Right… Well… First off it’s PHOEBUS, not Phoebles, Phoebus The Shining One. That’s BUS as in red, ‘room on top’, not BULLS as in horns and poo!
So, this thaw thing woz really inconvenient ‘cos we gorra sledge anna Brockhousecorgisnowmobile thingy an’ down in the valleys woz all slushy snow an’ melting ice an’ the skid things dunna work proper. An’ we wuz forced up onto the ridgeways wot woz nice cuz we could see all about and where we woz goin’, burrit woz a bit windy. An’ the streams woz all swollen an’ surging with melt water an’ some of the bridges had got swept away so we had to go a long way round. Anyway it wuz fun sittin’ up on top of the sledge an’ luggage and everything an’ real excitin’ ‘cos we was doin’ a real rescue.
Anyway, somewhere north of Edinbugh Ginsbergbear’s i-Phone GPS stopped working ‘cos it was run out of electricity, burrit dinnermarrer ‘cos Boris still had his Dan Dare compass an’ that told the way… somehow. But Boris said we wuz running out of fuel ‘cos of the Brockhousecorgisnowmobile having to work so hard an’ that woz a real problem.
So, there we woz, pootling along on top of some hill, tryin’ not to run out of fuel an’ a bit worried, but norra lot. An’ Boris woz concentratin’ very hard ‘cos he said we woz runnin’ outta snow an’all an’ would haffta do summat about it soon an’ Ginsbergbear woz huddled up in a rug, wiyya hotwaterbottle, readin’ Moby Dick ‘cos he are nesh, burreye has got very woolly warm fur wot is impervious to the cold and wet and I woz lookin’ around and enjoying everything and I sees it.
Down below us woz a road and on the road woz a van wot wern’t movin’ an I jumps up an’ down an is shouting ‘cos Boris canna hear above the chuggin’ of the engine an’ he says,
An’ I says,
“Look there’s a van an’ it might have some wheels an’ we could make the sledge an’ stuff work wiyout snow.”
So we stops and discusses the practicalities of my idea an’ Boris and Ginsbergbear aren’t very optimistic an’ Strawberry wanna joinin’ in ‘cos he were being ockard. An’ then Boris says that the van looks a bit like the Vicecream van an’ there are people millin’ about down there. So we go for a closer look.
An’ guess wot. When we gets closer we can see Aunty Stella, in a boilersuit anna leather jerkin like a lorry driver an’ one of the van’s wheels is off ‘cos it has a flat tyre an’ Aunty Stella is rolling a new wheel up. An’ Ferdinand is there too, workin’ the jack, only he is a bit little an’ the jack is very big. Still he doin’ all right.
An’ we run down the hill shouting,
“Aunty Stella, Ferdy, Aunty Stella, Ferdy Aunty, Stella!”
An’ they look up an’ they shoutin’ too.
An’ we get to them and stop, an Aunty Stella wipes her swarfy hands on her overalls before she hugs us all.
Then Ferdinand tells us all about crashin’ an’ polar bears an’ wullufses, in an excited sort of way. An’ we tell them about losing my atlas wot woz old and dogeared, an’ about losing Bert who were old and dogeared too, but we woz sad. An’ we all says,
“Ah, well…” an’ all mucks in fixing the van.
So anyway, when the van’s mended Aunty Stella says,
“Stow your gear in the back.” an’ there will be plenty of room for all of us too ‘cos she has had a clear out. An Strawberry jumps in the cab wiy Aunty Stella and Ferdinand an’ we all climbin’ in the back ‘an WE ARE OFF!
An’ we are all singin’ Ten Green Bottles.
Extraspecial Ginger Cat,
Somewhere in Scotland.