Here is a crocus
Mr. Arthur and I have taken up Pilates!
This is a very good thing for everybody to do, not just teddy bears. Mrs Linda Macaulay, who is a greatly respected Pilates teacher and friend of Mr. Rick says this:
“Pilates is a unique and wonderful approach to exercise that can help you develop greater body awareness, improve posture and increase flexibility and ease of movement. The exercises are particularly beneficial for people who suffer back pain, and are a great help in all sorts of physical rehabilitation, including recovery from the after effects of cancer treatment.”
Here is a picture of her doing pilates … coming soon
Some of you may know Mr. Barrie who went off on adventures to the Czech republic. Apparently is very exciting place with bears and tigers and giraffes so I would like to go of course, Mr. Rick please!
But this is not likely soon so I shall stay on the point – Mr Barries’s friend Jirka is … What? Sorry? I must use his proper name? Ah yes! His proper name is Jiri Ptacek Magic Artist but without the Magic Artist bit which I put in myself, because it is true.
Mr Rick has been making him a website which is here – www.jptacek-fine-arts.com. I like the website because it has lots of pictues all painted by Mr Jirka! Here are some of my favourites …
But there are so many! You must go to the website and have a look. Lots of them are bright colours which is very good for dancing! www.jptacek-fine-arts.com/en/dokonaly-svet.php, and if you want to be clever you can read all about it in czech language!
Have a nice day!
So …. Mr Rick is confused and troubled. He cannot get to the postbox to see if there is any post because he has lost the key!
This happens lots of times – get key, get Gwen, get post, get busy somewhere else and then FORget key!
It could be in trouser pocket, or on Granny Westhorpe’s welsh dresser, or in the Barn with the bluetits, or … UP MR. ARTHUR’S SLEEVE!
How? Why? Mr. Caerthan thinks it is a stitch up – Mr. Rick framing Mr. Arthur, but I know better than this. That Mr. Arthur is chuckling under his breath as he looks to the sky in innocent bear-wonder. Not so innocent, I think!
Mr. Caerthan is too trusting …
Actually, Mr. Arthur is just being helpful, and surprise surprise I knew about it all along! Yes! I did!
What happens is this ….
Mr. Rick is confused and troubled. He cannot get to the postbox to see … but you know this part already. Some time later, he is in time-for-bed, still confused, still troubled, when he sees the key under the cosy secondhand longjohns at the foot of the bed. It all becomes clear.
He has got key, got Gwen, got post, got busy somewhere else and put key in pocket of trousers. The key falls out of the trousers onto the bed and is lost in the cosy secondhand longjohns. Ta dah!
At this point I am busy unwinding Mr. Rick from the long day, and so rather than Mr Rick get up to put key in safe place,, Mr. Arthur puts the key in safe place into his jumper. Chung Fu has NO sweater or I would have done so myself.
So, nothing untoward going on in Pistyll Gwyn, and everybody is happy.
Mr. Rick – go to postbox!
Well! Some excitement here, but most important for me, I am not a retired teddy! Hurrah hurrah! Happy days and more happy pages lie ahead. But I must tell you what has happened.
They did indeed come for Mr. Rick – all trumpets and “ah ah ahhs” and lots of flashing lights which was very pretty. We all watched from the bedroom window, but poor Miss Gwen thought it best to go under the bed. Mr. Herbert was nowhere to be seen – this stuff is not for cats.
Mr. Caerthan was scratching his head, and not quite sure what to do, but then Mr. Rick comes running out of the barn with the pitchfork and makes some very good jabs at some angel who is about to divest him of his wellies, beloved shorts and smelly jumper. A second angel held out a sparkly standard issue heavenly robe.
Mr. Rick (slightly anxious): “There’s no way in hell am I wearing that, and I’m not going anywhere without my dog or my teddy!”
I felt a glow of pride, but did wonder about poor Mr. Caerthan and Mr. Herbert who weren’t mentioned in the heat of that extraordinary moment.
