01/10/07: I read one of the notes glued to the inside of the capsule before the rocket motors were engaged and it was propelled through the launching tube.  The note was concerned with the issuing of the correct numbers of toilet rolls.  I wrote the longest message in the world on one of these before riding to town on the back of a frozen ice horse.

02/10/07: I crawled out of the letter box and slid to the ground using an old pair of my wife's tights.  I was much later than normal in performing this manoeuvre although I had already performed it inside an empty TV and a crowded goldfish bowl.  I passed the Emperoro Nero on the way to town and I pulled out one of the feathers from my head dress and gave it to him.  He gave me the thumbs up.

03/10/07: I rushed home from the cacophanous caverns cut into the mercantile cheese so I could be the world's first digital mouse - I then fed the cat.  I cleaned the vast halls of Valhalla; sweeping the dust under the fallen warriors to save time.  When I had saved enough time I used it all up working in more dimly thought caves - this time cut into the Antarctic ice cap.

04/10/07: I sailed alone in my match stick boat under the scratch marked sky.  I parked it in a tree and slipped on a coat of apples and bananas for comfort.  I drunk tea with the kindly old sea god before swimming up the waterfall.  The waterfall became an anaconda  and I became a stick thrown by a hirsute member of a race of giants who ruled the Earth before the rabbit kings.

05/10/07: I felt depressed all day as I paddled in the murky existence stained water that had collected in an asteroid crater after the model Earth my other self lived on had ceased to exist.  I pulled a crocodile out of one back pocket and a capsule of rampaging Mongol warriors out of the other.  I gave the capsule a shake to see if any artificial snow would descend.

06/10/07: Most of today was spent with the fire twins; flaming hair strands and pythons rolled up in chewing gum packets.  We managed to discuss the question of mortality while mayflies played on giant tortoises back.  I played my music on the turntable inside my head while they pulled rope ladders from their clothing.  I spent the evening with Komodo dragons.

07/10/07: I was standing on a sabre tooth tiger's back in the Mid-American tar pits, feeling depressed as a traction engine rolled over my hypothetical soul - which I keep in it's Sunday best clothes.  Despite the old man clinging to my shoulders on the wrong side of the river I managed to tend the flock of sheep plants in their Alpine chill.  I then went to a deserted desert to stir the ashes of my dream ancestors.

08/10/07: After going to bed tied to a space craft shaped like an electric guitar I woke in the Russian Tundra holding the frozen remains of a woolly mammoth.  I pulled the map of a mysterious star constellation  from the rim of my hat (itself based on the plan of the Hoover dam) and started a new regime in the shop which had just been swallowed by a great white sperm whale.  I went home disguised as a horoscope - which I refused to believe when I read it.

09/10/07: Another paper aircraft day, with the part covered by sailboat shadow spent in a bird cage alongside attractive avifauna - every now and then a little plastic man would appear, wobbling but never falling over.  I picked up the secrets of an ancient South American civilisation which had fallen out of a king crab's shopping bag, made a pyramid and then sharpened a razor blade inside it.

10/10/07: A busy day travelling along two flight paths at once, when I finally managed to land in two places simultaneously I passed some time as a clothes airer with various items of clothing attached to my first world war ship superstructure.  I had a brief respite from the talking winds which I happily spent with paint, pencils and mathematical equations.

11/10/07: I disappeared along the nail file track just as the dawn uncurled it's long tongue.  I talked to the female gnome squat at the portals of the adventure play ground and was then suddenly swallowed up into a marsupial pouch.  After a short repast with the kind old giant I took a kangaroo back to the land shaped like a prisoners satchel.  Unfortunately the koala broke down at the top of the hill.

12/10/07: I had been turned into plastic during the night and every time I sat down I stuck to the seat.  To counteract this I hung as much as possible from the florescent lights in an ancient Sumarian reading room where I discussed the coming of Plato and Aristotle with unidentified flying objects.  I identified them later as semi-organic space bats constructed from the remnants of Sixties tenement blocks complete with damp patches and fallen plaster.

