Tag Archive | Dylan

Bertie Saves The Day


Let’s all snuggle round the fire on this dark November evening and Oma will read you a story.  Wait a minute, let me give the coals a poke and release some more heat.  That’s better.  Now, are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin.

This is the latest in my stories about Bertie, the wise rabbit. In this story Bertie goes shopping for bananas, but when he gets to the supermarket he finds he doesn’t have his purse with him. ..

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Bertie Saves the Day

The animals in Hardwick Grove have always been the first priority to Mr. and Mrs. James who live at no. 38.  Recently things had changed.  There was a new person to take care of:  a small boy called Dylan, their grandson.  He referred to them as Granddad and Oma and he went to stay with them every Friday.  He was two years old at the time of this story.

Dylan loved bananas.  He knew that if he was a good boy, he would get a banana but today there was only one banana in the dish on the table.  Standing on tip-toe, he could just see into the fruit bowl.  Gripping the side of the table and standing on his tip-toes, he could see the stalk of the banana pointing upwards at the figure of The Green Man, which was hanging on the wall.  The Green Man smiled down at Dylan.  He could foresee the future and often gave a hint of what was to come by changing his expression.  Today he was looking benevolent.

When Granddad had finished his crossword puzzle and Dylan was finished playing with his circus train, Granddad stood up, stretched and asked Dylan the question he was waiting to hear.

‘Would you like a banana, Dylan?’

‘Eh!’ replied Dylan.  He couldn’t quite manage ‘yes’.

‘O.k., let’s see if there are any in the fruit bowl.’

Dylan ran and Granddad walked to the table in the dining room where Oma’s large, wooden fruit bowl stood.  Dylan jumped up and down in anticipation.

Picking up the banana Granddad unzipped it for his grandson.  He was just about to give it to him when the main part of it snapped off and fell to the floor right in front of Pippa, the one-eyed dog, who snaffled it immediately and then looked incredibly guilty.

Dylan went quiet.  Then when he realised what had happened, his eyes screwed up and tears began to spring forth alarmingly.  He found his voice and started to howl, at which point Pippa slunk away and hid under the sideboard.

Sitting in his house in the garden, Bertie, the wise rabbit, heard the commotion and decided to investigate.  He pushed up the top of his run with his nose and hopped up the garden path and in through the kitchen door.  Mrs. James was standing at the kitchen sink, wearing her best floral apron and washing some tasty-looking cabbage for lunch.

Bertie, being a magical rabbit; a tribute given to him by a recent visit from the fairy queen, was able to stand tall and wear clothes like the people who lived in the house.  He could also talk to the humans just as if he was one himself; although this was all temporary.

‘What’s all the commotion?’ asked Bertie of Mrs. James, who wiped her hands on her apron and turned to go into the living room.

Bertie soon understood what was wrong and kindly offered to go to Sainsbury’s and buy a new bunch of bananas.

‘That’s very kind of you Bertie!’ said Mr. and Mrs. James in unison.

Mr. James opened his wallet and found some money to give to Bertie.

‘Here, take my little purse,’ said Mrs. James, helpfully. She gave Bertie the little purse, which was sparkling with sequins all over it.  It really was very pretty.

Dylan had stopped howling and stared in amazement at Bertie, the wise rabbit, who stood in front of him resplendent in a beautiful brown tweed waistcoat and a pair of corduroy trousers to match.  Dylan had never seen such a big rabbit before even at the zoo where some of the animals were as big as a house and others had necks so long they could reach up to the clouds.

‘Off you go Bertie, don’t lose the purse.  I’m very fond of it.’

‘No, of course not,’ said Bertie, puffing himself up with importance as he hopped away out of the front door and up the street.

A few curtains twitched as Bertie passed by, but nobody came out of their house to stare.

When Bertie got to Sainsbury’s he soon found the bananas.  They were on a stand near the door all bright and shiny yellow.  He chose a nice big bunch and put them in his basket.  Then he got distracted.  He could smell carrots and sure enough there they were, lots of them on another stand nearby, all red and appetising.  Bertie’s tummy began to growl.

‘Perhaps I’ll just stop here and eat a few carrots to keep me going.’ He thought, but before he could indulge himself, a store detective came across and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Don’t even think about it, sonny,’ said the man, looking fierce.

Bertie was not a young rabbit, but the man couldn’t see that.  To him a rabbit was a rabbit and it ought to be back in its hutch or better still out in the fields somewhere.  Bertie took the basket to the check-out, but when he got there he couldn’t find the purse.  He hunted through all his pockets, there were six in all, but there was no sign of it.

