Mum and I had both already read Ed Stourton's book (Diary of a Dog Walker) and so we got those signed, but we hadn't come across James Landale's book before. It's called "Landale's Cautionary Tales: Comic Verse for the 21st Century", and after we'd listen to him read from it, Dad did a great job of dashing over to the bookstall, and claiming a couple of copies (there weren't many available as the book is now out of print).
We also got those signed, and at my request, James kindly wrote the following: "Jake, please note the open about Nicholas!".
The poem about Nicholas was the first one that he'd read during the evening, and it had struck a chord. From this extract, perhaps you can tell why:
His bed, of course, was never made.
His clothes were everywhere displayed.
Like so many north London boys
He never put away his toys:
Discarded teddies, bits of Bike,
Boring jigsaws he didn't like,
Remote-control cars, Model Planes,
Double-O gauge electric trains,
Unread novels, an empty box,
A bag of useless Sandstone Rocks,
Computer games, whose screens were dim,
An Action Man with a missing limb,
Cowboy guns, a festering sponge,
Batteries oozing Noxious Gunge.
It's almost like the author had been round to visit! When I came home on Saturday morning, I read the poem to Jake, and it got several laughs (of recognition).
As this photo demonstrates, everyone here was thrilled to see me when I got back home:
The other Saturday highlight, apart from the previously mentioned footie, was a super supper of Jamie's fish pie! I think that our resident chef will be receiving a request for a repeat performance in the near future.
