Play in a Day

Today I found Wilson in the Wilson Vermilingua OBE Museum of Old Stuff and a Robot, searching for my old guitar. He'd already unearthed my first-edition copy of the late Bert Weedon's Play-In-A-Day guitar tutor book, which I'd completely forgotten about. 

Having laboriously worked my way through this book in my youth, I wonder whether I should warn W that it takes way more than a day? I don't want to discourage him, so I think I'll keep quiet about it.

A career in teaching

Wilson has been considering getting a job as a teaching assistant. He says he has 'much wisdom to pass on to young humankind,' although he admits he's not overly fond of children, and he's quite impatient. 

It doesn't take a lot of internet research to discover the wages are far below what he considers fair remuneration for his wisdom and experience. Also, he was surprised to learn that he'd be expected to turn up every weekday! 'That would leave me no time to work on all my stuff!' he exclaimed, 'Next year's Grand Charity Garden Open Day, and the Wilson Vermilingua OBE Museum of Old Stuff and A Robot!'

I think he's now considering a different career path… possibly as a minstrel.

A touching presentation

Wilson has presented me with a card proclaiming me his longest-serving New Dad. By quite a big margin, apparently! 

I am touched.

I visit the Dentist

I had to have a tooth extracted yesterday. To his credit, when I emerged from the surgery mumbling incomprehensibly due to a mouth full of dressings, Wilson made a sterling effort not to giggle.

He insisted that the nurse give me an I've Been Brave at the Dentist sticker. It had a Fairy Princess on it.

The dentist told me to rinse my mouth regularly with warm salt water, but W insists on supplementing this with a mouthwash made from a decoction of ant. Apparently his mother, Mrs Vermilingua, used to give it to all her many children whenever they were suffering from any ailment, real or imagined. 

He's in the kitchen now, sieving a bowl of Ant Broth for my lunch. I expect this to be Nourishing rather than Delicious. Possibly neither.

Leonard Cohen

Wilson has declared that he is willing to give Leonard Cohen a try! 

Jan, a friend of his (of Wilson, not Cohen, as far as I know!) has suggested I start him off in chronological order with Songs Of Leonard Cohen while avoiding Death of a Ladies Man at all costs! 

This sounds like a very good plan, so I've copied Songs of LC onto the iPad and put the CD in the car stereo.

Open Day

For the last few mornings the heating has been coming on; the leaves are turning brown and falling from the trees and the wind and rain have been almost constant. There's no arguing, the Summer, such as it was, is over and it's really Autumn now. 

Wilson and I were chatting idly about the recent poor weather when he suddenly asked me the date. When I told him, his face fell. 'Whatever's the matter?' I asked.

'My Grand Charity Garden Open Day!' he cried, 'Now it's Autumn, almost Winter, the garden is windswept and waterlogged, the flowers are dying and I've forgotten to hold my Grand Charity Garden Open Day! This is a calamity! I shall have to postpone it until next year!'

Soufflé Boy

This morning I was woken from my Sunday lie-in not by the strains of Bob Dylan, but by an aria from Bizet's Carmen. A few minutes later, Wilson bustled in carrying a tray with my breakfast on it: an ant soufflé. W enigmatically told me that I could in future call him Soufflé Boy. I have no idea what's going on.

The soufflé was surprisingly un-horrible, though W did have to help me finish it. I left most of the ants.

Later, W confessed that he'd grown tired of waiting for me to start watching the new series of Dr Who and had watched the first episode last night, having been unable to sleep after reading his Leonard Cohen biography into the early hours.