‘Is there a problem, sir?’ asked the girl at the till, looking bored.

‘No, no problem,’ said Bertie, but my purse is lost, that’s all.

‘No money, no bananas, sir’ said the girl.

‘Yes, yes, I know’ Bertie answered the girl impatiently.

Then he said, ‘one moment, please keep the bananas, I’ll be back in a minute.’

He had seen a way out of his current dilemma and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity.

Two little old ladies were pushing their shopping carts over to the doorway.  Neither of them looked as if they could lift anything more than a feather hat.

Quick as a flash, Bertie was by their side and offering to help them take the shopping to the car, better still lift it into the boot for them.

The old ladies looked at Bertie and then at each other.

‘Do you see what I see?’ said Olivia to Amy.  ‘Is that a life-sized rabbit or are my eyes deceiving me?

‘Amy adjusted her glasses on her nose.’

‘It’s a rabbit,’ she replied, ‘and it’s talking.

Bertie followed the ladies out to their car and helped them to pack their purchases in the boot.

Afterwards one of the ladies gave Bertie a tip.  He put it carefully in his pocket where the purse should have been.

Bertie was a wise rabbit and this had been a good idea.  He pursued it until he had enough money to pay for the bananas and then he went back into the store and paid the check-out girl.

‘Found it then, did you?’ she smiled.

‘Not exactly, no,’ he answered, but I found a way around it.

With the bananas safely in a bag, Bertie left the shop and made his way home to Hardwick Grove.  On his way up the hill he had to pass a number of pyracantha bushes with their berries all shiny and red to tempt the birds.  Something else was hanging in the branches of one of them, something with sequins all over it, something that looked like Mrs. James’s purse.

‘It is Mrs. James’s purse,’ exclaimed Bertie, ‘but I can’t reach it.  I need a stick.’

He looked around for a stick but he couldn’t see one anywhere. Then he saw a dog carrying a stick across the playing field back to its master.

‘I know,’ said Bertie, ‘I’ll throw a banana.  The dog will chase after it, dropping the stick for me to pick up.  He pulled a banana off the bunch and put the rest of them under the bush till he came back.  Then he waited till the dog was looking in his direction, taking care that the dog didn’t see him. He didn’t want the dog to chase him or bite him! He threw the banana as far as he could across the field.  The dog chased after it.  Bertie came out of hiding and ran fast across the field to pick up the stick.

When he got back to the safety of the bush, the dog was back with his master.  He dropped the banana at his master’s feet and was looking around for his lost stick.

Bertie was out of breath.

He poked the stick into the bush until he freed the purse and then put the purse back safely into his pocket.

‘Now to get these bananas back to Dylan.’

He bounded along, swinging the bananas round in circles inside their Sainsbury’s bag, until found the sign for Hardwick Grove came into view.

‘This is it.’ He smiled.

When he got in, he looked around.  The people were all in the back room, watching television.  Bertie emptied the contents of the purse into Dylan’s piggy bank and then took the bananas into the back room and gave them to Mrs. James.

‘Thank you Bertie.  You are a good rabbit.  You’ve saved the day.’

Bertie says ‘Always keep your valuables in a safe place.’

Dylan is two!


There was much excitement here in the cottage at the weekend.  My grandson Dylan is two years old and he had  a party with lots of friends. It was very noisy and fun.

This is his birthday cake.  He’s very into Ben and Holly’s Magic Kingdom at the moment so of course the cake had to reflect that.

Just look at his face when his mummy shows him the cake.  He’s so pleased isn’t he!

This darling little boy is the apply of my eye and I can hardly believe he is two years old already.

Woolly scarves and grandchildren…


Well he got it! the scarf I mean.  I wrote about it here… It arrived on Wednesday, which happened to be a special day for his mum! It was her birthday.  The parcel fitted through the letterbox so Dylan was able to open it himself.  Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of him opening the parcel but here he is at the end of a long, tiring day in London when he went to visit the dinosaurs!

Looks like they had a great time, doesn’t it!

Dylan came to my house today and we had lots of fun playing with his circus train. It was great to be with him again. In the few weeks I’ve been away he has grown a little and increased his vocabulary. He now understands ‘too high’ ‘too hot’ ‘too big’ etc. and he can count to ten, although it is parrot fashion. He doesn’t understand the concept of counting beyond two yet.

We had fish fingers and baked beans for lunch and he had chocolate pudding for dessert. That’s a sort of yoghurty pudding over here and he loves it.

In the afternoon I made him a tunnel for his train to go through. I upturned the clothes airer and put a dark green tablecloth over the top of it. It looked like a big hill or mountain and served the purpose really well.