13/10/07: A stressful day, partly clinging to the rigging of an old sailing ship and partly in the orchestra pit rehearing a concerto for photocopier and orchestra.  When I finally felt confident with my musicianship I went overboard.  I was washed up on the shore of a strange land where everything went in reverse.  I walked backwards to the garden gate (which shut in front of me) and got out of bed feeling very tired.

14/10/07: I had an enjoyable time in the pancake garden tending the lemon trees and moving historical moments around like pot plants.  My wife and I tied a cord round the middle of the day while we discussed the sunshine.  When the sun went down she wallpapered the inside of an oven and I found an off-licence to model the latest trends in wine bottle clothing - luckily I have the figure for it.

15/10/07: I had a lie in this morning (only for a few minutes - honest!).  I got up when the cat made a path in the bed clothes for a column of miniature anti-war veterans to march through.  I had breakfast in the trenches and then went to see the launch of a Viking longboat dressed in a choice selection of cardboard boxes.  I came home with my hair on fire and wearing someone else's clothes.

16/10/07: I measured the dullness of the day (precisely with scientific instruments) as I slowly put on a pair of six guns.  I rode a pale steed into the town on the very outskirts of western civilisation.  I wrote a message on the mirror in the middle of the afternoon and for the second day running I came home in another person's clothes - luckily this time there were the appropriate slits for my falcon wings.

17/10/07: I opened my door and saw large boulders between the step and the gate.  I jumped between each and took a red kite to the historical document I punctuate at odd times.  I was saddened but not surprised to discover that I was a full stop on a paragraph that had lasted almost ten years.  Rather than write a new story I decided to return to an old one - where I played the Boot that Puss jumped in.

18/10/07: It was very early in the morning when I set out for the land where fairy stories are still enacted - to emphasise this, the toy soldiers (made form cotton reels and needles) were paraded on the white breakfast table.  After a brief discussion about red and yellow crab apples I returned to take my place on the corporate mantelpiece.  While looking down from the old crows' nest I pondered my past and my future - wondering which one came first.

19/10/07: It was a cold morning, which I spied from a telescope held the wrong way round.  The ships moored up against the garden fence were covered in hoar.  I took a newspaper to town, crumpled it for a couple of hours and then returned garlanded with dolls holding hands.  The evening was spent in one of those places that bridge the real world and an alternative one.  I came home in the cold - the ships were moored in anticipation.

20/10/07: From the stick man's observatory I parachuted quite early into a new reality.  The flotsam and jetsam communicated telepathically and the music concert was interrupted by the involuntary cancan dancer.  I gave her several words to sit on and she packed my lunch box with dried moss.

21/10/07: I looked out from the canopy of the spitfire mark five a bit later than planned.  I made myself even later by stuffing a fully functioning weather station into my spare pocket.  I then spent all day moving the green damsels in distress that populate the nether regions of the purple world.  As I didn't have to paddle my canoe along one of Titan's methane rivers during the evening I built a new town in an old armchair.

22/10/07: I was expecting to put on my armour and mount the old war horse early enough to join the caterpillars in their interstellar foraging; unfortunately I was late and missed the boat to the island where the trees communicate with dog barks.  Poppy, the collie/policeman cross had dropped all her leaves by the time I got in.

23/10/07: I stood up and stepped out of the page far too early in the morning.  I found the cat inside the television and I turned him over.  The kittens were practising the Indian rope trick - June was lighting the filter end of her cigarette and smoking it .  I was late going to the dentist.  When I got back I put a balaclava on the ceramic guard dog and pretended it was a terrorist.

24/10/07: A busy day.  I soon found out I was the only human not on stilts and I ended up having to run through the melee like a clockwork mouse.  I soon spied the clockwork cat and went home with artificial kitten food.  Once in the ice palace I placed the feeding bowl on a blue and red kite and went to work in the clouds.

25/10/07: I was out in the morning; fired by a bow into a haystack.  I got out clutching a handfull of needles and sped home by centiped bus.  I spent the middle of the day in a whirlpool; getting giddy and pulling an unknown Shakspeare play out of a hat.  I wore the hat home.

