Yesterday's scores:
HULLO NOT-A-BEARS!
Ritey-ho! It haz tayken longer than I sed to get bak to yu wiv theez pikchers, becos theez wuns wer on Daddy's camra, an we cuddent find it!
Then, arfter we did find it, we fownd Daddy engrosst in a compewter gayme ov the Tour De France. Baysikly yu watch a bysikol rayce. Wich is not that eggsytin at the best ov times, if yu arsk me, an that's wen yu watch it on telly an hav adverts to look forward to. But never mind. It jus ment the pewter waz tyed up for a bit.
So! Larst weekend wen we wer at Granny's, Mummy sed, "Let's go to Canterbeary!" an so we ayte our lunch an then awl piled into the car: Me, Dilly, Daddy, Mummy, an Unkol Roy, Mummy's littol bruther.
Canterbeary is abowt 40 minits away from Granny's so Mummy had a nap on the way. An the way bak. She offen duzz that in cars. I'm a tad worreed cos I keep overheerin them tolkin abowt her lernin to drive.
Enyway, ferst I went along to say Wa-Heyy! to the Archbishop an his gaggle ov Bishops....
I arskt if they had enny Toblerone left but they sed they had scofft the lot errlier in the day becos they had to go to Cherch tonite. (If yu mist my explanayshun ov the link between Bishops an Toblerones,
yu can reed it heer!)
Then me an Dilly went explorin.... heer's the Cathedral gayte-
Corse, Dilly was all eggsytid cos Jesus was green....
This is the cathedral. We dident go inside cos thare wer alot ov boys in dresses doin posh singin. Yu kno, the type whare it goze all hi an yu carnt understand wat they're sayin so they keep repeetin it. (No, I don't meen Sting.)
Thare is lots ov old stuff in Canterbeary (eevn wen Daddy issent thare HAAAAAAHAHAHA). This waz the top bit ov a howse-
Evrywun taykes pikchers ov theez wuns-
Mor importantly, I fownd the best shop in the city-
In fakt, Bears wer evrywhare! Heer ar sum nortikol types-
They had a wee Pirate Bear wiv them. I told him I'd been to see The Pirates Of Penzance wen I waz on holiday an arskt if he knew it. He sed, "Aaaarrrrrh!" an winkt. Well, I THINK he winkt. It's hard to tell wen heez got an eyepatch on.
This Bear sed he waz calld Sheerlock arfter Sheerlock Holmes.
I arskt him if he liket to watch that medicol seereez on telly calld House, cos I rekkon sum ov that is Sheerlock Holmesy. House haz a doktor frend but he iz calld Wilson not Watson. An heez allways solvin cayse. AN he livs at number 221b! He confermd it! It IS baysed on Sheerlock Holmes! An he sed that this is wy, if yu look closely, thare is offen a Bear in Wilson's offiss. That's wun ov this Bear's cuzzins, parrently.
Arfter our tor we awl went off to find sum tea an cayke. This pub had a nice Celticky swirly thing goin on on this bit. I posed next to it in onnor ov my noze.
See that dayte? I explaynd to Dilly that it ment the pub waz older than sum countrys. She sat an thort abowt that for a long, long time an I waz pleezd abowt that cos it ment I cud hav my tea in peece.
Bye fer now!,