GRANDAD'S MAGIC GARDEN & PEELED SHEEP

 

17th JUNE 2017

GRANDAD'S MAGICAL GARDEN & PEELED SHEEP

 

 

 

Hi Ewan here.

 

My Grandad and Mamma have a magical garden. Well that’s what Grandad tells us. But I think it is, really. He says there are fairies at the bottom of it. I think he’s probably right. I’ve not seen any though. But fairies are like that, they are like Santa, they make sure you do not see them.

 

Grandad says he’s seen them, but when you’re as old as Grandad you’ve seen everything. But he could be joking. Brother Rory always asks him if he’s joking. A Grandad joke is never funny or makes you laugh. When Grandad’s not telling the truth  that’s a Grandad joke. Like he says “There’s some ants. You’ve got ants in your pants” but it’s always untrue, I never have. It’s not funny but we still call it a Grandad joke.

 

Then there are Dad jokes. He says something funny and Mum doesn’t laugh and says it is a Dad Joke.

 

Then there’s the real jokes, when Mr Tumble on Cbeebies gets a custard pie in his face and trips over his own shadow. That is so funny and makes me and everyone laugh.

 

So Grandad might be joking about fairies but might not. When we went in the garden this week Mamma said he had let the lawn and weeds grow too long. She said she’d lose us. I think that was a Mamma joke.Grandad said he needed to let them grow so the tigers, lions, elephants and bears could hide in them. I don’t think that was a Grandad joke. Although we didn’t see any, but looking for them is part of what makes Grandad’s garden magical.

 

You would have thought we would have done a “Bear Hunt” or a “Tiger Hunt” or even best of all an “Elephant Hunt”, but we didn’t we did a “Worm Hunt”.

 

I think I explained a “Worm Hunt” last time. It’s like a bear hunt but no field to go through or stream, or wood or snowstorm or beach, and not so scary or dangerous. And you don’t find a bear at the end, just two or three worms.

 

It was brilliant though we found hundreds and thousands of worms, Grandad said six, but maybe he was joking or couldn’t count. He’s very old so he’s not very good at counting. He can’t count as many as thousands.

Grandad dug, Brother Rory picked the worms up and he put them into a small toy watering can which I held – the very best teamwork.

 

Grandad’s garden really is so magical. It is full of nature, wild animals and insects. The soil is full of worms and they provide food for lots of birds and animals: birds, foxes, hedgehogs and moles.

 

Moles eat lots and lots of worms and live underground. Although we dug deep we didn’t find any. Moles make mole hills in Grandad’s lawn. They have poor eyesight Grandad says but you never see one wearing glasses. He says if we see one we have to say to it “Should have gone to Specsavers.” Do you think he was joking?

There were loads of sparrows, pigeons and two blackbirds and one robin.

 

The pigeons are still not over happy because Grandad and Mamma had their trees taken away. Now my dad has put plastic spikes on our swing to stop them sitting on top of it and pooing on it. They are not happy. Well would you be if your bum was spiked every time you sat on the swing.

 

Grandad made us stop and listen to the birds singing, especially the blackbird. But I think he was joking. The birds don’t sing they whistle.

 

There are lots of insects busying themselves in the garden too, like the bee. Bee’s scare me. Grandad says the bee is so important we can’t exist without them. I think he’s joking. Bees are always messing around in flowers and then rudely buzz in your face. They wear yellow and brown woolly jumpers and really bite you hard with their bums. On top of that they make honey. Honey is sticky gooey stuff and horrible, too sweet to eat.

 

But spiders are brilliant and hairy. They are big fans of Spiderman, his comic and films, so big that they name themselves Spider after him and try to climb walls and have webs like him.

 

Grandad says at dusk bats fly near his window. Bats are big fans of Batman and named themselves after him and try to look like him when they fly, but they are a bit different because nothing can look like Batman except Batman. I don’t think they have a batmobile either. It is only because he is so good and kind that he lets bats call themselves bats.

 

Grandad and Mamma’s garden is so magical that if one of them lifts me up to look over the hedge, there are loads more animals and birds in the field. Horses, hens, geese and ducks. I like the horses best but where’s the pond for the ducks. They waddle around like a duck out of water.

 

Rabbits join them too. They sometimes come into Grandad’s garden. He says they think it’s Mr McGreggor’s Garden from the Peter Rabbit stories. He says he’s seen Peter Rabbit, but this time I know he’s joking. Peter Rabbit wears a blue jacket and not one of these rabbits have any clothes at all. And Peter Rabbit lives in a book not in a field at the bottom of Mamma and Grandad’s garden.

 

Brother Rory found a snail in Grandad’s Garden. Snails…move…along…so…slowly…as…slowly…as…this. Definitely too slow for me. I love speedy things, like a tortoise. They go loads faster than a snail. Or a horse. Or even faster still a big red car.

 

The afternoon was a sunny, June afternoon and just before Mamma fetched us in for a bath we found millions of ants. Birds love ants for tea, and dinner and lunch and breakfast and supper and any time really.

“You’ve got ants in your pants.” Said Grandad, and I hadn’t, he was joking.

 

Then for tea we had spaghetti.

 

“Yuck,” said Grandad, “You’re eating live worms in tomato ketchup.”

 

I knew he was joking. Well I thought he was but they did look like real worms and they did wriggle off my fork before I put them in my mouth. I was sure those I had eaten were wriggling about in my tum. So I  left them, just to be on the safe side you understand.

 

I do have lots of other great fun times, when Grandad’s not around. For example on Sunday 11th June it was Open Farm Sunday and Granny and Auntie Debbie took me and Brother Rory to a farm. I love farms. We saw a farmer peel a sheep. The sheep looked stupid after its peel had come off. The farmer just rolled it up. The peel that is not the sheep. I hope the farmer put it back on the sheep or he will be cold in the night in the fields. Dad said it was only like us having a haircut. I don’t think so.

 

We then went on to Cousin George and Cousin Freya’s house. I think it was to celebrate their Dad having a new shed, but my Daddy’s shed is bigger.

 

Bye Bye, Ewan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHECK OUT OTHER POSTS BY

2 YEAR OLD EWAN       1. 2 Year old EWAN'S Blog

 

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1 YEAR OLD GEORGE   2. 1 Year Old GEORGE'S Blog

 

 

©2017 www.jeanniejeanniejeannie.co.uk – Phil Robinson

 

 

 

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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