In which Pom visits Malvern and gets damp

Having slept off my Scottish hangover and survived my time in Scottish porridge, I was bundled up for my trip to the big city. Unfortunatley I arrived in Malvern, where the bright lights are stars and the fast cars are Morgans, and they are a funny shape.
In fact, we were not even in the bustling metropolis of Malvern (average age 107, all of them bonkers), but even further into the depths of the country.

This is what they do for fun around here

Apparently, these are called hops. I would rather have had a bag of Skips myself. These tasted dusty and had no salt or artificial flavouring on them. Not what a snack-themed bear is used to at all.



After that I needed a drink, as I often find I do, so I went into the kitchen, only to discover a sort of chemical factory.




Apparently, this is called Skittles Vodka. Presumably, because it knocks you over like skittles. At this point, my host sort of disappeared and I could hear gales of laughter from the dining room. I think she forgot about me...so I helped myself. Bottoms Up!

The next day, to settle my stomach, we went to get some fresh air on the Malvern Hills. We stopped to admire the scenery, appernetly it is even more beautiful without the fog or the dog MacIntosh.

 

The water in Malvern is like wot the Queen drinks (GodBlessHer), so MumsNet royalty like me definitely needed a snoutful from St Anne's Well

I also suspect that the Queen (GodBlessHer) doesn't fall in and have to be wrapped in a towel. 

Then back to my host's house and a visit to her studio. No FlyLady round here, it seems. Perhaps 'studio' is a posh word for 'throw things through the door and shut it quick'

Here am I making a little travelling blanket....

....and playing in the Pom-sized ball-pool. Do I look like Whoopie Goldberg?

And finally I am packed into my new travelling case for my next adventure.

First Class; Port Out Starboard Home.

Pom Post the Third: Highland Fling

Dear Mumsnetters,

What blessed relief to be free of the Jiffy bag and meet my new hosts, who promised me a week of enlightening work experience, pleasant scenery and home comforts. But first, after a long journey North, I gladly settled down for a quiet night in.

I was eagerly looking forward to the beautiful mountain views. Unfortunately they remained mysteriously shrouded in cloud and gloom throughout my stay, although a few lungfuls of the bracing air effectively cleared the remnants of last night's Merlot from my system.

So my host tells me she's a vet, and having been a lifelong follower of Animal Hospital (love you, Rolf) I was excited to have the chance to see the glamour and excitement of the job at first paw.

I got myself kitted out and I offered my considered opinion on some cases

After the calls were completed we returned to base for some small animal work. My attempts at reassuring a worried patient weren't too successful.

To be honest, I'm not sure I'm cut out for this stuff after all, and I was therefore glad to discover that the following day was to be more sedate, with a quiet stroll through the woods to the duck pond in prospect.

I love to get close to nature, so in an attempt to escape from while playing with my host family’s exuberant children I deftly scrambled up through the branches one of the many ancient and beautiful trees.

Unfortunately part of it gave way under my vast bearish weight

and the resultant injuries led to another visit to my host’s workplace

Battered, bruised and wounded, I returned home for a soothing dram.

I honestly can’t remember what happened next, but my host family seemed strangely tight-lipped when they collected me the next morning.

So, that was my week here in the Highlands. I’m quite relieved to be heading South again, where perhaps (one hopes) my liver will enjoy a reprieve and I’ll manage to stay out of trouble … we shall see …

Happy Hallowe’en!

Love, POM XXX

Pom Post the Second: Pom's Adventures in Scotland

Dear Mumsnetters,

I must say it was not a promising start to my new adventure to be left languishing in a sorting office for several days till my host could be bothered had time to come and collect me. But I'm a forgiving bear, and ready to give the benefit of the doubt.

Arriving in this place called Edinburgh, I must say it was a relief to be quickly given the chance to catch up on "AIBU".

