Coming soon to a wall near you...

I decided that Sammy the Sika was going to need some company, so I went out and found Derek who said he would be only too glad to keep him company.

Excellent.

This was all conveyed at a distance of 249m, message delivered via a 6.8mm bullet travelling at roughly 635m/s.

All that remains now is to get a house with strong enough walls to hold him (and more room in the freezer)!

Derek the deer

'Rapturous' applause required.

Once again, despite the threat of coronary heart disease (from 7 KFC burgers), we appear to have cheated death.

'Rapture' not seen.

However I was looking forward to being beamed up to a cloud and watching the view from there.  Oh well better luck next time.

I think there are only two things better than the world not ending:

1) Watching England win the world cup later this year.
2)  Reading Harold Camping's excuses in the paper tomorrow (just hope he didn't strangle his ex-wife, garrote the bank manager and shoot his boss).

 what      the               hell?             house     ......       shaking                                  thunder                    and                                                            lightn               ning         tsu          ........         nami                   didn't......         get      .............             ........ sums                                                  wrong        .................
                            .............Forgive                             me                          ......             Lord!

Double Down, Double Up, Double Over!

Well now that my dear wife has put a strange sense of normality on the Blog, and no doubt shocked the 3.7 million readers out there by not typing ridiculous missives, I though it high time to return to random ramblings.

So here we are, a real need to share with you the latest import to the fine shores of this country.  And it comes at a time of controversy.  Prime Minister John Key has come under a touch of scrutiny that he has mis-sold New Zealand, and that it in fact is not as green as the '100% Pure' adverts has led certain intrepid travellers to believe.

Now me, being a fervent (and ardent) supporter of the green rolling hills, and babbling trout filled brooks of this fine country was dismayed when I found a source of pollution  far closer to home; one that tarnishes the reputation of healthy living that this country offers.  This is what I found......(and o.k yes tried myself...)

Pollution for the arteries!

Here are the brutal facts of this monstrosity!  480 calories (it only weighs 253g) of those 480 a rather tubby 220 calories come from fat alone (thats 25g of fat, oh yes).  Now moving on to salt....brace yourself....17.7g of salt!  Oh how good it should taste.....

It didn't......I was left feeling decisively rubbish; in fact like I had eaten 25g of fat and a lot of salt....funny that?  God, it doesn't even look that appetising! 

On that happy calorific note I shall end, thankful that I have run 2 half marathons this week, burning off enough calories to eat 7 of these.......feel sick at the prospect.....but what a man test.....an idea forms.....

Stroking the Donkey

Just thought I'd share a few pictures of our nursery school trip to Owlcatraz last week. We (Christopher and I) went together for moral support and were given two children to look after when one would have been plenty. We saw the usual petting zoo animals, including Groundskeeper Willie from The Simpsons, whose first words to us were "I'm feeding the chickens over here because if they go near the pig she'll eat them. You think I'm joking? Well let me tell you it's happened more than once. Did you know a pig can strip a human carcass in a few hours, leaving nothing behind but the top of your skull and your boots?"

We then turned around to see all the children lined up along the side of the pig's enclosure, hands underneath the post and rail fencing, tickling the pig under the chin. Two heart attacks later, it appeared that the pig was more interested in eating frozen hot cross buns than chipolata fingers. Thankfully (or sadly, depending on your take on badly behaved toddlers) no children were harmed in the making of this blog.

Jocelyn touches a big animal for the first time ever. I was so proud!

The child with her finger up her nose is called Zara. I like to think she is channelling the Royal family in this shot.

Best friends Jocelyn and Iliana

Jocelyn and Iliana talking to 'Storm'.

The child with her finger up her nose is called Jocelyn. She is channelling her father in this shot.

And finally Jocelyn stroked the pony and even fed him some grass.

Hickstead, Blenheim, Badminton, Burghley....Joss Scott is on the way.

The beginning of the end?

Hello and welcome to the Scott Musical Academy. So far she only knows one note (or perhaps two, depending on how hard she blows) - and boy is it squeeky. She is of course absolutely delighted to be playing the "flute like Dora's", who, for those that don't know, is her mother, cousin, sister, friend and daughter, or sometimes a combination of the five.

A virtuoso performance

To add insult to injury, I didn't wipe her fingers after letting her eat a chocolate biscuit, so the poor thing smells like butter and is doubtless filled with wet crumbs.

Needless to say, the dog is not best pleased with Jocelyn's choice of musical repertoire and has repaired to her bed in a grump.

As fas as other news goes, I have had an informative few days at the local Boys High School sitting at the back of science lessons, absorbing the atmosphere (and various underarm aromas) of the classroom in a bid to decide whether I can wait a year to learn to teach Biology of whether I should just cut my losses and take up Physics or Chemistry instead. I have come to the somewhat strange conclusion that it's Chemistry for me, and I hope to start a course of some variety in October of this year. For those of you who remember Mr Hart, of Stonar School fame, this is one in the eye to the most uninspiring, grey, over-the-hill teacher ever. Of course I was very fond of him despite the hideous comb over and resemblance to Hermann Munster, but I plan to do a whole lot better with my students than he ever did, and I promise faithfully never to give lectures on "Common Courtesy". Most of all, I promise never to touch a Nuffield Science textbook unless it is to throw it into the fire.