The trumpets and “ah ah ahhs” all stopped …
A very po-faced angel thundered – quite unpleasantly, I might add: “No teddies or animals allowed – it’s in the bible.” I have always known that book is most unfair.
Mr. Rick stood his ground, pitchfork held high.
A slightly nicer angel had a go: “There really is no choice, now just put on the robes.”
Mr. Rick stood his ground – jab jab.
The angels did a bit of murmuring in the corner by the cherry tree, and finally Slightly Nicer Angel said: “Okay. We’ll make an exception. You can bring your dog and the teddy. Now put on the robes.”
Well, I thought that was it. I turned to look at my good friend Mr. Arthur – was this an unexpected and sudden goodbye? I felt a great sadness come over me. Normally a teddy is glad to accompany his or her charge, but on this occasion I could not help but feel some trepidation – me and Miss Gwen were about to go where we were not welcome. Miss Gwen had shuffled up to the window, but returned to the safety of the bed – she obviously did not like the idea either.
Mr. Rick: “So … I can take my dog …”
Slightly Nicer Angel (getting impatient): “Yes!!“.
Mr. Rick: “… and my teddy …..”
Slightly Nicer Angel (hissing and not so nice now): “YESSS!!!!“.
Mr. Rick: “So … how about a couple of alpacas?”
At this, Po-faced Angel made a most terrible roar. I am thinking the barn roof will come off and I hope the blue tits are safely in their nest. With a big crash and more trumpets they were gone (the angels and trumpets not the bluetits). I have to say it was all very grand!
At Pistyll Gwyn, we had sore ears and Mr. Rick was looking a bit silly with his pitch fork.
Mr. Caerthan said: “So what are we having for tea? Doctor Who’s on in half an hour.”
I am thinking “Oh oh … today is the day when all the good people are taken off to heaven to wear white robes and play harps nicely, so Mr. Rick will no longer be under my care and guidance – what will I do?”
Mr. Rick is a good man, but I think he will get bored myself. As his honourable teddy bear I only want what is best for him, but it is hard not to spare a thought for myself. Mr. Caerthan won’t be going. We are sure of that (Mr. Arthur has worked wonders but there is a long way to go). So I will stay here with him, Mr. Arthur and Roadkill, but a teddy bear with no charge … doing what?!? Maybe if Mr. Caerthan would take me back to Taunton Deane I could start all over again.
But that was such a long time ago … I was not so saggy …
Up until yesterday, we were not sure about Mr. Rick. It is not enough that I say he will be captured – sorry, raptured. After all I am very biased. Mr Arthur and myself have been discussing for some time – I say “yes!”, he say “no!”. Yesterday however, Roadkill piped up.
Now Roadkill doesn’t say a lot. He sings happily pretty much all of the time (for teddy ears – people ears only when they listen hard or have been playing with magic potions), but when he actually woofs it is major sparkles, and he woofed: “without a shadow of doubt Mr. Rick will be going”. He has it on highest authority!
Highest authority? Authority is a messy business, but with Roadkill that can only be Olive-Bless-Her-Soul? I think so. Who knows, Roadkill moves in mysterious ways.
So … today big changes are happening. The only good thing I can think of is that it is happening at 6 o’clock, which means it should be over before Dr. Whoo! starts at 6.45. Of course I may not be in the mood for watching it by then …
Arthur says I have had a good ride, and will have many happy memories, but I shall miss Mr. Rick very very much.
Here is a very happy song from Mr. Rick about woods and trees and islands. Before the song was not quite so happy – sleeeepy.
Actually, the place is Isles of Scilly. I went there with Mr. Rick! Here is a picture to prove it …
Okay! I know this picture could be anywhere, but it is NOT! It is the Old Farmhouse at Old Town Bay. Very lovely! Go there if you like it quiet. Don’t go if you like it noisy.
Mr. Rick’s music is good for dancing, but not too noisy. Like Isles of Scilly.
Mrs. Mary is smiling and laughing, like she always did when she was alive.
I will sing and dance for her with Mr. Rick’s song Island Heartbeat!
If you want to hear more of Mr. Rick’s music go to his website: www.westsongs.co.uk