Tomorrow night he’s coming for a sleepover.

A Woolly Scarf to Keep You Warm!


The other day the wind was chilly!  I got to thinking about a little boy, 4,500 miles away and so I got out my knitting needles and some bright, pumpkin coloured wool.

I started to knit and the knitting began to grow…

The needles were sharp, just like the wind.  They flew on the breeze as the leaves began to come down.

With my tape measure I measured, yes that’s coming on…

The pattern had told me just where to cast on…

I looked at the end result with a puzzled frown. Something is missing? I know a fringe must hang down.

Something to tickle a dear little face with smiles and giggles all over the place…

As the clock ticked, the winds blew; a cat slept in the room

…and a certain little somebody is going to get a parcel in the mail soon!

A Grandad is someone who has silver in his hair and gold in his heart!

Dylan Update


Apparently Dylan likes to drive the car! well, pretend anyway. I miss his sweet little face while I’m over here but I’m glad to know that he’s thriving and growing and getting ever more cute.

He’s nearly two year’s old and it doesn’t seem possible that I have been a grandma for that long. I revel in it, but it is hard work. He’s a busy little fella and it’s hard to keep up with him.

When he comes to my cottage in England he likes to do all the things we usually do, in the right order. Does that mean he’s going to be a good organiser, I wonder? He has his routine and he keeps his grandad and me on track every step of the day.

The last thing we do, while we’re waiting for mummy/daddy to come and fetch him, is to watch Peppa Pig on the dvd.  He LOVES Peppa Pig and he isn’t alone.  Peppa Pig is very very popular in England. Click link to find out why!

Here’s Dylan in a wetsuit.  Why you ask?  I have no idea.  Perhaps he was playing with the hosepipe in the garden.

In the next picture I think he’s eating a sweet. He looks a little guilty, doesn’t he!

The other day I spoke to his grandad and he told me a funny story that happened last week while Dylan was with him.  They went shopping to the big supermarket up the road and because they didn’t have many items in the basket, Grandad decided to go to the self service check-out.  He prides himself on being able to use that by himself (Grandad I mean). Next to him was a man who was doing the same thing with his own purchases.  His alarm kept coming up.  It kept saying ‘unidentified item on the shelf’. The man was getting annoyed and very tutchy. He started grumbling.  Grandad had no idea until he turned round that Dylan was putting his lamby on the shelf next door and it was causing havoc with the machine!

I’m still smiling over that story.

Cheeky little chappie, isn’t he!

In the pink with my Grandson Dylan.


Before I start this post, I just want to say thank you to all the people who are following my Blog.  I hope you are enjoying it and will continue to visit me in the future.

After our long awaited week of sunshine, flowers started appearing all over the garden. The roses seemed to like the sun and turned their faces to their almost forgotten friend.

This rose, Apricot Abundance, has at last come into its own, although on the second flush it’s more pink than apricot.

Dylan took his turn at watering the flowers and was most enthusiastic about it.  Notice in the background that the geraniums are flowering at last!

Dylan was most particular about filling the jug to the top to water the borders.  It must have been quite heavy for him.

The next picture shows Dylan standing next to his very own runner bean plant (in the tub). He planted the seeds himself and is watering them regularly. With the arrival of the sunshine, he now has lots of flowers, which will make lots of beans.  We await the first bean with anticipation.

I haven’t been so lucky with my Sweet Peas, which are in the smaller tub. They have been a disaster so far. I’ve had one measly flower and nothing since. Oh dear.

and to finish, here is a short video of Dylan with his jug. Hope you enjoy. I can’t help chuckling when I watch it because towards the end he takes the very big green watering can, empty otherwise he wouldn’t be able to lift it and takes both it and the jug to the borders. It’s so funny. See what you think.

Happy Gardening People.

Oma

Balloons! – Life Should be Fun!



What is a young man to do when it keeps on raining outside and he can’t go in the garden to play?

Why, play with a balloon, of course!

He can have lots and lots of fun and forget all about the nasty weather…

If only it would keep still for a moment…

He could make a grab for it!

But then, all of a sudden…

There was a loud BANG and the balloon was no more…

In my book, ‘Murder in the School’ under my pseudonym Amanda Marigold, there is a chapter on balloons. The book is available for purchase in the Kindle Store at Amazon.com

‘Chapter 6

Balloons!

It took a long time for Miss Pink, the teacher in charge of the Nursery Unit, to get all the Nursery children back across to the Nursery after the fiasco in the hall that day.  Once they were settled she went into the Nursery kitchen to make a cup of tea and calm herself down.  While she was waiting for the kettle to boil she heard the telephone in her office ringing.  Quickly she went to answer it.

