, if we keep the windows open.

The Prime Minister says that we don’t have to worry about the Virus any more, but Bimbo tells me the Scientists say otherwise, so I shall continue to be cautious.

I find I sometimes have to weigh one risk against another.

For instance, the risk of dying from the Virus, against the risk of Dillion being miserable because he’s far from his homeland and suffering from severe Hiraeth.

Just thinking about Hiraeth makes me feel it too, even though I’m at home and have nothing to feel homesick about.

I can make plans for Saint David’s Day because my trip to the seaside is cancelled.

It’s a relief, to be honest.

I think I’ve let myself get out of condition.

The long bicycle ride looked a daunting prospect.

I would have done it, of course, to rescue dear Points from the Fairy Prison.

But when Ellie was willing to go, I jumped at the offer.

The scooter works very well, but Ellie needed a bit more practise on it.

I suggested we take both our vehicles to the running track.

It’s a safe place to practise until she’s got the hang of the scooter.

I offered to lend her various travel equipment.

She didn’t want my helmet.

She felt that on balance it would increase rather than decrease the risk, given its impact on her field of vision.

And she’s not taking a tent. She says her Loden coat is waterproof.

She’s travelling light, with just a backpack.

She’s taken the fairy cake to use in negotiations with the fairies.

I would have liked to give her a spare one, for her and Points to eat on the way home, but it’s not a big scooter.

There’s still Ruffy to worry about.

He was arrested at the same time as Points, but he’s too big to be in the Fairy Prison.

I’ve been trying to find out where he is, but he doesn’t seem to be in any of the mainstream prisons in England.

However, I shall pause my search for Ruffy, until I’ve heard from Points.

She may know where they’ve put him.

How very good it will be to have them both home.

How very nice it is not to have to bicycle all the way to the seaside.

I did have a lovely time when I was there a year or two ago.

But it’s not the weather for swimming now, and I think I’ll wait till it’s definitely safe to use Public Transport.

It was on that last trip that I found Um and the Baby.

Oh dear. I think I feel a bit of Hiraeth about them.

Usually I manage to put them out of my mind, but then something will remind me of them.

Yesterday, for instance, I started to make a necklace for Jenny, to thank her for my stabilisers.

But I spilled all the beads, and I thought how much the Baby would have enjoyed that.

The Stork promised to take me to visit Um and the Baby in their new home, wherever it is.

But he seems to have forgotten.

I’ll deal with Saint David, and Ruffy, and then I’ll see if I can nudge the Stork to take me.

It’s bad enough seeing my friends mostly on Zoom or Skype, and hardly ever in real life.

But it’s even worse when people disappear completely.

Well, it’s no good moping.

Things to be done.

I shall clean the floor while learning the second line of the Welsh National Anthem.

I think I can do some yoga at the same time too.

The broom comes in handy for the harder poses.

I had a happy Chinese New Year.

The Stork found a paper dragon somewhere, and we both dressed up in our red ribbons.

Ted and Lopsy brought us some of the fortune cookies that Teddy had made.

We ate them for our elevenses.

I felt quite nervous about the fortunes, even though Lopsy had promised that they would all be good ones.

I really need a lot of good fortune at the moment.

What a relief. Mine said that everything will be all right.

The Stork’s had a picture of favourable flying conditions.

He took a basket of the crumbs up to the cuckoos.

They seemed pleased.

Sure enough, there was good news almost immediately about my friend Kimbleton’s hunt for Walrus and Bruno.

I had heard that Kimbleton had found a second clue, and would have to hurry on to follow it up.

Which meant that they couldn’t go back to the Fairy Prison to check whether Points is being held there or not.

Apparently the Fairy Prison is very small indeed.

The more I think about it, the more likely it seems that if I were the Director General of Prisons, that is exactly where I would send anyone as small as Points.

So I’ve decided that I’ll have to head there to ask the fairies to release her.

I’ve made a nice fairy cake which I hope will smooth the way.

I’ve started to collect my equipment together.

Bicycle panniers, helmet, hi-vis jacket, tent, tent poles, sleeping bag, warm clothes, waterproof clothes.

Swimming trunks. (The fairy prison is at the seaside.)

Bucket and spade.

The fairy cake. Mustn’t forget that.

Perhaps I’ll leave the bucket and spade, since I’ll have Points on the back of the bicycle on my way home.

I wonder if I could manage without my sleeping bag? The nights will be getting a little less cold soon.

