01/01/09:  I rose out of bed like a humpbacked whale and was slightly surprised to find June pegged into the clothes line drying in the breeze.  We went out during the early part of the day and had our dinner on the edge of the Sahara.  I leant against ancient Egyptian ruins and went through my pockets for any hieroglyphics.  The television was then turned over and we resumed our normal existence on the bottom of the sea, both wrapped in seaweed to aid our disguise.

02/01/09:  I had a day to myself, while all the plastic people in the world marched by the goldfish bowls I was using as primitive eyes.  I scratched two circles in the earth and stood inside one to think.  The laughing invisible man stood in the other and I managed to find several lines to follow among my collection of elastic band frowns.  The living room was packed with giant knitting needles as I went out to shake hands with several people, all claiming to be me.

03/01/09:  I walked June to her fairy tale palace before the snow orchestra had tuned up.  She met someone from a past life encased in a block of ice - I put the kettle on and decided what shoes would go well with it.  We were both later found clinging to rope netting on the side of a wooden hulled ship. Back inside the underground bunker I adopted a foetal posture and the high priestess found somewhere to stick her ceremonial flowers.

04/01/09:  I had to stuff the central heating system into my boots as I jumped off the school boy page early in the morning.  I landed in ancient woodland with a band of spectral cowboys, we managed to fight off the cold winds but I still came home wearing icicles as stilettos.  I now had space ships eyes which flew all across the room before landing beside a broken ornament with whom I made contact - the budgie was sitting on eyeballs waiting for them to hatch.

05/01/09:  Today was a proper day which I removed from the plastic spur after I opened the newly purchased do-it-yourself kit.  I clambered about in trees and then came down to look at the instruction sheet.  I followed the numbers until dinner time, then battled down the torrents of a raging river.  I decided not cover my naked body with military decals and went into the dungeon again to clank chains and paint - a forgotten prisoner was hanging up behind me.

06/01/09:  June was out all day, working in the kitchen of a Victorian dolls house.  After talking to a baby floating on a maternal cloud I got up to walk the dog along the line where two universes meet.  She had red and blue leads while I wore a multidimensional hat.  Once back behind the lipstick proof defences I had all day to paint and imagine the room filling up with flowers.  I only came out of my studio to look at the animals and randomly screw up sheets of A4 paper.

07/01/09:  I had a lay in, as cannon shells screamed over head and men from the American Civil War camped in the living room downstairs.  I came down with a koala bear inside my body faintly glowing through my skin.  June had changed into a scale model of a Sixties block of flats.  I walked outside with a barbed wire halo and then came inside to paint.  June took pills from the pill box and picked up a glass of water (it had dolphins swimming inside).

08/01/09:  I got up very early and left the house through the letter box.  I skipped down the lane with a hundredweight of concrete on each shoulder.  I travelled on a lipstick tube, stopping briefly to powder my nose and returned tied to one of Robin Hood's arrows.  Once back inside the medieval trumpet where we have been living I found time to pull a dozen ballet dancers out of my pocket and hide my wrist watch down a mouse hole in the neon skirting board.

09/01/09:  I woke on the arctic tundra; June and I were living in a wooden box camouflaged to resemble a musk ox.  She worked all morning knitting house walls while I played with the toy train set on the top of my head.  The weather was too bad to catapult into space so I hid in my prison cell thinking up excuses in case I ever needed them.  Unfortunately I had to go out in the afternoon  to find an octopus to milk - I came home with the Spanish Armada in my pail.

10/01/09:  I had a quiet day sitting on a story book which was open on the circular floor (which occasionally winked like a crazed eye).  As the floor revolved I recited a poem backwards - in the distance the car warriors were congregating to mourn one of their fallen.  I took the afternoon and wrapped it in cardboard in readiness for the evening; which descended with a drum roll.  June looked for a saucepan with pink windows while I looked for a Hindu temple.

11/01/09:  I ascended through the mud of the bed room floor incandescent and giving off steam.  After this I settled down to D.I.Y.  I spent the morning measuring timber for a replica of the rain forest.  I had a brief respite, eating my sandwiches on a submarines back, and then returned to hanging from tree branches like a orang-utan.  My wife, wearing an army helmet, prepared the dinner underneath.  We only stopped when an express train hurtled through the kitchen.

12/01/09:  First thing in the morning I found myself part of the pattern on the living room carpet.  I felt the depression where I sat to eat my breakfast, looking up I saw the dog looking down.  Later, on the space bed in my rocket studio, I scribbled down some rough notes to give to the fairy tale King.  I came out of my studio door sitting astride a train of pork sausages - June was downstairs wrestling with a penguin which had fallen out of some old Christmas cards.