26/10/07: Another busy day in the hive.  I talked in tongues to the circus animals and sold wooden figures on a sawdust floor.  I flew home to my conceptual bird cage and while sitting on a perch talking to the birds of fire I invented a set of clothes based on dog bones.  Poppy the dog has got too fat so we both had long walks on the plank protruding from a pirate ship.

27/10/07: I pulled a picture of myself off the wall and challenged it to a duel (knowing I would lose!).  I eventually replaced the picture with a landscape which I walked into to pick some flowers.  The flowers were put in a vase on top of a young girl head - I pulled out my cross bow but, not reading the script, accidentally shot myself in the  foot.  I hopped home.

28/10/07: It was as wet as washed clothes all day.  I sucked up the water from the moat and climbed the winding steps to the grey magical turret so that the doves could be released - they flew off in coats of many colours.  After several pirouettes on a penny farthing I walked to the shining dungeons with Quasimodo on my back and pigeons flying overhead.  The music had teeth and claws that dripped red.

29/10/07: I traipsed around the engine room until the bells tolled for the morning.  I went to noon town inside a cage I made myself.  The demon fairy was dressed in an extremely bright pink top and I answered the phone to an octopus in blue stockings.  I was pressed within the book I was writing and the flower princess knew every sentence before I uttered it - the ginger girl was dressed only in belts.

30/10/07: After a brief period swimming on my studio floor, June and I took the slime mould machine to a medieval city on a rain cloud.  Rain dropped from the fish plates that shone in the artificial sun illuminating a facial map of Australia and a  procession of country bumpkins on their way to the lost isle of Avalon.  I came home with a picture of a girl swimming on her living room floor.

31/10/07: I knew today was going to be a strange day when I woke up with a helter-skelter on my head.  I am used to a dunce's cap and a convoy of marching spiders moving slowly into the distance.  I spent some time on the record player until I was giddy enough to go to work.  The evening was a crane holding a fork lift truck.  I walked out of the window and looked out of the door.

01/11/07: I took my weekly trip on the paper boy boat just as the dawn coughed and turned over (she disregarded the sound of the hunting horn in the troubadour distance).  I came back in arrow time holding onto paper chains and bags within bags within bags.  I walked in the skittle and ball space as the baby girl fed the ducks and my wife told me that the fire in the hidden box had gone out.

02/11/07: The sky split in two to reveal cogs and sundry other parts of machinery quite early in the transition phase day.  I had to go the mice city on a the sled holding (as carefully as I could) a landing pad for miniature helicopters used by the micro soldiers I brought into existence in my childhood.  I talked to the high priestess for a short period before returning home to lie down on the altar.

03/11/07: This was Microdot's last Saturday.  Since the time I had balanced a pyramid on my head (with a dead pharaoh resting on my eyebrows) she had kept all my secrets disguised as a full stop at the bottom of her page.  In consequence, I built a toy boat in my eyrie and promised to write a book for her.  When we left the deserted house the whole world was painted with thin parallel lines.

04/11/07: I worked during the lace curtain time in the garden I keep in the spare room.  Growing things embraced the furniture - while, during the program interval I made a shelf to place my memories on.  The sun split into three and I sat down to proclaim my first thoughts on a new religion.  I called the chair my Kraken and the halo of mown grass my fisherman friend.

05/11/07: It was a small dawn when I watered my plant collection hanging in the wardrobe.  I had to shuffle to town because I had the confessions of my second childhood wrapped round my ankles.  For a variety of reasons I could only revolve on the glass stage during the medical dissection part of the day - wearing a map of the world as a turban in the late afternoon.

06/11/07: Today was destined to be a many carriaged sleeper train heading north. As I moved in sympathy the puppet sitting on lap yawned and the urban countryside opened it's King Arthur mouth.  I used the crayons I suspend from my ear lobes to write a word in a completely new language.   This done, I got a lift home disguised as a dog biscuit.

07/11/07: I got out of several beds simultaneously and washed my early face in a thimble.  Most of the day was spent walking in circles (inside rooms with stars on the ground and grass on the ceiling).  I had already stuffed as many paper handkerchiefs into my pocket as possible - writing a brief description of the diurnal activities of the common stoat on a scrap of paper as I did so.

