I later rejoined the party dressed as chest of drawers.  I was searched for family heirlooms.

The day ended with June crawling into her shoe and hopping home.

A day in the garden, smoke issuing from the bonfire on my shoulder.  We met the unicorns that have moved in next door.  They seem a nice family.

June then prepared a stew from lumps of ancient concrete and debris from moon landings while I mowed the lawn on the windowsill.  I buried the answer to the question I will never ask before coming in as Alexander the Great.  It was getting dark.

As an exercise in plastic living, we snuggled up into a crisp packet for the night.

Back to a more normal routine:  I sailed off in seach of a golden sheep in an old pram with sleeping bag for a sail.  I came back by a parachute I found in my ancestor's cave.  The old seer was well and laughed at my jokes.

I worked at the spinning wheel most of the day, making an old crone to tell fortunes and read the runes I had discovered in my breakfast cereal.

I had to go out in the evening.  I dressed in old cardboard boxes I found in a skip.

I was held in the two cathedrals of work for all of the day and most of the evening - the bats hung from the rafters and moved their heads as the beggars came in.  It was quiet and the people who stayed still turned into trees.

I didn't have time to invent magicians - however, I interviewed myself as I walked home.

We all awaited the girl with an axe in her handbag.

I was able to get into the mirrored room earlier today - not early enough, as I missed seeing a herd of American bison move through at dawn - the dust still hadn't settled when I picked up my brush; although it was turning red, white and blue.

I made a maze in my mind but managed to find the centre for a picnic with my wife at noon.  It then took all afternoon to get out.

The evening was spent in a witch's cauldron waiting for hair of bat and eye of toad to be tossed in on top of the vegetables.

A day on the ice cap (the first of the year).  It was so hot I nearly melted - June, my wife, likes to walk around as Cleopatra so we keep the house in desert conditions - I alternated between being a palm tree and one of the pyramids at Giza.

However, I was able to work in the oasis, which by mid afternoon had become a huge unblinking eye.  I swam in it (even though I can't swim), reciting abstruse verses.

I rendezvoused with myself in the evening and between us we made plans to meet a representative of the ancient fish people.

June went out early to work for the medicine man.  I decided to wrap myself in cellophane and walked to work casting ethereal shadows. Later in the day I invented a water container that doubled as a top hat and bought some stamps.

During the evening (while out) I wrote a song and then walked along it to the final chorus.  My footprints became an orchestra and the drunken passers-by sang along - going in reverse until they reached the beginning. 

When I got home, June had had a pill box in her lap and I became a prisoner of war.

When I (finally) burst out of the top of the old wedding cake I found it was a cold, dank and dismal day.  I tried to be industrious but the rope ladder I had to cling to while working in the sacred groves suddenly snapped and I landed with a bump in the old bass drum which we had kept in the shed.  When I came round all I had for company was a toad.

June has given up smoking - she has old railway posters on her arms.   Tiny doves rise from her headress while she reads from a book backwards.  I offer her a bookmark with a galloping horse on it.

Apart from finding an old hoover, once used by dwarves, today was not especially productive.

A day, during whuch I invented the perfect corkscrew.  I envisaged this turning for eternity while the universe cooled.  I had to make a race track in my studio but came last in the race.

After painting the Colisseum I went to the bull ring to clean bottles, making rows of little soldiers to bury with the Emperor.  The joker came in and they walked like cards.

At the end of the day I opened a can of sleep and hung curtains over the paintings on the bedroom walls so they could not see.

A frustrating day hanging from the ceiling light watching myself painting.  Apparently, I kept getting up and walking round the family totem pole.  This one had squat women all the way up and a freisian cow on top (holding an umbrella as it was spitting with rain).

I danced in the rain to the council offices, where I complained about the Earth's spin and the fact that someone had put a working model of the Titanic in our dustbin.  I then ran all the way back singing sewing machine songs at the top of my voice.

It wasn't a good evening as I spent most of it chasing squirrels up and down the tree that we had recently planted in front of the fire in the living room.

I was active in both arenas today (I had to get up early too! - I had to escort the wagon train through the canyon while the arrows whistled like television aerials).  I fought wild animals in the day time and christians at night.  However, I cleaned all ten green bottles before knocking them off.

The town was quiet, with only a column of army ants in evidence.  I picked up a lollipop and helped them across the road.  I saw a burning crucifix through the cloud over my head.

The evening, spent in a racing car, was better than some this year and I managed to polish the eye that never blinks.