13/01/09:  I overslept in my prehistoric cave, emerging riding on a mastodon as the dustbin men took the remains of our nuclear reactor breakfast.  After the sound of crashing glass and the sudden appearance of a number of rather bemused archangels I decided to forsake my super hero duties for the day.  I took off my clothes and spent much of the day stripping wallpaper from flesh covered walls.  The dog was covered in volcanic ash and the cat learned several new languages.

14/01/09:  I rode my motorcycle out of the bathroom, stopping to engage several carpets in conversation - one carpet had a floral pattern while the other was plain.  I stopped my race along the python track to read the inscriptions on a mushroom shaped stele positioned at the side of the road - cornflakes were sprinkled over the top.  I replaced my head with a hot air balloon and surveyed the happy face map, noticing that all roads were replaced with strings of sausages.

15/01/09:  I went out in the morning riding a motorised Wellington boot (coming home on a sandal).  The kindly giant ground sloth had a warm den and we talked of Lands End.  Once back home I removed the miniature Loch Ness monsters from my bag - June was spinning inside the washing machine - and took out my lunch from the television set.  When I changed channels I found myself in hot water - June was riding a mechanical horse into the rose tinted distance.

16/01/09:  I had the day to myself, laying in the saucer that the cat laps from.  Subsequently pulling myself out onto a beach strewn with jetsam  - picking through these I found several items from my early life.  I put these into my slipper in lieu of my foot.  I spent most of the day in the watch tower.  No riders approached although June returned from shopping with a kite made from cabbage leaves.  I gave this to the rabbit and whistled down a passing helium balloon.

17/01/09:  I rose from slumber like smoke over a battle field.  I remembered many fallen soldier dreams (looking out of my old bedroom window, the sun was shining even though it was the middle of the night).  I answered all of her questions.  June went to town in a tank (I later heard the artillery shells fall).  The white mice family came back covered in plastic and paper scraps.  Freyia knocked on the door holding her invisible lipstick.  She then held my invisible hand.

18/01/09:  A slow start as I set up a system of ladders going from one cloud to another.  I eventually got as high as the top hat the spectral ring master was wearing.  I parachuted back to the pincushion garden and helped out a friendly dwarf who was suffering from laryngitis.  I resurfaced covered with a thick layer of seaweed and christened myself Mollusc Man.  Later, after my fifteenth transformation, I tied vines together to make a floating hut.  I am now looking for floating furniture

19/01/09:  The telephone rang when June and I were sitting in separate cockpits and the aircraft approached the sound barrier - she had a quick bath in free fall, I went back to bed (while talking to my ethereal colleague as he stood outside the gates of Hades).  I fed the animals while working on my idea of a robotic python.  I dedicated the morning to writing messages on discarded cauliflower leaves and retired to my ice palace in the afternoon to read bottle tops.

20/01/09: I had a leisurely start to the day, sitting on a sofa which was speeding down the slopes of some vast mountain.  Once at the bottom, poppy and I walked a treadmill and I said good morning to plant face.  I moved floors on a flying chair and landed among the debris of a ruined temple - I pulled several carrot tops out of my hair before starting work.  I finished adding smiles to brick walls and went down the road to converse with a giant moorhen.

21/01/09:  I woke with a red face in a bright red room.  My wife was a strong shade of green.  Between us we found a palette for the animals which happily share this space ship with us.  I waved to myself from orbit.  I had time in the capsule to paint; spreading both my wife and I on the canvas.  During the evening I listened to the music of the spheres while imagining a game of bowls played by skeletons - they looked up as the satellites crashed to Earth.

22/01/09:  I took my weekly early dip in the country lake; the old man still resides on the island in the middle of the lake.  He had a fish as a door knocker and wet eels as decorations.  We fetched in the logs and talked to a dwarf who marched by (he said he was going to the front but I think he was actually coming back).  I came back in time to tie myself up, only breaking free to walk to work with an octopus in my top pocket.

23/01/09:  The house was tied up under a giant tap (June had a bath tub for a head and I had a bidet (although I didn't know what to do with it).  I sailed into the breakfast parlour using a cat as a sail.  Once back on dry land (using desert island type one a) I was able to draw dark black lines issuing from boxes.  I only found out later when in discussion with the zip maker that the boxes contained heads.  My favourite had a coin in its mouth - I put the coin in the meter and left.