I’ll have a map to fit in too.

I took a circuitous route last time.

But Jenny has promised to print out a map for me, so this time I won’t go via Berkshire, Wiltshire, Dorset, Devon, Cornwall, Somerset, Gloucester, Sir Fynwy, Gwent, Powys, Cambridgeshire, Shropshire, Staffordshire, Leicestershire, Rutland or Cambridgeshire.

As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’m aiming for the same bit of seaside as last time, so that route wouldn’t get me to the right place anyway.

My packing was interrupted by Ellie, who called by on her way to the park.

I’ve heard of Public Pianos in stations and shopping centres.

It’s a very good idea to put them outs, during a pandemic.

Are pianos waterproof?

Of course Ellie played beautifully. A little morsel of music by a baker called Lilly.

I wish Teddy could have heard it. He loves anything French.

Afterwards we sat and chatted in the cool sunshine.

Though I can’t imagine what Jenny could do to one of those scooters to make it suitable for Ellie.

They’re ridiculously big.

I came back and puzzled some more over what on earth the latest clue is that the Tardigrade has found.                                                  

I was a little sceptical about the previous clue they’d told us about.

They believed they were hot on the trail, because they’d found a seaside sculpture that they felt sure was in Walrus’s style.

I have to say, I wasn’t convinced that Kimbleton would be able to spot Walrus’s style.

But apparently this time they have incontrovertible evidence that they’re on the right piece of coastline, and that Walrus and Bruno must be nearby.

They telephoned to report that they’d found a message on the beach which had clearly been written by Walrus and Bruno.

And I hope to have good news myself, about Points.

But it may not be very very soon, because it will take me quite a while to get to the Fairy Prison.

I haven’t even finished packing yet.

I nearly forgot my mask.

Just as well everything’s going to be all right.

The cloth masks that I’ve been making aren’t needed any more.

Bimbo tells me that they’re even less effective against Omicron than against the previous variants.

Though I think part of his problem is that he hasn’t found the right mask to accommodate his trunk.

The tusks don’t help either.

Before putting my sewing machine away, I decided to make an apron for Teddy to wear when he’s cooking.

I’m sure he’s not as messy as I am, but I thought he’d like the pockets for his utensils.

On my way back from dropping it off at his house, I met little Strawberry, with an onion in her shopping trolley.

She was bringing it to me, as a present. What a very kind little bear.

I’ve been eating rather dull food lately.

Of course I do have a treat or two in the cupboard.

But after the first two spoonfuls, the charm of condensed milk wears off a little.

Ruffy used to get my shopping for me whenever he was doing an online order, and of course he can’t do that from prison.

I go into shops as little as possible, since I am vulnerable, and rather worried about the Omicron variant.

So I’ve mainly been living out of the store-cupboard.

Lentil soup is quite dull if it’s not enhanced with anything else.

An onion will be just the thing to liven it up.

I’ve been doing some baking lately as well.

I’ve made a cake to take to the Fairy Prison that Kimbleton Tardigrade found.

I hope that the fairies can be persuaded to release Points, if that is where she’s locked up.

Unfortunately, Kimbleton thinks that although Ruffy is small by normal prison standards, he wouldn’t fit into the Fairy Prison. So he must be somewhere else.

Kimbleton had intended to go back to the prison on visiting day, to check whether Points definitely was there.

But they couldn’t do that after all, because they’d discovered another clue in the hunt for Walrus and Bruno, and had to hurry on in pursuit.

They were in a rush when they telephoned.

So I never heard what the clue was that had turned up.

In the course of my research, I’ve found that there are not many prisons in this country specifically catering for very small people.

So I think there’s a good chance that the Fairy Prison is indeed where Points will have been sent.

I suppose I’ll have to bicycle all the way to the seaside again, and speak to the Fairy Prison Officers myself.

Somehow I don’t feel as enthusiastic about a long journey as I did last time. It’s cold outside, and my legs are creaky.

Though at least I fall off my bicycle much less since Jenny fixed stabilisers on it.

Ted and Lopsy telephoned just as I was about to start chopping and frying little Strawberry’s onion.

I didn’t know that ordinary people could make fortune cookies.

I hope mine will say that I’ll succeed in bringing Points and Ruffy home, and that Kimbleton will find Walrus and Bruno safe and sound, and that I’ll get good enough on my triangle to satisfy Bimbo, and that the spring will come.