Home all day; I kept watch other the remnants of the keep while the armies marched down the valley.  I tried to visualise this valley before a road was drawn all the way along it's length.  I was shaken from this reverie when a gash in the ground yawned.

I stepped back into my studio like Dr Who and painted a landscape on the inside of my briefcase.  Birds will sing everytime files are put inside.

The evening was spent in a solitary dance - outside a drummer slowly emerged through a wall and the young girls shook hot fat from their hands.

I had an early start; I jumped on my horse's back at 7am!  I went to the medieval lands, where the minstrel still hadn't finished his song.  I gathered up flower petals to give to the girl inside my bag.  We made plans for the flower garden while sparrows foraged for silver seeds.  I came home with golden eggs.

I finally sat down in front of my easel at 12 noon.  By then it was tired of standing and it sat down in front of me at five past.  We finally reached an agreement and I completed my painting in time to race Poppy to the Martian fields behind the nursing home.

I moved the windows and polished the wall while the faces stayed transfixed.

I had two heads today and spent most of it on a playmat where people throw furry balls at moving targets.  I was able to catch the ones with chocolates inside.  I then felt sure enough to go on parade with a serene expression on my face.  All the while, the famous general that lives under my hat was furiously working on plans that I will never be able to bring to fruition.

By the time my second head was on I was beginning to get weary.  However, I did have enough energy to salute the lone piper as he marched home at cloud height.

I got home with two sets of closed eyes.  My wife blinked as I simultaneously lifted two hats (and a stray polecat ran up my arm).

Went to the woods in my gorilla suit.  I was part of a team of undercover animals who were given odd jobs for the day.  One of our tasks was cutting down two large trees which had been spotted at the meeting place - who met there we never knew.  We also removed all the love notes from a field of young trees.  We left before they discovered they had gone.

The journey home was spent in remembrance of lost friends.  When we finally found our way home I was slightly alarmed to find that I was resembling an electricity pylon.  This was because I had mentioned, in passing, that I wanted to become part of the National Grid.

I got home and resigned myself to being a lighthouse.

I woke, slightly later than planned, to discover that during the night I had been accidentally screwed into the wall. When I unscrewed myself I looked round the room holding my screwdriver and then made a shelf for birds to sit on.  I pulled back the curtain while a white rabbit came out of the hat and a black one replaced it.

Most of the day went by with me working alone in my studio.  I was painting holes in the ground which I will have to fill in when the paint has dried.

I went to the diamond mine during the evening in an attempt to sparkle.

I jumped out of bed and rushed to town without shoes; June did not have any either.  I put several small pebbles into my pocket before I came home wearing someone else's clothes.  I had to give the package to my wife.

The afternoon was occupied with painting voices in a landscape.  Even though I mixed the paint carefully I could never work out what they were saying.

I found out when the funeral is.

The boiler blew up today!  Steam issued from the top and spread across the kitchen, partially obscuring a wood nymph who was nonchalantly leaning against the cupboard.  We are planning to get real wood furniture and I was getting advice from an expert.

Before this my CD player - which I have had since the Napoleonic Wars - broke.  Just as one of the fairies was getting ready to pirouette on the disc in memory of The Rake's Progress by Hogarth.  I discovered the fairies under the bed when I was searching for aliens.  The kittens looked on with blithe expressions and the dog was learning algebra.

Towards the end of the day I had a long conversation with a head that suddenly appeared out of the kitchen cabinet.

For a brief spell early in the morning, the bed, and to a lesser extent it's environs, became a primeval plain where great beasts roamed.  It took me a very long time to clean up the mess.  Since Thursday our only source of hot water was the kettle - today it broke!  I had to sail to a distant island - with black coloured sail - to get a new one.

I went out early to get beds for the cats.  They both wanted four posters

I had to go to the funeral today of an extremely good person.

I had a frustrating time not being able to settle to work in my studio.  This is partly because I have suddenly chains instead of hair and partly because of the sprite that climbed out of a box I found in the fields.  It will teach me not to bring strange things home.  I should have been suspicious when a cloud followed us all the way back.

I had previously sat by the railway line with Poppy tucked into the fish bowl which I was balancing on my little finger.  I was just going to spin a record when an old train with Pullman coaches flashed by.  All the occupants were dressed in the clothes of the 1930's.  I dropped a couple of 78s in the bowl like Alka-Seltzer in a glass.  Poppy borrowed my telescope.

I am keeping my matches in a box marked Prometheseus.