24/01/09:  June and I went out early; She carried her papers, I carried a heavy weight.  I came home as the front of a pantomime horse.  I then went out into the garden trailing a feather boa (the feathers weren't real).  After tending my plasticine plants I sat on the nursery floor.  The toy figures went by - later, I was distressed to learn that I was one of them.  When I came back from the play-doh shop I opened a bottle of wine and climbed inside.  I noticed a gorilla and several chimpanzees peering in.

25/01/09:  June and I went out early; She had her eyes open, I had mine closed.  I came back as the rear part of a pantomime horse.  I fed the animals like Lady Godiva; the guinea pigs had hidden howitzers among their hay.  Before June returned wearing a suit of armour I hung from the wall with cat claws.  I stayed hanging high above the recently cleaned floor for a large part of the day.  A poet suddenly appeared in the evening after she had accidentally swallowed her poem.

26/01/09:  I began the day riding on a smoking dragon and creating intricate patterns in the sky - June had gone out trailing a string of penny arcade machines behind her.  I parked my dragon in the garden I found among the clouds and took the Lady Eleanor tube to my studio.  Once inside the jellyfish walls I tried to find as many ways as possible to sit on the floor while cognisant flowers floated overhead.  Unfortunately I had to go out before any took root.

27/01/09:  Several hours after the sun had climbed out of its bucket I rose like a vampire changing into a werewolf.  After feeding all the animals with human heads I sat down on an island in my breakfast bowl for a break.  Once in my thinking room I invented a hat with a face on it so that it could be pulled right down over your head in cold weather.  After lunch I had to cling to the surface of a large landscape waiting for the rain to come - the dog sharpened its pencil.

28/01/09:  I replaced my studio floor with a treadmill, although I kept getting off to stuff models of religious miracle workers in milk bottles.  After making a sandwich with Vaseline (followed by a sump oil muffin) I had a short period painting grass blades bright red.  I came back indoors wearing lipstick.  A short period late the dog entered with both lipstick and mascara.  We both made a peace sign and then she wandered off smoking a cigar.  I put my pencil out and left the house for the bright lights in the sky.

29/01/09:  I spent the first part of the morning navigating a previously unexplored river in the Amazon basin.  I saw piranhas with hats on and sloths on motorcycles.  I came home wearing a gorilla mask and with a skyscraper on my head - I refused to climb it.  Once inside the hole in a doughnut I found I had to take a multitude of nails out of my forehead before working as usual.  After this, and after acknowledging a robot made from hair pins which ambled by, I judiciously spray painted the Elgin marbles.

30/01/09:  The morning grew clearer as the stick insects communicated with markings on the underside of rocks.  When I finally saw the tube train approaching through the vegetable patch I ran downstairs to show June the translucent T-shirt I had invented - it was possible to see my internal organs as well as a map of the Martian canals.  June was laughing uncontrollably while holding a mirror to a spinning wheel.  I heard bird song inside my head and turned off the light.

31/01/09:  I woke as a clothes peg and fell in love with a pine wood chair I found in a flat pack.  In the mirror I looked less thin and pulled myself out of the cigarette packet I was hiding in.  June smoked a rolled up newspaper while I put on a jelly tie.  Dressed as emus we went out to buy a bucket.  We came back later holding part of the road and several holes to put in it.  Once inside  the transparent pyramid I sat in a cat bowl and June put the dinner on.

01/02/09:  I had a lay in and watched a family of breakfast cereal boxes from the safety of my magic carpet. Once I had got down from the prism place I went out with Eileen to the black cat wood.  We walked among the cats for several hours while trees fell down beside us.  I tucked a small log inside my jacket and proceeded to read to it.  We came home in a wooden car and I introduced myself  to Mr. and Mrs. Tiger - after exchanging stripes I retired to the naval gun turret for the night.

02/02/09:  I woke slowly over a three hour period.  The snow had made cracks on the face which had, over time, become the garden (it was smiling benignly as it looked up at the frowning sky).  I took out a broom and filled them in with talcum powder.  I had planned to sink into the earth like a chain reacting power plant but had to go out in the cold and stand guard.  The other sentries winked as they marched by.  I took  a feather duster out of my pocket and blew the radioactive dust out of it.

03/02/09:  I got up early to walk gingerly over the frozen surface of the garden pond (the garden was as white as an iced cake).  After feeding bread to the water skaters I took the lily train to my studio where I pulled long strands of glutinous material out of my pockets while the cat sat on my lap and had a conservation with an inhabitant of a far distant planet.  I eventually replaced the cat with a sack of potatoes - I heard my wife downstairs busily frying eggs which the budgerigar had earlier laid.