I suppose it’s too much to hope that The Virus will go away.

RING RING RING RING

There’s the telephone again.

     

I’d forgotten that a triangle can’t be played just anywhere, at least not by someone with short arms.

I need to have it suspended from somewhere above me.

I had to climb up to tie the string to a tree.

It was very cold, but we all had warm clothes.

And Lopsy had kindly brought hot water bottles for us all to sit on, safely spaced out.

It certainly was very nice to be playing music together.

We’ve promised to do it more often.

And we think that Pirate Jenny is very nearly ready to play to Bimbo.

Brrrr. There’s no colder instrument than a triangle.

It’s good to be back indoors again.

I’m not looking forward to camping, on my journey to the Fairy Prison.

I’m getting old and lazy. But I do want to find Points.

And it will be an adventure, even if it is cold.

It’s a new year and it’s time I got my life organised.

As a matter of fact, the year started a week or two ago, but I’m only just ready to face it.

First priority: ursus sanus in corpore sano, as they say. Roughly speaking, “a healthy bear in woolly clothes”.

So, aiming at healthiness, I’ve got back to my yoga exercises.

I’m out of practice. I’m sure I used to be able to do that one.

I’d better start again with the easier positions.

I’m now going for a daily bicycle ride, come rain or shine.

I’m learning at least one new Welsh word every day.

Gair heddiw yw “buwch goch gota”.

I decided that if I never tidy my triangle away, I’m more likely to practise it.

I haven’t made any other decisions about tidying. I might start doing that in February.

You can’t do everything at once, can you?

Of course I’m determined to find Ruffy and Points. That’s my main project at the moment.

First to find which prison they’re in, then to go there, and finally to get them out.

I’ve been telephoning and telephoning.

I’ve telephoned all the prisons and young offenders’ institutions in England and Wales, from A to Z. A to Y, actually. There weren’t any beginning with Z.

None of them have Ruffy and Points in their cells.

Madame Cholet thinks I’m wrong to lie to the Prison Officers on the telephone.

I suppose she’s right. But sometimes you have to weigh one wrong thing against another.

It’s definitely always wrong to lie to yourself. And it’s generally better not to lie to other people.

But it’s very wrong that Ruffy and Points have been incarcerated without a trial.

They must be rescued, and when I started searching for them, telling the truth didn’t get me anywhere.

The Police Officers and Prison Officers wouldn’t take me seriously. They just laughed at me when I asked questions.

I’m afraid furry people often have this experience when dealing with the Authorities.

So I’ve been forced to tell Well-Intentioned Untruths.

(Points told me not to say “white lie”. She says it suggests that white is better than black.)

When I speak in my most un-furry voice, and say that I’m from Scotland Yard, the Law Enforcement Officers are happy to tell me what I need to know.

I hope Madame Cholet doesn’t disapprove of me too much.

I’d better try the Scottish and northern Irish prisons next.

And after that, Australia.

But not today.

RING RING   RING RING

I wonder whether fairy prisons are in the telephone directory?

And who else may the Government have licensed to run our correctional institutions?

I just hope they’re well regulated.

I had a little Christmas festivity for the Stork and the cuckoos.

I cooked a proper Christmas dinner, with both the trimmings.

The Stork came to watch me prepare the Brussels sprouts.

He seemed to think I wasn’t doing it correctly, and he drew a picture to show what he meant.

I thought at first that he wanted me to cook hot cross buns instead of sprouts.

I tried to explain that they belong to a different seasonal festivity.

But it turned out that he wanted me to cut a cross in the stalks.

I’ve always thought that that was rather superstitious. But if he was worried about it, I was happy to comply.

The cuckoos are shy about coming down from their clock, so I took the Brussels sprouts and the mince pies up to them.

The Stork and I joined them up there.

The bigger cuckoo reminded me that I must remove the smaller cuckoo’s paper hat promptly after the meal.

There have been problems in the past when such things have been used for nest-building, which has caused problems for the clockwork.

It’s not as though cuckoos really need nests.

I found some midwinter songs on the wireless, and we joined in.

It was a nice occasion, but after it was all over I felt a little down.

There were the leftovers to put away, and the hat-making materials to tidy up.

I think I’d eaten too much as well.

Then I remembered the paper chains.

Such a pity that I’d forgotten to put them up. It would have been much jollier.

But I didn’t allow myself to mope.