08/11/07: My cold got worse as I walked to the high land (of the great expanse of smiling sky) with a portion of English hedgerow balanced on my head.  Later, I raced in my snail yacht following a spittle of cloud and attempting to speak my name as many times a second as possible.  When I got home I shortened my Christian name to gate - which I slowly opened.

09/11/07: I dragged myself out of the peat bog but realised that the art clock hadn't managed to escape from the submarine resting on the bottom of the wine coloured ocean.  I pulled the rope but only bells rang.  The frog behind the counter smiled as I placed more swine before pearls.  I walked the dry land while the arrows flew and the ancient night star called......

10/11/07: It was the last day at work for Megan the young bullock who dreamed of being a head waiter in a five star restaurant.  We embraced at the lights went out and a canal boat full of refugees from the future pushed its way through the concrete floor we had prepared for a returning Second World War bomber - it had four and a half engines.

11/11/07: I had to dodge the showers when the winged dog and I returned from our sojourn in the sunken lands.  I finished the breakfast cereal (a survivor from the gunfight at the OK corral) and went to watch the stream of Danaes falling from chlorophyll coloured sky boats.  I turned the page and started a new chapter among the ten green bottles - soon there was only one.

12/11/07: This is my last week of forming part of the floral pattern of a plush international carpet.  Seagulls called within the hanging bells as I trudged to the shops across the solidified lake made from facile facial expressions.  I briefly held up the Earth while Atlas visited his mother.  I then dug a hole in the past and buried myself in it.

13/11/07: I felt very sorry for myself as I had to climb out of the hayrick with grass stalks instead of eyebrows.  I noticed a periscope revolving in the sitting room but didn't think any more of it.  Having licked a skyscraper window amount of stamps I discovered that the smile at the bottom of the page was false.

14/11/07: Today was a comma sort of day and I didn't see a full stop anywhere.  The sonic screwdriver was in my hand during the sandwich filling time and I glove puppeted the walk home.  The afternoon was puff puff  and "Pam of the evening" showed me to how dial up the Knight Templars to describe the visions I had of the lady in the pink petticoat sky.

15/11/07: I was out in the morning disguised as a walking canoe.  I waltzed through the rapids and tangoed down the waterfall.  I then came home inside the world's biggest chicken.  I had to pace the deck for a couple of hours before unrolling on a honeymoon carpet.  The evening was shorter than anticipated and a stick of seaside rock came through the door as a surprise.

16/11/07: This was my last day on the Spanish galleon.  We sailed into port (with two glasses each side) as the moon turned into a sickle.  I had spent a lot of my caterpillar crawling time trying to find a piece of string but still managed to trip over the words I had written earlier.  The mummified cats had already lined up to dance the cancan - Ali held on tight as the last wave went by.

17/11/07: The start of a new snail person era.  I felt tired as I was peeled of the backing paper and spread on the arena floor.  I picked flowers and planted myriads of model Earths while the sellotape clock kept ticking.  The voice in the sky was learning a foreign language and the police came to the water rats who live next door.  I raised the flag and lowered my eyes.

18/11/07: Large fish were hunting for small men as the stair rods came down like old people in wheel chairs.  Having several sacks of time in my hands I sat in the Red Indian shed chanting and moving my peace pipe pencil in complex spirals.  The lost tribes walked round aimlessly in the prison yard.  I went out to unlock the door and then went out to lock it again - having never gone inside.

19/11/07: I walked to the paint draped town for the very last time, pulling behind me a horse and cart.  The dungeon man and I took the boxes downstairs after I gave the puzzled fairy my flowers.  On the walk home I invented a new form of mathematics so that every sum now ends in zero.  The redundant fly and I contemplated the future while riding a hump backed whale called the Flying Saucer.

20/11/07: I went to the seaside, I had the customary bucket over my head.  I got very wet walking to the solid rock ships and I dropped in on a friendly white witch to dry out in her vapours.  The railway stations were talking among themselves and the train went in and out without being noticed.  I tied a polecat to a stick and waited for another.