04/02/09:  The hills were covered with multicoloured snow when I finally escaped from the test tube I had been sleeping in - fortunately the Bunsen burner had kept me warm during the night.  I looked at the cold finger tips of trees and then at their brightly coloured toenails.  I painted noughts and crosses on my own nails before returning to designing acorn lamps in the privacy of my darkened studio.  I put these under my hat and tobogganed to work where a colleague had left the doors open and the heating off.

05/02/09:  I spent a good part of the day working on the outstretched petals of a giant flower (while cricket commentary echoed from the gills of an edible mushroom).  I put thin slices of vegetarian ham in my hair and whistled like a plane approaching the speed of sound; a thunderclap introduced an imaginary guitar solo.  I then hung a monocycle pedal from each ear and rushed to town to get a set of keys for the migratory piano before it had time to join a herd of fellow creatures on the African savannah.

06/02/09:  I woke with a start (after falling asleep on the eyebrows of the ice giant).  I climbed down the icicle rope - having touched the brightly coloured snake which was simultaneously climbing up.  Once in the mirror of the soul pool I paddled around waiting for ideas (finding the occasional fish or recently thrown sword).  In the blink of an eye I was on dry land and hid myself in a secret room with only a ventriloquists dummy for company.

07/02/09:  I walked June to the pyjama house early in the morning, the snowmen were still walking and several passed us as we pulled skis out of hawthorn bushed (a sign said "all bushes have eyes") - I walked back thinking of several Matildas.  After eating thirteen breakfasts I made a round table for King Arthur, and a triangular one for his son.  I then photographed my feet and the bodies of people preserved in peat bogs before eating seventeen lunches.

08/02/09:  I had to walk June to the nightie house early in the morning again, zombies moved behind the houses as we sailed up the road with several seasick monkeys in our masts.  I copied and pasted myself into the garden (with a back up in the house in case the weather turned bad again).  When I came in, the overweight dog was dancing to trance music and the underweight cat was asleep in a yoghourt pot.  I turned the TV upside down.

09/02/09:  After dancing on icebergs in the high seas I cleaned out the rabbit (called Hieronymous), losing several chairs and part of the dining table in the process.  I came out of the hayrick on the other side of the universe and decided to juggle with library books in hyper space.  June came into the plastic bag house while I was suffering from deep space depression.  The phone went and I answered it as a dalek.  She went out again to talk to a polar bear.

10/02/09:  I had a quiet day beside an antediluvian spring - the old trees still clasped the decaying remnants of the old men.  I picked flowers for the first time wearing my choir boy clothes.  I piled up the flowers and made a window and door in it, I then crawled in to work - I heard the clock ticking from inside Peter Pan, who had just swallowed it.  From the stillness of my room I could hear the mirrors murmur to each other about long gone reflections.  I came back downstairs like a worm who had just been disturbed by a football.

11/02/09:  The early morning was split with an axe and I came downstairs slowly, tiptoeing on the sharp saw edge stairs.  June had already got a lot of paint off the walls and I hid my paint stripper in my pants.  June decided to lay the carpet on the ceiling and I got bit when I tried to take the howitzer out of the guinea pig cage.  The earthquake machine had caused a number of small cracks on the forehead of my portrait above the mantelpiece. We wrestled with several false dawns.

12/02/09:  I had my weekly early morning, crawling out of the door with a sack of French Revolutionary cakes on my back.  I spent the morning with the old king reminiscing about playing hopscotch on a motorway and dropping praying mantids in smaller peoples pants.  We worked out a new route (I came home via the old route) - I entered with the rocket engine on my behind still alight.  I had planned to spend the day splattering paint on all the neighbours front doors.

13/02/09:  I spent a large part of the day thinking of dead angels.  I had built a pulley system so I could get dressed while battling robot bears that were ravaging the entire street.  The tripod also came in handy when I drilled for oil in the back garden.  I came in with my sandals full of treacle, June sent me out again as she was surprised by the small wings growing out of my ankles.  I had to go out to work in the evening just as a dozen prophets entered by the back door.

14/02/09:  June bought me a cup of sludge in bed - I thought I could see long extinct marine animals in the bottom of the cup.  After dancing in the pouring rain wearing only June's dressing gown I presented her with a can of dark pink paint (we planned what we were going to do with it).  We then went out to the factory where the children used to work for nothing.  I pulled myself up and then pulled up June - she was cradling an adolescent okapi at the time.

15/02/09:  June went to work riding a serpent with cigarettes cascading from its nostrils - I trailed along behind absent mindedly holding onto the reins.  When the reins became spaghetti I had my breakfast in Dresden immediately after the last war.  Instead of decorating the pill box I went outside where the frogs were recovering from the hard winter.  I wore a frog spawn coat and waded into the pond  holding a book about GWR locomotives of the early years of the last Century - I could feel hands grasping my bare ankles.

