Embarrassment Of Riches

Or, Being Baggy
     Today Conrad had to bid a fond farewell to his trusty companion, faithful comrade, travelling confidante and all-round accomodater.  I threw him in the bin, after drowning him, then hanging him upside down.

" - and may God have mercy on your soul."

     Yes, the repellent scent of cat urine persisted even after two washings and airings, at which point a third party* took an interest and provided a few alternatives, to wit:

O which to choose; I am all confuse

     So next week will see Conrad test-driving these substitutes to see if they can contain a notebook, journal, diary, at least two reading books (one of them being that doorstop by Pynchon "Against The Day"), bottle of ink, pencil case, mobile phone, 3D glasses, lunchbox, bottle of pop and a banana. And a jar of Marmite.  And some French loaf.  Oh, and a jar of honey.  Maybe some dips, too.

Further Adventures with H2O
     I was requested to get bottled water yesteryon, and proudly arrived back at the Mansion with: 

The Suckable-Top Bottle!  Ten of  'em!

     only to be soundly beaten around the ears and informed that "these bottles suck" and not in the good, expected way.
     Today Conrad bought the correct version:

Screw top is hot.

     He was soundly beaten around the ears - no, only joking!  He was given three different rucksacks to choose from.  
     What the heck.  Water is water - who cares how it comes out of the bottle?**

Tomato Salsa
     To enlarge a little on what I posted upon Facebook, this afternoon I whisked up a heap of tomato salsa.
     What's that?  Pictures or it never happened?  Very well, disbeliever!**

Hay Pesto - tomato salsa

     Of course preparation is everything.  The tomatoes and onion need to be very finely chopped, which took quite a while.  I predict it will either vanish very quickly or sit untouched - oh no, Sally will be home next week - vanish quickly it is.

Doilies, Anti-macassars and Thomas Pynchon (Or, Coincidence Strikes Again)
     Wonder Wifey, back from one of her shopping trawls amongst the charity shops, proudly displayed a lace doily.
     'Reminds me of an anti-macassar,' quoth Conrad.
     Okay, we shall now trip back lightly in time to the Victorian era, where men were men, women didn't have the vote and Ambrose Bierce chose journalism not the army.
     I say men were men, but they were also pomaded peacocks who slathered their hair with oils, pre-eminent amongst which was Macassar.  Remember that word.
     Now, in order to prevent this oily liquid from irreperably staining their chairs, ladies of the house would put a woven anti-macassar over the back of their chairs.  Simples!

Protects against oiled hair - and - er - oily hands?  As used by car mechanic's wives?

     What do I find today on Page 15 of Pynchon's "Against The Day"?  Yes, one of the characters oiling his hair with "Macassar".
     Philip K Dick would have an explanation for this, oh yes, believe you me.  Phil?

"Aliens are subverting your reality, Conrad.  It's the only  reason that makes sense!"

     Okay, Phil, you can stay out of the box for a while.

Thank You, Subconscious.  I Think.
     Sub, as he is nicknamed around the circles of Conrad's consciousness, had been warned about a series of rather boring dreams.  Last night he came up with an original one - the dreamer was a sales assistant.  Conrad might have protested that "this is a bit boring!", except he was put in charge of the ladies lingerie section of a large department store.  Fortunately the need to awaken and visit the bathroom occurred before anything seedy or tasteless happened; Sub knows that this is a refined and elegant blog that does not stoop to either smut or ladies not wearing much.  Also Wonder Wifey would not be amused ...

A Liberty Bodice.  As racy as it gets here on BOOJUM!

And Lastly -
     Took Edna to the park today for a bit of excercise, doggy-socialising and off-lead training.  The concept of "bring the stick/pine-cone/ball back" is something we will have to work on.  Otherwise she had a ball running round and being everyone's favourite puppy

"Sit!  Yes, I can do that now.  Decline a Latin Verb?  By this time next week, honest!"

* Wonder Wifey, inevitably.  She and that rucksack just did not see eye-to-eye
**  You were expecting some vulgar play on the word "screw", weren't you? Hah!