21/11/07: The morning was wreathed in buttercups - hands were removed from breast pockets to grasp them.  The ladder leant against nothing and cast man like shadows.  I pulled the room apart to form a field and walked out in it until the weather (still walking on stilts) changed and the rain man danced.  I danced with a lady who had a mobile phone for a head.

22/11/07: The alarm went off inside a marsh mallow; Poppy, the dog, took off her pyjamas while I made a World War Three sentry box in the bed.  The caves were quiet and I roasted memories in cans strung on string.  Pipe Man visited and we held up the traffic in the kitchen while June, my wife, held up the stagecoach in the parlour.  I wore a skirt for the evening.

23/11/07: I went to the fern frond capital city of Echo Land before the blind was pulled across the night sky.  I engaged in a long debate about which towns look best  wrapped up in string vests with the old voice from the armchair - Searchlights from ancient adventures still streaked in the living room - and then came home with visions of broken teeth reflected in pools beside windmills.

24/11/07: Today was a strange day and I never found out what to call it.  I called the evening Emily (it called me Christopher Robin) and diligently sorted out all the sparkles on the surface of the sparkle machine.  I pulled a rope home, remembering all the people who were never in when I called.  Once inside, I swam in a glass of red wine which had been stirred with a tuning fork.  I settled down to sleep in middle C.

25/11/07: It was another scissor dawn as my wife turned into the vapour from a crocodile's nostril.  I laid sellotape across the garden while the sky jellyfish floated over head. Most of the documents were filed in the heart of cabbages as I paved my own path to the bottle bank where hobby horse people pretend to give blood.  The evening was contained in a recyclable can of silence.

26/11/07: I was shot into the air by a giant spring at point zero of the flash light morning.  I sanded down the scratch marks on the wall and walked the dog to place where the start is also the finish.  After discussing the calls heard in the night with a vociferous toby jug I came home and tied myself into a knot.  There were no scouts around as the lift descend into the pit at the end of the day.

27/11/07: When the telephone rang I woke and found myself spread out on a giant hand.  I shook it and watched the news on a wedding ring television.  By noon all the ladders had descended from their roosting place in the ceiling.  I had already walked the dog to a crater on the moon and back.  We were not allowed to feed the ducks.

28/11/07: Poppy and I went for a long walk (this after going up a ladder and coming down a snake) to the younger person lakes - the first time since an older age set in.  The dog wore sandals and I was dressed as a Spartan soldier.  All cars travelling to Artists Way had big grins attached to their bumpers.  I went out alone in the evening.

29/11/07: It was my usual boat trip across the desert in the morning.  I embraced joviality in the Giant's sitting room and unpacked an imaginary bag.  The journey home was shot from a bow and I arrived home to see the apple split in two.  I ate a slow pie in the non urgent afternoon and went out this time as two people.

30/11/07: I woke up walking and I was half way along the plank before I took the budgie coat off the hanger and put it on.  June and I went to short hair mountains where I worked in a cave.  The afternoon was a grey wig and I surrounded myself with small pieces of paper with pencil marks on them.  The rain later filled my bowler hat.

01/12/07: It was the day before Dragon Sunday so I took the opportunity to take all the captive crocodiles for a long walk over the eyelid bridges.  I expected a message and had my trusty steed (called Fred) ready.  I spent the afternoon in the planetarium making stars - I pretended I was one of them.

02/12/07: The wind blew like Stanley Spencer curtains.  I put my possession in one wellington boot and stepped in another.  I spent most of the day as a rock outcrop in my studio along with my chimney friends.  I talked to the one in the clouds about a model railway.

03/12/07: When I was unpegged from the clothes line I walked with the baby to the amoeba lakes - I was surprised to see the house of toffees and brown cardigans derelict and roofless.  I missed my connection and was later found sleeping on a pool table.  I had two pages of dry cider and then walked home.

04/12/07: It was an early start as Toad of Toad Hall and I spent the morning balancing mattresses on my head.  I took a break for dinner and stood by the local railway siding as a signal - when my arms came down a train sped by.  The afternoon was cut loose from its moorings and my ship (still with an unbroken champagne bottle embedded in it) sailed off into the secondary colours distance.