16/02/09:  I pulled myself out of the triangular bed I had invented during the night - a painting on the wall showed a fish being pulled out of a bottle.  After doing press-ups on a striped tie I started the day hanging from a feathery wing.  I feather dusted my studio while dripping paint from a supply kept in my trouser turn ups.  I drew circles in the morning and squares in the afternoon.  I watched large expanses of sand in one of the squares and signed my name with a sea shell in the bottom corner.

17/02/09:  It was my birthday so I spent my time dressed as a white rabbit.  I walked June to town with a number of carrots tucked away in secret pockets.  I caught an extra large one later instead of the bus - June came home riding a unicorn.  After bathing in a tub of low fat pasta I painted in the spiritual landscape and listened to ghost voices as the dark clouds ambled over head.  I shot an arrow in one of the cloud herd and pulled myself up.  I could see the stick people in the distance.

18/02/09:  I heard giggling as I emerged from the pink chiffon tent.  June was hiding under giant cabbages; I pretended to be a giant herbivorous animal which discovered her hiding place by accident.   I pulled a bag over my head after giving her a felt tip and some crayons.  I was in my studio when the tip of the space rocket came through the ceiling - I thought of the human spirit, disregarded it and then thought of it again.  I pinned a map to June and she found me again.

19/02/09:  I pulled out the tongue that had appeared from the long wall and took a swab; it was my early morning trip and I had to walk the plank.  Outside the castle there were dead snowmen scattered around - I thought of undeciphered hieroglyphs.  I had a little time with the old man sitting on the roof of the bus which had been brought down with a blow pipe.  I had a zoo in my top pocket and I accepted two slices of toasted cheese.  I came back with my hair alight.

20/02/09:  I came down the stairs, catching glimpses of people going up the other side.  I found myself in a hole and busied myself tying large logs together.  I saw clouds talk to each other as they glided past my peering hole.  I later walked June to the tramp estate where she bought baby clothes.  I came back to unpack a box that had been brought to the house by some big black birds.  When I came to the end of the string I found my name on a small piece of paper - I scribbled it out and wrote another.

21/02/09:  I opened my eyes when the cymbals clashed and found myself in a wrestling embrace with a giant wood louse.  It must have been scuttling about on the floor when its peers had been playing strip poker in the loft above.  I escaped into cyberspace and took a row of TV monitors from my old school satchel and strung them together like beads.  To get a better reception I tied the aerial to a top hat and lifted it as my long forgotten school friends walked by.

22/02/09:  I was picked up by a black sheep lady and took to her downland home.  I collected up strands of dark brown hair and placed them next to a clock with no hands.  The eagle eyes searched the site for buried treasure as I re-enacted one of the last battles of the Boer War across a large plate of pasta.  When I returned to my submarine home I continued work on my Englishman shop.  Later I heard two sets of footsteps draw nearer and then one move farther away again

23/02/09:  June and I took a small alien called Hieronymous to the house on the side of the hill; lions sat each side of the gate - we fed the lions.  We returned home by hot air balloon (June provided the hot air!), sheltering little birds below our envelope.  The birds metamorphosed into penny black holes and we hid under spider webs -  The orange lady searched the undergrowth for the latest recipe while I wrote my name on the back of a leaf.  The spider gave us his business card.

24/02/09:  I cracked the test tube and squeezed myself out onto the laboratory table top.  The rabbit is ill and was sent into outer space (I am hoping he will return aged less than those of us left on Earth).  I searched the empty streets for people with sea fans on their shoulders.  I returned home like a man with shining red eyes.  I held the ship afloat as the waters rose, stopping only to walk the dog and talk to a lady called Alison.  I went to bed inside a toothpaste tube.

25/02/09:  I am still worried about Bosch.  I ambled along some old mole tunnels beneath the smiling side of the Earths crust.  I emerged via a tree trunk wrapped in a big tent; clowns were seen to be dangling from some very awkward places.  Throwing the multidimensional brane aside I sat in the icehouse with my hair on fire.  I later took solace in a sea shell listening to mermaids calling as the waves broke over the prow of a long lost ship.  I later packed this away and hid it under the bed.

26/02/09:  Out very early in the morning again.  I walked like a hermit crab with my torso in a shopping bag and my limbs sticking out.  Shuffling past a row of redundant Nordic gods I was able to talk about vapour heads with the balding frost giant.  We both watched the shadow cast by a little old lady hanging from a paper aeroplane; I could see the writing on its wings, it looked like school boy lines.  I wrote down several verses of my introductory essay before saying goodbye.