I tidied up, and took off my paper hat, and went out for a ride on my bicycle.

Jenny’s stabilisers are just what I needed.

I must get my cycling legs back, because I may have to make a long journey soon.

Once I know where Ruffy and Points are being held, I’ll be setting off to get them out.

I’ve nearly finished telephoning all the prisons in England, but so far none of them is the one where they’re being held.

I put in a music request for them, on the Prison Radio.

I asked for “O Christmas Tree”. They can think of it as the Red Flag. They’ll like that.

I wonder if they might be in Wales, or Scotland, or Northern Ireland.

If they’ve been sent to Australia, the telephone calls will be expensive.

But of course I don’t mind that. I’d give anything to get them home.

It’s not possible to bicycle all the way to Botany Bay.

If they are in Australia, I may have to call on the Invisible Friend.

It was the Invisible Friend who kindly came to pick me up from the seaside last year.

I didn’t know that the Second Lockdown was about to start, but with her school bus she got us home (I had Um and the Baby with me) in the nick of time.

The Invisible Friend has a great many useful vehicles. I’m sure she’d be able to get to Australia to rescue Points and Ruffy.

But let’s hope they’re in an English prison, one of the ones starting with W, X, Y, or Z.

I’ll do some more telephoning now.

I fear I’ve become hardened. I hardly blush at all now when I tell the Prison Officer at the other end that I’m calling from Scotland Yard, or from the Royal Courts of Justice.

Here’s the telephone directory. Now, where have I put my telephone?

I can hear it ringing.

Ah, here it is. Under a cushion.

It’s Bimbo, asking if I’d like to watch a film with him.

 

So we all found the film on our devices.

When we were ready to press PLAY, Elly counted us down to zero, so we all started at the same time.

I can’t remember the name of the film, but it was very good.

There were some distressing parts in the film, but on the whole I found it very encouraging.

The hero is sent to prison by mistake, just like Ruffy and Points.

The prison food seems to be excellent. I do hope theirs is too.

Altogether prison life is portrayed as quite pleasant.

Though of course no one would really want to be locked up, however nice the prison was.

I hope Ruffy and Points are in a prison like that.

When the film finished, everyone wished me a Happy New Year.

Oh my goodness. I’m not ready for another celebration.

I can hear the cuckoos getting excited. But I think I’ll just watch the fireworks quietly on my own.

Very nice.

I wonder what the rest of the year will be like.      

It’s dark and damp outside. And it’s not much better indoors. I wish I was in my cupboard.

But Jenny says I mustn’t stay at home moping and worrying.

Jenny’s a very practical person. She came straight round with her spanner and some stabiliser wheels.

They make all the difference.

I’ve only tried it indoors so far, but I feel much more confident on it now.

I’ll go out on the road again very soon, and I’m sure that a quick bicycle ride round the block will be just the thing to clear my brain and take my mind off my worries.

What I’ve mainly been worrying about is all of my friends who are off in unknown places, and I don’t know if they’re safe and well, or even alive, and whether I’ll ever see them again.

There’s Walrus and Bruno.

They went off months ago in search of freedom and pleasure.

Kimbleton Tardigrade has gone to look for them, and is heroically swimming all round the coast of Britain, checking all the seaside resorts that they may have gone to.

The Stork took Um and the Baby to somewhere where they could get help with their immigration status and associated matters.

I know the Stork will eventually tell me where they are , and I don’t like to nag. So far I’ve had no news.

I trust they’re safe and well.

Actually no, we can’t really trust that anyone is well at the moment. But I’m sure the Stork found them a place where they’ll be taken good care of.

Ruffy and Points are in prison somewhere, and I’ve been trying to find out where.

I’ve been telephoning prison after prison, pretending to be someone high up in the Police or the Criminal Justice system.

I started on the prisons that I’d heard of. But now I’m being more systematic.

I’m going through all the prisons in alphabetical order. I’m on the G’s at the moment.

Of course Ruffy and Points are no longer youths, but since they are quite small, it’s possible that they’ll have been sent to a Young Offenders’ Institution. So that’s more telephone calls to make.

I hope I’ll manage to get them home in time for Christmas.

One person I don’t have to worry about any more is Dillion, the Draig Gymreig.

After I inadvertently visited Wales, and sent him a harp, he began to yearn for the land of his fathers.

Eventually he set off to play his harp in the valleys and on the mountains of Wales.

