Empty Head Syndrome

No Views of the Muse
     Today, I spent time thinking "What shall I put in the blog?  What shall I put in the blog?"

I wore more clothes

Nothing came to mind.  Nothing entertaining.  I could muse on traffic, or the colour of autumn leaves, but traffic is boring and Conrad hates 99.9% of all poetry.

Food
     A reliable standby.  This evening I made some English muffins - "big ass English muffins" in the words of one observer.  They're not bad, actually, well risen, not yeast-flavoured, nicely browned and with a good aerated texture.  Also big.  What I need is a 31/2" cookie cutter, as 3" is too small and 4" is too big.
     I also made the banoffee ice-cream, which is currently setting in the freezer.  Individually the banana ice cream and caramel were nice, but splicing them together has been a bit awkward and I suspect the end-product may end up rather odd in texture.
     Did I mention the muffins were big?

Bigger than this puny effort

Oh - just finished my cuppa, now I have to go see if there's any left in the pot, hang on ...

... there was half a cup. 

Van Der Graaf Generator


     No!  Not that kind of VDGG.  This kind:

I think they got dressed in the dark ...

That's better.  Yes, the people behind "The Least We Can Do Is Wave To Each Other", which I was listening to tonight for the first time in at least twenty five years.  A record of contrasts, to say the least; some quite elegiac music ("Refugees") and some so scarey it drove Wifey out of the kitchen ("White Hammer").  Although most of my music does that.

No Views of the Booze
     That is, no pub quiz tonight for Conrad and darling daughter.  Rosie and Phil, our counterparts, are away in foreign lands examining constructions known as "Breweries".  By logical extension, these "Breweries" produce "brews", so they must be in India drinking tea.
     This is a good thing, frankly, as we risk being ostracised for being just too good.  Celebrities, sport, soap opera and history, we cover all bases.

Not tonight, Diane

So - Tanks?
     Allow me

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Progvev T

This is a tank mounting a jet engine.  You cranked up the jet turbine, pointed it forward and hey pesto! any mines blew up out of sheer overwhelmedness.

Righto, got to go see how that ice-cream is doing.  Did I mention how big the muffins were?