27/02/09:  I was puzzled when I descended from the top of my candy pink iceberg to see my wife carrying a tray of recently plucked eyes pass the examiners.  My examiner broke my spectacles when he decided to put them in a tumble dryer along with a leg of lamb and several do-it-yourself torture chambers.  I came home with two giant gaseous planets behind my wrap around sun glasses and immediately sat in a plough field with a collection of camouflaged balls rolling round my cranium.  I shouted house.

28/02/09:  I rose, stake in hand, like a repentant Dracula.  I watched the fish come to the surface like bubbles and raised by glasses to the picture of a moon goddess on the glowing wall.  After picking up the still broken glasses from the gnome's minions I took my clothes off and pasted myself onto the wall.  June, meanwhile, hid behind a magazine which she had considered turning into a semidetached residence for disabled centipedes.  All the centipedes we had previously met were unable to read.

01/03/09:  I slid downstairs like a snake, at the bottom a lady battled with several stockings writhing about like ladders - I looked in the mirror and saw her smile.  The voice recorder was set on auto and I played it back to see if any of the faces on the antique wallpaper had spoken during the night.  After taking my morning swim in a bowl of porridge I went out into the garden where the frogs were training on an army assault course.  I rehearsed a number of ballet steps and then pressed several buttons at once.

02/03/09:  This was the first morning of the week I had to spend redecorating the dungeons - taking care to paint round the instruments of torture.  I spent most of my time stripping wallpaper and then cleaning its underwear.  In the distance voices called out my name forwards then backwards as I counted vowels and consonants; June burrowed into the ancient earth beneath the house.  I counted bones and pottery shards before going to sleep on an oil rig.  I made my bed out of an old parachute.

03/03/09:  My second day in the cellar of the mansion the giantess stored her teeth in.  I was still stripping wallpaper, reciting the names of previous occupants as I did so.  The clock ticked while its hands saluted like a member of the Gestapo.  I shuffled about pretending to be a doomed prisoner - several winged women chose what paint to administer to the walls like medicine.  I became a bad patient and refused to stick my hand in the bran tub and take out a toy.

04/03/09:  I walked around the perimeter of a slowly expanding pool of grey paint - jumping out a couple of times to make a string of footprints up the wall.  I stopped this when I accidentally walked across the window and saw the true nature of time in a flash.  I decided not to become another prophet and accidentally swallowed a paintbrush instead.  I mused on the fact that I would be the only person on Earth with bright blue intestines before running after my dinner which was trying to escape.

05/03/09:  I went out for my weekly bob sleigh ride, my beard looking like artificial snow that toy soldiers could be placed on - one was dead and the other was trying to find the end of the rope.  I pulled out the time from my jeans pocket and spent some of it with a cardboard cut-out Jupiter.  He cast a number of thunder bolts to Earth and I rode on one inventing the theory of relativity for the second time in a week.

06/03/09:  I was pulled out of bed like a puppet is pulled out of his box.  June wrapped herself in cellophane and refused to do any work until the god had descended from the machine - I wound up the key protruding from her back.  She was collected at noon and I carried on digging an escape route, paint trickled down the back of my neck and spelt out a word I couldn't read unless I saw a reflection of myself in a slowly moving stream.  I threw a stick in the stream and watched it float away.

07/03/09:  June and I were caught in a thin membrane resembling a bats wing; June pulled herself free and went off to work.  Old people lined the route like weathered stones - their memories like fallen trees.  The tarantula headed taxi driver sped by while I pulled several small frightened people out of the cat's fur.  Like most of the week I was sent up the ladder to retrieve the cryptic messages left by earlier generations of mice men.  I said my cat prayers and went out to add to my collection of industrial chimneys.

08/03/09:  After my customary transparent morning I put all the pieces together so I could climb in the car (the car had several heads as well as a replica of a guillotine from the days of the French Revolution on its roof).  Eileen and I went to the quiet place where fields of shaving sticks stood out of the coarse mud.  All the neighbouring houses had human faces, some asleep, and they quivered and murmured as we carefully cut down the very ladders we were standing on.  I came home with a pail of water over my head.

09/03/09:  I crawled out of the giant plastic doll I had been sleeping in a bit earlier than usual; the sun was still one of many fruit hanging from the dark branches of an overhanging tree.  I put on a large fluffy wig and dangled real fruit earrings - one serpent ate a fruit, the other gave it to the postman.  Poppy and I walked the tightrope with only rudimentary wings protruding from out backs.  After pouring water on the dragon that had accidentally set himself on fire I retired to my reading room to write this.