I was a little nervous about what to expect from my host family, especially after the balcony incident in Bristol, but I was quickly put at my ease with a nice version of a fruit shoot (absinthe, they called it).

Which led us nicely on to a bit of a sing-song. (Who is Donald, and why does he not have trousers?)

The next day dawned dreich bright and early and I was off on a trip to the city centre. It started off with great promise as I saw the outside of my spiritual home - Harvey Nicks - but sadly my Mumsnetter claims to have never been inside (hopefully I will be sent to a S&B thread regular next time).

The bus tour continued, showing me the sights of the Scott Monument...

... and a distant Edinburgh Castle.

Later I was taken to the university area, where I replicated a pose commonly exhibited by many of the students in this city, on their way home on a Friday night. The fag was not mine, honest.

I was grateful to have a quieter day planned for the next day, just a kid's party to go to. I enjoyed the jelly and custard and the party games, though wasn't too sure about the game called "bury the Pom Bear in the ball pit". Fortunately my host was on hand to pull me out.

Next day...

Well a bear doesn't like to complain, especially when being generously fed on a diet of Tunnocks tea cakes and Irn Bru, but they really do need to do something about the weather up here. I was taken on another day trip, this time to a place called Moffat in Southern Scotland, and it poured down without stopping.

This is me in front of the ram of Moffat. I wonder one day will there be a statue of me, perhaps outside MN Towers?

As I'm staying with a Mumsnetter, obviously much of my day is spent hanging around cafes sipping the odd macchiato and reflecting on the important topics of the day. Here I am - I'm the one in the MN scarf.

(Apparently Germaine Greer has one too)

Today was my last day in Edinburgh, and it was with a wee tear in my eye that I found they were holding a party in my honour. First the sweeties...

...and then the drink.

It's amazing how much whisky a small, stuffed bear can put away when he really tries.

I've been wrapped up for bed now and am finishing my blog before my next adventure begins. Who knows what delights or indignities await me??

Love,

POM xx

Pom Post the First (cont): Bristol and beyond (belief)

Today did not start well! I spent a long night on the cold, hard concrete floor after falling from the balcony after last night's revels. Ms Krog had to rescue me using a stepladder from next door. I almost wished I was back squashed at the Charity Shop but no, I have been chosen for this greater purpose.

What that greater purpose was for today would be was soon to become apparent. I spent the afternoon lazing in the sun with Fermit and her friends by Clifton Suspension Bridge picnicing on blueberries, pistachio nuts and Tuc Biscuits. (Honey anyone??) Then she announced we had to go see her horse. Somewhat surprised, but keen to be a bear of physical pursuits as well as of the mind, off I went. Yesterday I learnt all about helpful literature and "promoting growth in the local econony through independent consumer choice" (or mooching through the shops as Ms Krog calls it) To mooch is a dynamic verb, so there!

Artistic impression of me in front of the Suspension Bridge as the original has been lost to history

My first meeting with Nadir - apparently it is custom to Sniif First, Attempt to Eat Later. This is a very important lesson when handling livestock.

I was quick to observe there was a noticeable size difference. I measured him and he is 16. 2  hh (human hands high). In Bear Paws High, he would be about 41 BPH.

He had better not mistake my lustrous fur for the hay. 

The size difference in the so-called safety equipment was also inescapable to my observation.

Eventually I threw health and safety out the window and mounted, ready to spur on my noble steed...

Still no.

A process known as "grooming" - educated bear am I. This is a dandy brush. (His fur is not as lustrous)

Friends forever - carrot offered at end of the evening. Learniing about a horse's dietary requirements (i.e. *not* bears) was an important part of my day.

Nothing to see here. 

Lovely sunset at the end of a hot October day. (!)

 So that's it - my last outing with Fermit out and about in Bristol. I enjoyed meeting Nadir almost as much as I enjoyed the Tuc biscuits - and all that learning, obviously I will shortly be off to pastures new - once the hay has been brushed from my fur.

Pom x