My Last Day!

 - of being 51, that is.  52 tomorrow.

Birthday Imminent
The rascals at work got me a hamper full of foodstuffs they thought I'd find interesting, and did (Hunter's sausage, pickled mushrooms, incredibly smelly cheese).  Marna came up with a limerick, as it's normally me who produces some doggerel at these events.  And some cheeky, anonymous whippersnapper wrote on my card "Do you have any dark hairs left?"
     This day last year I'd just been offered a permanent job at my current employer, up to that point convinced, and I mean really convinced, that I'd given my worst interview ever.  It was, I believe, the 17th interview I'd had since being made redundant.  Lucky 17th?

More of Food
     Anyone who reads this blog knows I like food, eating it and cooking it.  Tonight it was the turn of potato pancakes.  I found them a bit bland and chucked some Worcestershire sauce in, which improved them.  Currently the Yorkshire Brack is baking, and may need covering with foil to prevent burning.  It's a fatless fruit cake where the fruit soaks overnight in tea to add moisture and flavour, and it keeps well for ages. 
     Tomorrow will find me baking more for Sunday's Cake Day; I may relent and make another Norwegian Pear Cake for wifey, seeing as she loves it so.  It isn't hard to make, it's the baking that bothers, since it cooks at Gas Mark 6 and consequently burns easily if not watched closely.  I find I have to cover it in foil for the last 20 minutes of baking, then cut it up and return it to the extinguished oven upside down in order to get rid of sogginess.

"I'm Walking Backwards For Christmas"
     "Across The Irish Sea" - a ditty by those 50's pioneers of madcap humour The Goons.  Note to any non-UK reader, or indeed any UK reader, not familiar with this lot - go find out! 
     Is this relevant?  Tangentially, dear reader, tangentially.  You see, whenever I get my big sweaty paws on another military history book, the first thing I do is turn to the end, find the bibliography and go through it.  I make note of works that turn up repeatedly, and (true anorak style!) tick off works I own or which I've read.
     Today it was the turn of Simon Ball's "The Bitter Sea", about World War Two as it concerns fighting for the Mediterranean.  The campaign in Tunisia, bordering the Med, involved a certain Gunner Milligan (for which see The Goons) serving in a 7.2" howitzer battery.
     The unfunny thing about Spike is that the Royal Artillery, he being a member, used to make Axis soldiers go pale and quiet when it was mentioned.  They might sneer at Tommy, or his tanks, but the RA, and Spike, were treated with mordant respect.

So - Tanks?

The mighty Bob Semple tank.  New Zealand's finest.  "Finest" spelt "Crap".
 

Behold the awe and mystery of a tank more akin to a cheap Doctor Who monster from the 1970's.  You can imagine it wiggling those machine-gun "arms" and shouting "ELUCIDATE!" in a robotic monotone.
     It would have been highly successful in combat against the Imperial Japanese Army, though.  One look and they'd have died laughing ...

Chin chin!