05/12/07: Poppy dog and I went for a long walk, holding the pristine spirits of all the water faeries I had ever met.  We walked to the outside lakes where swords stand like water reeds and I tossed a coin - as it was heads I came home where a garland hung over a hole in the wall and my new mobile phone was shaped like a coffin.  I paid homage to the wolfman.

06/12/07: Out climbing the filaments of temporal feathers in the morning.  I rowed back, put my arms into as many glove puppets as I could and then dashed out again.  After exchanging hoolahoops I came home and saw my coffin telephone on my dinner plate.  I spit out several messages.

07/12/07: A tree was felled in the living room as I pogosticked down the gilded stairs.  I took the jeep out for a walk as the dog drove the general to his next ladies tea party.  I only had time to recite a few verses of the clockwork bible before going down the road on battery power.  The evening billowed like the wings of a rock group.  I stuffed a classical sonata down my jumper.

08/12/07: My wife was out at a Beduin camp so I had time to lick all the stamps in my stamp collection and then migrate to my studio as the days shortened and the geese stock piled snow shovels.  I whistled at my work and then ate an ocean liner for my lunch.  I had to pace the bridge in the evening as the dark ships got closer.

09/12/07: Another wet sponge day.  I rung out my shoes after racing Poppy to the edge of everyday life and back.  I then dusted my room with the cat before curling up to work.  I laid out a number of lines of hose before my wife had returned from running messages for the pope.  I smiled at all the doors in the hospice.

10/12/07: Most of the wallpaper days are badly torn and I tunnelled into the mature cheddar of my urban existence while dog walkers paraded their machines made from left over car parts.  I had whispered to the smiling walls when I had first emerged from the bedroom cocoon so I had nothing left to say when the Toby Jug descended the grand staircase with ribbons instead of fingers.

11/12/07: My wife and I walked the anteater tongue to the pile of medieval books where we like to eat.  While we were sat pulling apart the wreckage of downed Second World War aeroplanes a parade of soldiers waltzed by.  I sat at the controls of an intergalactic freighter while June pulled the cords of our family parachute.

12/12/07: When I poked my head through the autumn lit kaleidoscopic membrane I saw the day coiled like a moth's tongue.  As it unwound I danced a slow dance in the vault where cold hands are kept in wine bottles.  I stayed for extra time and saw the ball kicked into the back of the silent night net while my colleague threw himself from an aeroplane pinned to the ceiling.

13/12/07: There were slightly less obstacles sat on the pancake of my Andover avatar existence than yesterday. I pulled an unknown device out of the mixture and licked life into it.  I then sunk into a boat I use as a bed.  I saw shooting stars through my periscope.  Eileen rang.

14/12/07: The day opened its mouth and I shot out astride a torpedo; my target had a multitude of tiny feet and managed to escape.  I chased the invisible sirens with a paintbrush.  I then draped myself on ancient masonry before walking among the fallen and sprouting trees in search of an entrance.  After the silent prayers I placed a lampshade on my head and illuminated the hallway.

15/12/07: I met my sister as she drifted by among the Portuguese man o' war.  We had a hot lunch among the cold caverns I had already pulled my eyelids across.  When I looked up there were sundry faces from the Dark Ages looking down.  When I looked down I saw that my napkin had polymerised a host of tiny versions of myself.

16/12/07: It was a bitterly cold day and there was a whole queue of us space refugees walking along the knife blade edge.  Smoke emanated from the top hat I was wearing and the fairies wished themselves into existence before annihilating each other with bursts of negative energy.  I paced around the cold space as memories of fifteen previous lives sorted themselves according to density.

17/12/07: Today disappeared like a lavatory flush; someone pulled on a cord and all the bells rung.  In time to the music I danced in the mud with small sheets of paper stuck to me - my wife meanwhile burrowed into the flesh of a huge sea serpent that sailed by with the whole of the Trojan war enacted on the broad expanse of its kaleidoscopic back.

18/12/07: I woke with a start and found a couple of dozen prehistoric animals laying on the bed.  I consequently jumped out with a pair of tights over my head (there was a blue garter above my eyes like a Jimi Hendrix bandana).  After a brief discussion about a tin shack in the middle of France I cast myself adrift in a wine bottle and bobbled along in a synchronous water ballet with a number of intoxicated dolphins.