10/03/09:  I peeled the early hours from the looking glass and crumpled up my wings before I had to get out of bed to play the bugle at a military wake.  All the old soldiers came out of the flag stones to see me smile.  I scowled at the wallpaper which had unceremoniously dropped its pants on the parade ground.  I didn't have time to mix any more paint before having to go to war among the dinner party veterans.  I heard the glasses tinkle some time before the troops charged.

11/03/09:  My first job was to repaint the white on a surrender flag and then the black eye hidden behind a patch on a jolly roger.  I folded up the rest of the morning and packed it away.  After a dinner of rolled up newspapers and cellophane tickets I danced on a head of a pin as June stuck a lighthouse into the cushion, its lamp still revolving like an old record - we argued when I wanted to play the other side. I hid in my studio not realising that over half of the occupants of the town had been recently abducted by aliens.

12/03/09:  The morning was still unshaven as I dragged my beard out of bed.  I talked with the underground train which stretched back into the mists of time.  I thought the mists where sad but he said they were just chocolate coloured.  I came back and waved a red rag in front of our living room bull; June stampeded out and returned later with a carrot sticking out of each ear.  She gave one to the rabbit and listed to the ships calling in the Eighteenth Century harbour.  We made up as I invented a candle that burnt at each end.

13/03/09:  The cannons all fired simultaneously and I found myself posing on the biggest mushroom in the world (I particularly liked the pose where I was spread-eagled like a recently stuck postage stamp).  The man with an unknown ocean on his head helped me put together the dinosaur kit - complete with patented roar.  This took most of the day, giving June ample time to escape from Colditz several times in a row.  In the evening I went to the mad dog's den as the sirens started to sound.

14/03/09:  I talked with the sky spirit first thing in the morning and then walked my wife along a serpent tail to the town where she used to work - she moved her telescope from one pocket to another and I read several verses from the poetry of a cockroach written after it had survived its seventh nuclear war.  I came home and climbed a ladder.  When she came back I designed a bedroom inside a sperm whale and then placed a map of Atlantis on our newly purchased dining room table.  I drunk tea as it slowly sank.

15/03/09:  June left the house early wearing a huge cardboard telephone kiosk - she ran up later to say that the octopus faces were smiling through their suction pad arms.  I stuck myself to the glass of the tallest skyscraper in the world and slowly slid down.  I was out in the garden before the mastodons were resurrected by a new messiah and spent some hours pulling up some pampas grass from the South American plains. After I had made peace with the ground I trudged back in time to the old depot.

16/03/09:  I was woken early by a stick person trying to find his speech bubble.  I finally found it under the bed with all the letters jumbled up.  I ate my dinner like the lead guitarist of a heavy metal band, later scraping porridge off the rimless glasses of a voyeuristic head which had some how left his body on a park bench (whenever I think of a park bench I think of a mansion overlooking a slowly winding stream).  I paddled up stream to my studio and spent the afternoon painting.

17/03/09:  I got out of bed with my fourth leg firmly caught in a bear trap.  I decided not to enter the scene from Greek mythology that was floating several feet above the ground.  Changing my bow and arrow to a watering can I poured water over the antique lamp stand that June had just won in an intergalactic lottery (the presenter had fifteen heads, only three of which were talking).  I picked up my paintbrush like Diomedes picked up his circular saw and spent the afternoon on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic ocean.

18/03/09:  I heard from one of the faces hidden in the four walls; I replied in window talk.  I then went out with my pet snail to get some cabbage leaves for the girls in the local nudist camp - afterwards I had to take the keys back, not remembering any of the husband names as I did so.  Although the gliders hung in the sky like stopped watches I was late getting into the space craft control room.  Once inside I finished my latest grand plan and then went to get some chips.  I noticed I was followed by robots.

19/03/09:  Out in the morning, watching an imaginary steam train draw a line where one hill met another - I then imagined this being unzipped and the cogs on show.  I sat on a burning bush as the old man poured water onto the fire, we exchanged important information before I flew home holding onto the skeleton of a long extinct bird.  I had to go out again almost immediately to polish teeth at the corner house. The darkness came to divide the day into geological periods and I fell asleep after an unusually early lunch.

20/03/09:  I opened the morning judiciously, thinking it was someone else's.  I read the contents of the letter that had fallen to the floor. The white rabbit came in for his appointment as I watched the shadows leave the house.  As the alarm bells rang I sank  into the very deepest recesses of the lake beneath the building - I could still hear the tinkling voices on the pavement above. We went out in the evening to watch the children being loaded onto the dirty face plane - my dinner walked to the table under its own steam.