“Can I speak to the Head teacher please?” said a cheerful voice.

Miss Pink explained without going into too much detail that the Head teacher was unable to come to the phone just now and asked if she could take a message or get the Head to ring  back?

“Yes, please.  My name is Alex and she knows the number”.

Miss Pink’s heart skipped a beat.  She touched the drawer of her desk.  Inside was a letter from someone called Alex to the Headteacher, Ms. Gardner.  Miss Pink had found the letter on the floor of the Nursery on the fateful day at the start of term when Ms. Gardner had observed the Nursery.  So far Miss Pink had not had the courage to return the letter to Ms. Gardner.  You see she knew what was in the letter.  Curiosity had encouraged Miss Pink to read the letter and now that she had she was unable to give it back.  Now that she knew what the words said she would have to be very careful.  The future of the school depended on it.

Two weeks into October and a consignment of blue balloons arrived at PrimrosePrimary School.  There were 500 all together; one for each child and one for each member of staff and a few spare.  They were to be blown up, messages tied on and launched into the sky to celebrate the official opening of the new amalgamated Primary School.  Reporters from the local newspaper were going  be present taking photographs to mark the event and the local MP would cut the ribbon to release the balloons.  The children were very excited.

Mrs. Smithers (the part-time School Secretary), had a special room upstairs in her cosy cottage at Wood End.  This is where she kept her ingredients and where she made her spells.  Shelves on the walls displayed rows of round glass fish bowls.  These were ideal for holding the ingredients because they could be seen at all times and she could find what she wanted quickly.  The glass fish bowls held such natural forms as shells, feathers, rose petals and pine cones.  Mrs. Smithers reached up and took down a blue balloon and some coloured stardust.  Next she reached up to the highest shelf and took down her hazel wand.  Mrs. Smithers’ three black cats watched her.  Their names were Sparkle, Little Mo and Bast.  Sparkle was a longhaired beauty, mostly black with a white tummy and white socks.  Little Mo was a small, pretty cat, shorthaired, also with white socks.  Sparkle is her mum.  Bast was a very large male cat, mostly black but with a white bow tie.  He was very greedy.  They each had their own basket in Mrs. Smithers’ upstairs room and helped her with her spells.  When Mrs. Smithers cast her magic circle she always made sure that the three adorable black cats were inside it so that they come to no harm.

Gerald was the caretaker at PrimrosePrimary School.  He wore a large bunch of keys at his belt and with these he could access every room in the building.  He had had a shady past and could always be relied upon to GET things.  He always knew the right person to ask when something unusual was needed and he could usually manage to GET things a bit cheaper.  He had purloined some canisters of gas to fill the balloons for the Grand Opening and these he put in the spare classroom with the balloons.  During the morning of the big day Mrs Wales, the General Assistant, together with some parent volunteers and a member of the Governing Body, set about filling the blue balloons with the gas.  The gas canisters were old stock and there was leakage occurring.  This caused the ladies to start giggling and when they spoke, lungs full of the laughing gas, their voices sounded just like Donald Duck.  Ms. Gardner, patrolling the corridors as was her wont in the mornings, stopped outside the spare classroom and peered in through the glass window.  What she saw were the ladies inside acting as if they were drunk; laughing and rolling about amongst a bright blue sea of balloons.  Ms. Gardner pushed the door open and stormed in “What is going on in here?” she demanded to know.

“Ah ha ha ha ah ha ha”, giggled Mrs. Wales.  “We’re blowing up balloonoohoonzzz, ahh ha ha ha.”  Try as she might she couldn’t stop laughing.

Balloons were whizzing about in all directions .

“Yes, Ms. Gardner, ha ha ha ha , we’ve nearly finished”, said a usually dignified Governor.  “only we can’t stop laughing, ha ha ha ha ha hee hee.”

Ms. Gardner, her face like thunder, exotic perfume from Marrakesh filling the air,  slammed her hand on the desk and insisted that they came to their senses.  Tears of laughter were streaming down the faces of the volunteers and then, miracle of  miracles, Ms Gardner started to smile herself.  Quickly she left the classroom, closing the door behind her and thought to herself “They’re all mad!”

That afternoon the Grand Opening of Primrose Primary School took place.  All the children were excited to see the filled balloons.  They were kept in the spare classroom until they were needed and then they were brought out carefully and secured under a net in the playground.  Four ribbons tied the net to four chairs and another ribbon was in place, ready to be cut by the MP.

Mrs. Morgan, the MP, one of the Governing Body and Ms. Gardner walked out of the staffroom and into the playground for the opening ceremony.  Parents clapped loudly.

