Shades Of Grey? Got Them Right Here

Not Fifty Of Them, Though
More like three - light grey, medium grey and dark grey, which almost borders on black.  I refer, of course, to the sunless skies above Manchester and Royton*, on a day where the weather has bookended a few brief hours of scattered sunshine and fluffy clouds with miserable leaking skies.

Well - God did promise to wash Manchester daily

     Atypically Conrad was on an early shift and so got home well before the vertical rivers fell out of the clouds, although he did wade through the sodden city streets this morning.
     Ah, Spring in England!  A thing of beauty - for the three days when it's not pouring down.
     Enough of this dismal depressing diatribe!  On with the motley!

I Might Not Get All This Down
These pages contained a total of 17 words this morning, and now look at them:

 

Conrad's trademark scrawl.  Don't worry, I can read it.

     I'm much too modest to have titled this post "Conrad's Conspicuous Creativity", and I might have gone a little overboard.  The right hand page is a prospective application form, to be used by those wanting to join "Hydra", the villains of the Marvel universe.  It'll have to be done as a Word document and I'm not sure if it can be attached directly to Blogger or if it will need a link.
     Further support for the supposition that Conrad can create scrivel at short notice came at 10:40 this morning, whilst the Ops Support Team were deciding when to give Ian Breen his birthday card and presents.  They decided 11:00.  
     "Has the People Services Poet Laureate come up with an epic verse?" asked Dave, head of Ops Support.
     Had I?  Had I Dog Buns!  Cue a frantic ten minutes trying to create a bit of doggerel.
     Oh no - sit right down!  You're going to get it -

"Happy Birthday Ian Breen,

One-man band-creating machine.

There is truth in what I say,

I've seen Claw The Thin Ice play.

So far I've not see Borland,

That sober, sombre, downbeat band.

Nor yet Well Wisher's athletic set 

(A source of considerable regret)

Finally there's that set of little tykes - 

On a day like this - A Day For Airskrikes"**

     It's not exactly deathless prose, I admit, but it's not bad for five minutes frantic activity.  Is it?

Talking Of Deathless Prose -
Have at thee, varlet! <adopts strange pose with a half-cucumber>***
     I think that's the sort of thing that you'd get people insulting each other with in Shakespearian times, and also "You lily-livered fop".  I'm sure I've analysed that as an insult and how it contravenes the laws of biology and pathology -
     Anyway, livers-made-of-plant-material aside, it is time for today's ritual disembowellment of the Bad of Avon.  These are lines from "MacBeth" that never made the finished folio:

"Is this a dagger I see before me?

'Cause I need something to stir my tea.

And a dagger just won't cut it, see -

('Scuse the pun) I need more spoonish cutlery."

<waggles cucumber dangerously> "Take that, cream-faced loon!"

Dangerous cucumber

151 Wing, RAF
Here's something I didn't know.  Looking up the reference to the "Normadie-Niemen" squadron that fought at the battle of Kursk, I came across the mention of this RAF formation that fought in Soviet Russia alongside the Russians.  
     Unusual, to say the least!  They were only there for a few months in the autumn of 1941, flying Hurricanes in support of the Red Army and Red Air Force initially, before training the Russian pilots in flying the aircraft, liaising with ground control, learning tactics and techniques.  They were based in the far north of Russia, in the defence of Murmansk, where winter lasts 364 days of the year.

Summer in Murmansk!

     The Wing was led by Wing Commander Ramsbottom-Isherwood, and one's mind boggles at how the Russians would have translated his name, let alone pronounced it.  It is a splendid bit of Anglo-Saxon nomenclature and I sincerely hope he was chosen for his name alone.
    He was showered with awards from the Russians, which might have made his career and life a little awkward in later years, and so were pilots Miller, Rook and Haw.  Again, one can only wonder what the Russians thought of such surnames, especially as there is no letter "H" in Russian.

This is Ramsbottom the Snake.  And no, I am not making this up!

     
Also, Did Neanderthals Have Fire?
I shan't cheat and Google the answer.
     It is rather a bizarre post title, I admit, and it came about because Becca and Katie came over to sit with (a grateful and flattered fat old man) me at lunch.  Lunchtimes are quieter and less interesting since they crossed the great - excuse me! - The Great Divide and joined the Payroll team.
     Katie was wondering about the Neanderthal diet.  Did they eat their meat raw?  Did they dry it in the sun?  Did they perhaps cook it at Gas Mark 4 for 2 hours after rubbing an infusion of herbs and seasoning into it?

Arthur Brown.  He's something to do with "fire", I'm sure of it

     Neither Becca nor I knew, and it is rare indeed for Conrad to be at a loss for words on anything^.
     Then Becca showed us photos of a "Bengal Cat", which appears to be a miniature leopard, except it's a cat.  You can only feed it raw meat, four times a day.  It talks to you.  And you can never, ever let it out of doors, or it will run away.

This is THE VERY SAME PICTURE that Becca showed Katie and I

     Rather like Becca's family dog, a terrier, which once spent a whole day down a badger hole, refusing to come out -
     You can see why it's less interesting now that these ladies have crossed the room, can't you?


Finally -

     This is Edna, snoozing in Conrad's "leg nest" last night, as he played a very junior fifth-fiddle to Wonder Wifey, who was off at a comedy gig in Manchester.
     Plainly, I do have my uses.


* This is where I live, not merely a town chose at random.  Just so we're clear.
** Actually it's "A Day For Airstrikes" but I thought I'd be clever and reference the dire weather.
*** It's not a "strange pose", I'm fencing!  With an epee, at least in my mind.
^ Except sport.  Ball, club, ditch, pitch, that's me on sport.