BOOKS
Collected another 8 books from the Post Office Sorting Depot, which came in two giant parcels that most definitely would not fit through the letter-box.  This means my military history collection now approaches 400 books, as opposed to the 500 I had before the Giant Book Cull of 2010. 

What's that?  Of course I haven't read them all!  Collecting them is an end in itself!  The bitter fork-prod of irony is that now I'm working I can afford to buy the books, but don't have time to read them; whilst on the dole I couldn't afford to buy any but had ample time to read them. 

There are people who go into a decline and turn into urban fossils when they finish working because they have nothing to fill their empty haunted lives with; well I have hundreds of books to read, thanks, so bugger off anomie!

ICE CREAM
If anyone read yesterday's post (I don't flatter myself that this figure =>1) then let it be known that the ice-cream turned out rather successfully.  Extremely solid but without a lot of ice-crystals.  Sophie, wise lady catering consultant at work, states that adding liquid glucose prevents the mix from becoming an utterly immovable block.  I shall try this next time.  First, of course, we have to finish this lot of ice cream.

DEATH
In other late-breaking news, Ambrose Bierce is 172 years old.  Mr Bierce has successfully cheated the Grim Reaper for over a century now.  Speaking from his New Mexico canyon hideout, he refused to share the secret of immortality with the rest of us, because the rest of us are, in his words "jackasses".  Thank you Ambrose.  I baked this cake for your birthday but you aren't getting it now.

Toodle Pip!