19/12/07: An in and out day like the tale of the person who lives in a matchbox.  I pulled a parachute from under my hat and pretended to make a bad landing.  I juggled thin air and then went home with a colony of meerkats in my trousers - after going down the pit in a hot air balloon I went out and in again with my propellor spinning fast.

20/12/07: The blue touch paper burnt slowly and it was late in the morning before I unrolled the hose and pushed myself down it.  The Christmas zombies walked slowly as I slid past wearing a pseudo snake skin.  I managed to dance on a tambourine for the briefest period before having to sellotape my life story to the front of my vest and rolling down the hill to the glass lake of work.  I had a message from my doctor.

21/12/07: I was out as early as possible from the hover house overlooking the boat yard - this is where the seventeen children I once was grew fruit and then secretly ate them.  I went out in desert clothes and was surprised when I came back with bits of the tropical rain forest attached to my overalls.  With these same clothes I went to the factory in search of a chimney to smoke.

22/12/07: I went to see Father Christmas.  I rose early with dove wings and visions of snow hopping kangaroos.  However, it was mid morning before I managed to undo the chains from the rock I was shackled to.  I then took the long journey where old trees fell to the dead house gardens where my wife and I had long past.  I dug up as many memories as possible.

23/12/07: June discovered that she had broken her hand.  We were both standing in bags of wet cement at the time.  I had to pull a fish out of my pocket and make a phone call.  It was a quiet day with the flags on the roof bringing up a family of refugees and the cardboard version of me surreptitiously making notes on a piece of paper in his pocket.

24/12/07: I climbed out of the tree house lavatory holding my tummy.  It took three trips to town to fully reconcile all the differences between the various clans who purportedly live in sundry items of flat pack furniture in our bedroom.  After swimming forty lengths in a cup of tea I went to join the congregation where little Emily kindly gave me a bottle for her portrait.

25/12/07: I woke bereft of visiting Magi but saw instead a Walt Disney silhouette of June as she rubbed two sticks together to turn on the television.  After an Italian dinner the family settled down to pulling magic tricks out of pieces of anaconda strewn across the floor.  I studied the tracks left by a party of marauding red Indians while the others gleefully buttered a monopoly board.

26/12/07: Another day away from home - we had to trek across the plastic land where plastic people lay with arms outstretched in a perpetual embrace - we then played with the baby and ate miscellaneous parts from a model kit.  I dreamed of raising the dead while television screens duelled at a multitude of false dawns.  I was worried by the amount of weight Poppy has gained.

27/12/07: I started the day by raising my arm like the dead warrior in Guernica.  I then dressed myself in chocolate wrappers and squeezed between chinks in the wall.  I tried to get back into my studio (which had been vacationing in the South of France) but the clock didn't like it.  At the end of the day my dinner was delivered by Viking longboat.

28/12/07: I went visiting in the morning, earlier than usual and accompanied by my friend the owl king.  After staying in the warm for a few hours I returned to the cold Anglo-Saxon camp where the hunting weapons were being polished.  I ascended like an archangel in the dark afternoon and then floated down like a feather into my nightly wine cup.

29/12/07: After taking all the snakes out of my hair I walked the plank to the shops, where I met my friend the water nymph, and came back with a horse's mane.  I pulled an ancient city from my wife's chest while eating lunch.  Later I found time to dance in pink paint before going to the dark hall - the music reminded me of highwaymen and dwarves stood on tall ladders.

30/12/07: I felt ill and laid in bed as long as a vampire.  When I finally rose (with organ music in the background) I walked slowly pulling sellotape from the corners of the room.  I then sucked several seas dry and introduced a number of marsupial species to South America.  After dinner I made several futile attempts to take our pet dinosaur out for a walk.  My imagination flew like a pterosaur.

31/12/07: I raised myself out of bed with several jet engines attached to arms and legs.  I found a map of town on the top of my head and followed it.  I had the briefest of times as captain on the bridge of the Queen Boadicca and then sailed serenely into a peopled evening.  At the end of the day (and the year!) I had to be peeled of a laughing wall.