Ten reasons why my Dad was Winnie-the-Pooh

I think my Dad was Winnie the Pooh. No, I'm not going mad, here are the reasons why.

1)      He like bees

2)      He liked honey

3)      He collected honey from bees

4)      He looked like Winnie the Pooh

5)      He said stuff like Winnie the Pooh

6)      He knew all of Pooh's hums

7)      I was Piglet

8)      He went on pointless missions

9)      I think we may have lived in The Hundred Acre Wood (admittedly it was smaller but...)

10)  He was clever like Pooh

Let me elaborate:

1)     My Dad liked Bees, he kept Bees, he knew more about Bees than everybody else, he even went on Nationwide or something to explain Bee stuff (I think my nephew has now surpassed my Dad's bee knowledge, but he is just my nephew and is not Winnie the Pooh...I have checked).

2)     He liked honey on his toast and would often quote Anonymous, although I never saw him actually eat peas and honey (who is probably a very shy Winnie the Pooh, who doesn't want credit for his poetry). This is the poem I am referring to:

I eat my peas with honey;

I've done it all my life.

            It makes the peas taste funny,

            But it keeps them on the knife.

3)     Every year my Mum and Dad (my Mum isn't Winnie the Pooh either...that would be ridiculous) would extract the honey. The whole house smelled of it, the bee's would go mad but my Mum and Dad would give them other food to keep them going through the winter so it was OK and because my Dad liked bees - please refer to point 

4)     Look #thatisall

Never was a man more Pooh like

5)     Dad often referenced Pooh’s words of wisdom, to help me get through life, but he had some sayings of his own. For example; You don't have to fix every lame duck you see (with reference to my long list of rubbish boyfriends). It's only a thing (when you have broken something of sentimental value). Damn and blast that woman (when switching off the radio at the sound of Margaret Thatcher's voice) and finally, we will see what we will see (which is nonsense). You get the gist.

6)     He did know all of Pooh's hums, he would also regularly quote Shakespeare and The Jabberwocky. He loved words.

7)     My Dad used to write to me when I was at college and after. I was never Jane; I was Dear Piglet or Dear Prunling. But I was mostly Piglet to his Pooh. 

8)     My Dad loved going on trips, we went to Ireland when I was quite small. I don't really remember it, but I do know that whilst there, I fell in numerous puddles, as is my want. And the car broke down whilst we meandered through the various counties, this was what we did on holiday, just drive around and 'see what we will see'. One mission, more recently, involved him trying to take on a badger that was attacking his garden at night. He was quite cross about the badger and went out fork in hand ready to get it. My Mum was furious with him, as he was over eighty and had a propensity for falling down and not being able to get back up (too much honey?). It wasn't a success, the badger continued to ransack the garden until it got bored and gave up.

9)     I grew up in the countryside with a little wood in walking distance for adventures. Not quite a hundred acres but good enough.

10) Dad was a very clever man, he wrote plays, poems, short stories (all his grandchildren, have stories just for them), and a novel. He was the person I went to for advice when I didn't know what to do, and he was like Google before Google. As a child and as an adult I was absolutely convinced he knew everything, to which he would always reply, 'the older I get the more I realise, I know absolutely nothing'. Wise words indeed. And still Pooh. 

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