"First, catch your rabbit."

Self-referentialism
Anna, work colleague who is tolerant enough of Conrad's foibles to actually express an interest in this blog, asked - "How do you find it?"

Long pause.

Conrad shrugs shoulders, mumbles something about "Erm, Blogger, BOOJUM!, Google, got to dash."

The winning combination is Googling "BOOJUM!" and "comsatangel2002" - obviously!  How could it be anything else!  The lady will get an update tomorrow.  In the meantime I have to post a cuddly animal photo instead of a tank.  So - let's have some lambs.

Lamb.

No! NO!  Bloody hell, she's a vegetarian!  Conrad, get your act together!

So cute even Darth Vader would go "Ahhhh!"

 Time for an abrupt change of subject.

Baldwin's Big Boy or The View From My Window Part 2
     The crane is back.

The jib is added.  This jib arrived on it's own low-loader.

The pulley housing is added to the jib.

After counterweights have been loaded, the jib is erected

I didn't take a photo of the actual crane arm being attached.  I anticipate the assembled crane will be in action tomorrow - more photos unless our Team Manager is patrolling the floor, as I fear her only slightly less than Death itself.

This week's cake is -
     Actually a biscuit, Almond Fingers.  Long has Conrad been taunted by K-Mo, about what he should bake for the floor, which usually involved baking what K-Mo wanted.  I bearded her dragon in it's lair - actually strike that, it sounds rude.  I hurled my 1,000 Recipe Book at her and said "Pick any cake and I'll make it!" and along came Almond Fingers.  Also Coconut Pyramids.  Not sure about these.  Normally on a Thursday my time is limited by Pub Quiz, and because I intend to go out drinking with colleagues on Friday I need to do the weekly shop tomorrow, so time will be a bit squeeeezed.

Whilst Bathing At Baxters*
     I came up with a bit of doggerel.  Look, Conrad is a creature of habit and wants the office teaspoons back.  Cruel editorial staff refused to add baiting, biting, withering citric criticism of those stolen spoons to our weekly news e-mail, so in spite I created this:

I wandered, lonely as a cloud
Into the kitchen, where I'm allowed.
I recalled those balmy days of June
When we did not suffer loss of SPOON.

O wad some power the giftie gie us
To see ourselves as ithers see us.
This would not worry me, I'm not a loon
And know that I did not steal the SPOON.

I met a traveller from a foreign land.
He had a theme - I shall expand.
He spoke of wreck and woe and ruin.
An empire fallen because of no SPOON.

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Whilst you're about it - unless you die soon  -
Repent of thy sins and thy theft of the SPOON.

I hate poetry with a passion, but the first line or two of these are from famous poems.  Did you recognise them, gentle reader?

Also, because Conrad is a creature of habit

2587 teaspoons in June

*Yes, it's another music reference.  Jefferson Airplane.  I composed this rhyme whilst walking to work, which - actually it does have alliteration.  I may revisit in future.