communication, adventure

communication, adventure

It’s been raining.

I’m tired of being indoors all the time.

But I’ll get on with my indoor things.

The bean doesn’t seem to mind being indoors.

It’s growing faster than me.

I’ll phone Ruffy. Today is his day for checking on poor Bimbo.

Ruffy’s very kind.

But I want to wander around and see what’s on the shelves.

I don’t have any ideas when I sit at home trying to make a shopping list.

And I want to pick the best carrrot, and the best bread roll.

Oh well, all things come to those who wait. Most things. Many things.

I’d better finish off yesterday’s task.

I intend to learn a new language, and I have to choose which one.

I did want to be able to talk to the cuckoos.

I didn’t get very far with that.

But I shall try to be more friendly with them than before.

Today I’m going to play a piece of cuckoo music on my triangle.

It’s by Nina Batschinskaja.

Of course I can only play the triangle line.

(If you’re reading this in an email, you may not be able to hear the lovely music – try the website instead: https://vulnerableteddy.com/)

We’re all practising our instruments in secret.

It’s going to be a surprise for Bimbo.

Before he got ill, he was starting to plan a Zoom Ensemble.

By the time he’s better, we’ll all be perfect at our parts.

Ellie is organising the children at the nursery where she works.

She hopes to get them more coordinated before the Ensemble is all put together.

And on the big day, her colleague will take the babies into a different room so that they don’t squeak in the quiet parts.

Ellies says they’re all enjoying it very much.

But I wonder if it’s right to keep it all a secret.

Perhaps we should tell Bimbo about it, because this is the exciting part of the Ensemble, when everyone is getting ready.

Ruffy says Bimbo’s bored, and I think it’s a shame he’s missing the fun of telling us what to do.

I’ll consult the others.

But to get back to the question of a new language.

Rufffy says that cuckoos are migratory birds.

I’d forgotten about the stork.

That’s rather rude of me.

Yes, there he is.

I think he’s more mobile than the cuckoos.

I’ll get the globe.

He can show me which part of the world he comes from.

We’re communicating!

The stork told me very clearly that he comes from Mali.

I’ll get my tablet.

I’ll show him all the languages I could learn on the App.

There isn’t one called Malian, but perhaps Mali is a country like Switzerland, with lots of different languages.

He can show me which one I should learn to talk to him.

No luck.

I wish I’d kept the rest of the scones.

I was so depressed at failing to communicate with the cuckoos, that I ate up all the leftovers myself.

Never mind, I’ll prepare him an attractive platter of tasty and nourishing foods.

He definitely liked that. He ate heartily.

And now he’s gone back up to his hook.

Communication is hard work.

I have an idea for some indoor excitement.

I’ve been sensible ever since I came out of the cupboard in April.

Life has been dull. Humdrum.

I know it’s not just me. It’s quite as bad for many people.

And some are even more restricted than me.

My friend in the Forest of Dean is in total lockdown in a sterile cubicle, because of being at specially serious risk.

He’s keeping his spirits up. He says he’s in Clockdown.

My young friends and neighbours have been doing their very best to keep me busy and amused.

But today I feel a need for excitement.

I can’t go out to a theme park, so I shall set up an exciting ride right here.

I’ve got out the slinky.

It is a long way down. There’s a lot of steps.

But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

This certainly is exciting.

Perhaps not very sensible for a vulnerable elderly bear with underlying conditions.

But a not-to-be-forgotten experience.

I’ll take some arnica now, and have a little lie down.