Normal Service

We'd Restore It - If We Knew What It Was
Normal - Pah! <spits*> Get out of here, normal.  There's the exit door, don't let it waft air over your @rse on the way out.
     Okay, I have already today posted a long post about what I got up to yesterday evening, which amounted to eating, watching and listening.  Riveting, utterly riveting as that must surely be for you, dear reader, there is more to come.
     Yes!  For blather comes easily to a blatherskite**, and odd ideas, words, phrases, concepts, aphorisms, algorithms and analogies continue to pile up in Conrad's cranium.
     The day began quietly, though.

10:45 Saturday morning

      That's the book of notes, Against The Day and crumpets with peanut butter and quince jelly spread upon them.  Plus a cup of English Breakfast tea, obviously - obviously! - as it is breakfast time.

Doctor Who: Forest Of The Night
Here we have the Doctor and Clara and Mister Pink and a dozen small children venturing forth into a London that JG Ballard would have enjoyed: endless greenery imposed over the normal landscape, making it less clarified but also much more picturesque.  

"Forest of the Night?"
It's DAYTIME!

 "Against The Day"
I know I've been banging on about this work by Mister Pynchon for months, but it is i) Long and ii) Complicated.  Today I reached the 845 page treeline, where Cyprian and Danilo are traversing the length and breadth of 1909 Serbia, and where the towns mentioned bring back memories of the 1990's and the civil war in Yugoslavia.  Both these are secondary characters and the action may revert back to the Webb family, or even the Chums of Chance - the dirigible airship crew, do keep up!

It's American, circa 1906 - it really could be the Chums in there!

     Conrad recalls that the Chums at one point made a transit through the centre of the earth, a region never referred to again.  Nor was the peculiar cult of people who communicated by gas main gas-masks.  
     Invention, one feels, is not a faculty Mr Pynchon is even slightly devoid of.  Today Conrad learned that there is a Judeo-Spanish language dubbed "Judezmo" that he had never heard of before, spoken by circa 100,000 people around the Mediterranean littoral.  And there is a quotable line there as well - "You cannot fool the fez" which 3 Mustapha 3 would definitely agree with.

The sons of Shqiperi

"Brandish"
Anthony, who is nearly as well-read and well-spoken as Conrad, and an esteemed work colleague, brought this word up when recalling a serious incident in Picadilly station, about a man "brandishing" a knife.  He remarked that the word is never used in any other context, which is true.

Brandreth.  Close enough

     Conrad, ever eager to seem human, declaimed that he would chase this word up.
     So.  Brandish.  What is your pedigree?
     Old German and the 13th Century, actually - "Brant", which means "weapon".  From there we move to Plain Youthful German and "Brand", which means "sword".  From there we sidle sideways to Old French, and "Brandiss".  Then to Middle English, and "Brandissen" and finally to "Brandish".

Victoria*** And The Tram Structure
As you surely remember going back at least 16 months, gentle reader, Conrad has been documenting in picture form the transition from a giant dereclict shed to a frighteningly modern tram station at Victoria in Manchester.  Here we are clearly approaching the end game, as all the major structural components are in place. The impossibly Huge Crane is still loitering around, which must be costing a fortune in hire fees, unless it still has reason to remain; Conrad doesn't think so, there isn't anything particularly enormous waiting to be lifted into position.

A view from the seventh floor

Another View From The Seventh Floor
For reasons unknown to modern science, certain people on our floor (Resourcing I'm looking directly with dual 150 terawatt laser vision at YOU!) are constitutionally unable to wash cups and glasses.  This tragic condition needs your support and help, gentle reader, so reach deep into your pockets and donate to the Vitreo-Ceramic Ablution-Disorder Charity.
     With your help, situations like this will be a thing of the past!

The tragedy, the tragedy

Naan Bread
Gluten-free naan bread, to be precise.  Conrad had to conflate the Paul Hollywood recipe with instructions on the bag of GF Bread flour.  They are not the same at all!  For one thing, the GF naan dough is not kneaded^, and it doesn't have a second proving that normal bread dough does.  I've made that mistake before now.  Plus you need vinegar and egg and olive oil in the GF flour.
     End result looks reasonable, but since this is the first time Conrad has made naan bread he doesn't have a baseline for comparison.  It tastes okay, if not quite like a normal naan.
  Wonder Wifey has moderated opinion from "Ewwww!" to "Alright"

* In metaphor. Conrad is too well-mannered to spit. He may froth, but he doesn't spit.
** No it's not a rude word.  Go look it up!  In fact it's probably been on BOOJUM!
*** Victoria Station.  Not Victoria A Person.  Do keep up!
^ Allow a weary sigh and pause here for those who cannot resist a comment ...