Today there was a knock at my door. There was someone on the doorstep with a parcel.

I didn’t recognise him at first, because he was wearing a mask.

It’s a bit early in the year to be wishing me a Happy Christmas.

Let’s see. What is the date?

Dillion’s right. It is nearly Christmas.

Well, it really is hopeless now to think that I might find Ruffy and Points, and get them out of prison, and bring them home, before Christmas.

I should have been working harder at it. I’m not much of a friend. Why haven’t I been getting up earlier each day, so as to fit in more telephone calls?

Do the Prison Officers put up decorations, I wonder?

And make pudding, and give the prisoners presents?

Oh Ruffy. Oh Points. I’m sorry I’ve failed to find you.

As soon as I’ve tried Dillion’s Welsh Cake, I’ll make some more telephone calls.

Dillion’s wrapped it in Christmas paper. It’s very big.

And very tasty.

Last year I had Um and the Baby here at Christmas time, so of course I had to organise a bit of festivity.

But now it’s just me. And the cuckoos and the Stork, of course. I wonder if they’ll want to celebrate?

Oh, there’s the post. Lots of letters today.

I haven’t had any post for weeks. Gibbs says that the Royal Mail bosses have told the postpeople to prioritise the more profitable things, like heavy parcels.

Gibbs says that’s reasonable. It’s the duty of every company to make as much money as possible for its shareholders.

I wish Points and Ruffy were here. I’m sure they’d explain why Gibbs is wrong.

I remember when you could send a postcard for tuppence ha’penny and it would get there at least by the second post the next day. But of course Royal Mail was a Public Service in those days.

You can’t blame the poor postpeople. They’re worked off their feet.

In fact I’ll wrap up a slice of the Welsh Cake to give to Darren tomorrow. That’s my particular postperson.

I’ll save the rest for when Ruffy and Points come back.

I expect these are all Christmas cards from my friends. Very kind of them.

Oh.

No, they’re not Christmas cards. They all seem to be boring rubbish.That’s rather disappointing.

This one might be a card.

I think it must be, because the envelope is full of glitter.

My goodness, that is a lot of glitter.

Atchoo. Atchoo.

Yes, a beautiful card.

It’s a Christmas card from the Baby. I would recognise that style anywhere.

The Baby’s use of paint is unmistakeable. And it’s put glitter on as well, to make it really festive.

Never in a month of Sundays would I have guessed that I’d get a Christmas card from the Baby.

I feel quite… I’m overcome.

Just look at that. Isn’t it perfectly lovely?

And who would have thought that the Baby could write an X as neatly as that? And such a lot of them.

I always knew it was a gifted little creature .

Oh dear oh dear, this brings back all those happy times.

But there’s no time for repining. If Christmas really is coming, I suppose I’d better get ready for it.

Cards and gifts and puddings and decorations and a spirit of goodwill.

The days are very soon going to start to get longer, so that should make the goodwill part quite easy.

I’ll make three more telephone calls, and then I’ll start on the pudding. It should really have been made a long time ago.

I’ll cook it in my bicycle helmet.

While it’s cooking, I’ll do some more telephoning.

I happen to have a silver threepenny bit that I can stir in. But we’ll have to be careful not to break our teeth, or our beaks, on it. Or on the nutmeg, which is also very hard.

I’m beginning to feel goodwill already.

Oh. Some glitter’s fallen in. Now it will be a really festive pudding.

many worries, but new wheels; many letters, and lots of glitter

It’s dark and damp outside. And it’s not much better indoors. I wish I was in my cupboard.

But Jenny says I mustn’t stay at home moping and worrying.

Jenny’s a very practical person. She came straight round with her spanner and some stabiliser wheels.

They make all the difference.

I’ve only tried it indoors so far, but I feel much more confident on it now.

I’ll go out on the road again very soon, and I’m sure that a quick bicycle ride round the block will be just the thing to clear my brain and take my mind off my worries.

What I’ve mainly been worrying about is all of my friends who are off in unknown places, and I don’t know if they’re safe and well, or even alive, and whether I’ll ever see them again.

There’s Walrus and Bruno.

They went off months ago in search of freedom and pleasure.

Kimbleton Tardigrade has gone to look for them, and is heroically swimming all round the coast of Britain, checking all the seaside resorts that they may have gone to.

The Stork took Um and the Baby to somewhere where they could get help with their immigration status and associated matters.