21/03/09:  I stepped out of a dream and then stepped into another one as my wife took a rope bridge to work - the rope bridge came back without her.  I pulled myself down the deep hole while the midget family fed animals on the dark side of the moon.  June returned home unexpectedly wearing a bag, leaving me to search for the shopping.  Then a huge crane swung over head and removed the roof giving me a chance to complete my explorations - June wore a pizza instead of a face.

22/03/09:  The woman was as thin as paper so I put her between two pages that I read regularly.  I crawled out of the cardboard toaster as the shape left the house - I watched it ascend the hill where the old people wrap dollies in polythene.  It came down again with its pockets full of memories which I planted in the garden.  I marked the spot where the Roman emperor was buried by rose petals (noticing that the bushes had been moved in the night).  I had to go out as the corkscrew was finally extracted from the head.

23/03/09:  As the dust settled from the rodent rock concert I floated down to breakfast on a magic cushion, both of my heads wearing hats (one of which had a lighthouse on top - unfortunately the keeper had gone missing just after he had married a rowing boat).  I wrote a message in the dust that had collected on the bald head of an old prophet which my wife had borrowed from the library.  The paper people turned up after all the notes had been written to take us to see a paint pot - I talked to a roll of wallpaper.

24/03/09:  The paper bag person left the house early just after a head had poked out a crack between the floorboards.  I caught hold of the handle and winched the sea captain aboard.  While my invisible guest danced a hornpipe I made a city in the cat's fur and waited for the batteries in the house of Damocles to run out.  I painted several lines when June was out only joining them together when she emerged from the hold wearing a uniform.  I took off my clothes so that I could be used a board game.

25/03/09:  I sprung into life as the portcullis was raised.  The enemy had already made the stage sets and the orchestra had tuned up.  I hid in a bowl of porridge as a swarm of menacing black shapes floated overhead.  The radio growled so I had to set it free, later finding it again purring among a bed of dandelions.  I sat in a hole as June walked on stilts - the cellophane creatures danced like Northern Lights in the living room.  We both went out as the switch was flicked.

26/03/09:  I left the house as the frog headed man - June was still asleep in a frog spawn bed.  I caught the caterpillar to the leaf where I grew up.  When I arrived the kind old man had a television on his shoulders replacing his head - he changed expressions when I changed channels.  Then we donned pixie hats and helped the lady next door put a smile on her own TV.  I sat on a pupa all the way home mapping little movements in its superstructure.  Later the frog king and queen left the house to paint the town pink.

27/03/09:  I ate my breakfast wearing handcuffs while June stuck magnets in her hair - the rest of the day was spent with her attracting nails and miscellaneous lumps of metal.  I ran a toy car over my head before climbing into my studio and pretending to be an Art Nouveau lamp.  Flower sprites danced around dandelions in the garden before I had a chance to rescue all the heads which had been broken off in the night.  I mended the clock as a police car ran up and down my leg.

28/03/09:  Instead of x-raying the dilapidated mansion walls I decided to tie up all the old beams and rafters that had refused to hold up the roof.  I placed them into bundles and sailed them across the pacific ocean to see if an ancient civilisation could have done likewise.  I did stop halfway to remove a platoon of lead soldiers from the mouth of a passing pelican.  I placed these into a standard football team formation and scored a goal.  While protesting at the referee several alter egos got ready for work.

29/03/09:  Woken by a woolly rhinoceros that was trampling my underpants I got up earlier than usual to sit on a toadstool in the garden.  While contemplating the plight of a family of Eskimos trapped in the Saharan desert I piled several buckets of pulled up weeds into a pyramid into which I deposited a dead pharaoh.  Later while modelling a range of Neanderthal brassieres I noticed a man wrapped in bandages talking to a lady I knew about the high price of utility bills.

30/03/09:  After pealing myself off the lid of a marmalade jar, I walked a robotic cereal packet to the off licence where I handed over their keys - sirens announced the arrival of the Queen of Sheba (which was a disappointment as I had ordered Marie Antoinette).  I had the whole day to myself as I leant on the false rocks of a Hollywood film set stuffing inflatable kayaks into my tights.  During the longer evening I stood on the tiles and shouted at the clouds as they flounced overhead - some shouted back.

31/03/09:  When the theatre curtain was pulled aside I was surprised to find myself laying in an armchair with a funnel in my mouth being fed cold porridge and golden syrup.  The other lady in the production was dressed only in wet flannels.  After learning the language of pink winged stick insects I tried to cram as many small paintings into my pockets as possible.  I had to go to the ice rink in the evening to fall over for money; when I returned I found a cushion with a stigmata and sat on the damp patch.