“The children have been writing messages to send away with the balloons when we release them” said Ms Gardner.  “We are hoping that some of the balloons will travel a very long way and spread the news about our new school.”  She turned to the waiting crowd of children, reporters and parents.

“I would like to introduce you to Mrs. Morgan, our local MP, who is now going to cut the ribbon, declare the school officially open and allow the balloons to travel far and wide” said Ms. Gardner.

Mrs. Morgan stepped forward, made a short speech and used the scissors to cut the ribbon.  Ooo’s and ahh’s from the children sent the balloons on their way with lots of little message cards fluttering like butterflies underneath.

Ms Garner had been standing amongst the balloons when the ribbon was cut and some of the cords had become caught around her arms.  This coupled with a sudden gust of wind of gigantic proportions and Ms. Gardner was hoisted into the air with the balloons.  Her legs dangled down beneath her as she was whisked right up into the air and dropped a few seconds later on to the roof of the boiler house.

“My God”, said Mrs. Van Gogh,(the art teacher), “Did you see that?”

Cameras were clicking away in gay abandon, taking full advantage of Ms. Gardner’s undignified landing, legs akimbo, either side of a chimney pot.

The smallest child in the Reception Class was the only one to see Mrs. Smithers clicking her fingers just before Ms. Gardner “took off” into the sky.

“How do you do that?”, she asked.

“I’ll show you tomorrow”, said Mrs. Smithers and the corners of her mouth turned ever so slightly upwards.

“She’ll be furious when she gets down”, said another voice, hiding her giggles behind her handkerchief.

“Fetch Gerald!” said someone else.  “Fetch the caretaker”, “Gerald, Gerald, Gerald.”

Two days later a blue balloon came to rest in a market in Marrakesh, which was the very place where Ms Gardner had purchased the exotic perfume, which gave her such a distinct aroma when she passed by.  Tied to the blue balloon was a small ticket which said “A. Gardner,  Langwitch, England.”’

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and just before you go, I want to bring you some real joy, although you might want a hankie close by! Please click here to watch a wonderful film called ‘The Red Balloon’, made in 1956.

I told you it was good, didn’t I.

I hope my post today has brought you much happiness.

Dylan (My grandson) update – in the garden with Oma.


Dylan just loves to help out in the garden, especially on a sunny day!  Well we haven’t had many of those lately, so we have to make the most of the ones that we do have.

He loves to plant seeds and water flowers. Here he is watering my Sweet Peas:

He’s a busy little fella, isn’t he.

I especially wanted to show you how he has been learning where his food comes from. Click on this link:    to watch a short video of how he learned to shell peas last Friday.

It’s great being an Oma and sharing in the learning process.

Star

My grandson Dylan – update


This is my grandson Dylan, eating his tea at my cottage yesterday.  I introduced you to him last week here. He is 18 months old now and a typical mischievous child for his age. He’s curious and likes to know what everything is or does. He’s like a sponge, soaking up information from all around him.

Every week something delightful happens when he comes to visit. Yesterday I took him shopping and for a change from yoghurt, I bought him four chocolate puddings.  He likes to eat those himself and does really well with his spoon. At lunch-time we had fish fingers with chips and sweetcorn and tomato ketchup (he loves that) and he had his chocolate pudding for dessert.  I wasn’t sure if he would like it, but he did, very much.

Then at tea-time (see above picture) he had sandwiches with chocolate sprinkles in, cheese and Pringles. When he was finished he offered up the dish to me and I thought he’d had enough. I took the dish into the kitchen and came back to remove his bib. Then he got into a strop! ‘bib on’ he roared, which came as a complete surprise to me because he usually wants the bib off, not on. Puzzled I said to him, ‘I thought you’d finished your lunch?’ but he kept shouting, ‘No, pingit, pingit.’ I didn’t know what he meant and he was frustrated because he couldn’t make his silly Oma understand!

After a bit, I realised he was saying ‘bring it’ not ‘pingit’ and then the penny dropped.  He wanted another chocolate pudding and he wanted his grandad to bring it in. Once we got that sorted, we were ok. Grandad brought the chocolate pudding in and Dylan ate it up beautifully.  However…. when he’d finished he wanted another one! Now that was asking too much. I didn’t want him to be sick and he really had had enough so I said ‘No’, firmly and removed the bib again. You can guess what happened next.

The moment soon passed and peace returned to the room. The event went into my memory bank to cogitate on later and he was collected by his mum to return home with a full tummy having had a happy day at Oma’s cottage.

You can see a little video of Dylan eating his tea here.

I wonder what will happen next week?