I know the Stork will eventually tell me where they are , and I don’t like to nag. So far I’ve had no news.

I trust they’re safe and well.

Actually no, we can’t really trust that anyone is well at the moment. But I’m sure the Stork found them a place where they’ll be taken good care of.

Ruffy and Points are in prison somewhere, and I’ve been trying to find out where.

I’ve been telephoning prison after prison, pretending to be someone high up in the Police or the Criminal Justice system.

I started on the prisons that I’d heard of. But now I’m being more systematic.

I’m going through all the prisons in alphabetical order. I’m on the G’s at the moment.

Of course Ruffy and Points are no longer youths, but since they are quite small, it’s possible that they’ll have been sent to a Young Offenders’ Institution. So that’s more telephone calls to make.

I hope I’ll manage to get them home in time for Christmas.

One person I don’t have to worry about any more is Dillion, the Draig Gymreig.

After I inadvertently visited Wales, and sent him a harp, he began to yearn for the land of his fathers.

Eventually he set off to play his harp in the valleys and on the mountains of Wales.

Today there was a knock at my door. There was someone on the doorstep with a parcel.

I didn’t recognise him at first, because he was wearing a mask.

It’s a bit early in the year to be wishing me a Happy Christmas.

Let’s see. What is the date?

Dillion’s right. It is nearly Christmas.

Well, it really is hopeless now to think that I might find Ruffy and Points, and get them out of prison, and bring them home, before Christmas.

I should have been working harder at it. I’m not much of a friend. Why haven’t I been getting up earlier each day, so as to fit in more telephone calls?

Do the Prison Officers put up decorations, I wonder?

And make pudding, and give the prisoners presents?

Oh Ruffy. Oh Points. I’m sorry I’ve failed to find you.

As soon as I’ve tried Dillion’s Welsh Cake, I’ll make some more telephone calls.

Dillion’s wrapped it in Christmas paper. It’s very big.

And very tasty.

Last year I had Um and the Baby here at Christmas time, so of course I had to organise a bit of festivity.

But now it’s just me. And the cuckoos and the Stork, of course. I wonder if they’ll want to celebrate?

Oh, there’s the post. Lots of letters today.

I haven’t had any post for weeks. Gibbs says that the Royal Mail bosses have told the postpeople to prioritise the more profitable things, like heavy parcels.

Gibbs says that’s reasonable. It’s the duty of every company to make as much money as possible for its shareholders.

I wish Points and Ruffy were here. I’m sure they’d explain why Gibbs is wrong.

I remember when you could send a postcard for tuppence ha’penny and it would get there at least by the second post the next day. But of course Royal Mail was a Public Service in those days.

You can’t blame the poor postpeople. They’re worked off their feet.

In fact I’ll wrap up a slice of the Welsh Cake to give to Darren tomorrow. That’s my particular postperson.

I’ll save the rest for when Ruffy and Points come back.

I expect these are all Christmas cards from my friends. Very kind of them.

Oh.

No, they’re not Christmas cards. They all seem to be boring rubbish. That’s rather disappointing.

This one might be a card.

I think it must be, because the envelope is full of glitter.

My goodness, that is a lot of glitter.

Atchoo. Atchoo.

Yes, a beautiful card.

It’s a Christmas card from the Baby. I would recognise that style anywhere.

The Baby’s use of paint is unmistakeable. And it’s put glitter on as well, to make it really festive.

Never in a month of Sundays would I have guessed that I’d get a Christmas card from the Baby.

I feel quite… I’m overcome.

Just look at that. Isn’t it perfectly lovely?

And who would have thought that the Baby could write an X as neatly as that? And such a lot of them.

I always knew it was a gifted little creature .

Oh dear oh dear, this brings back all those happy times.

But there’s no time for repining. If Christmas really is coming, I suppose I’d better get ready for it.

Cards and gifts and puddings and decorations and a spirit of goodwill.

The days are very soon going to start to get longer, so that should make the goodwill part quite easy.

I’ll make three more telephone calls, and then I’ll start on the pudding. It should really have been made a long time ago.

I’ll cook it in my bicycle helmet.

While it’s cooking, I’ll do some more telephoning.

I happen to have a silver threepenny bit that I can stir in. But we’ll have to be careful not to break our teeth, or our beaks, on it. Or on the nutmeg, which is also very hard.

I’m beginning to feel goodwill already.

Oh. Some glitter’s fallen in. Now it will be a really festive pudding.