"Revenant". Thank You, Brewers. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Allow Me A Minute
As you may have guessed, gentle reader, I intended to look within "Brewers Dictionary of Phrase and Fable" for a blog title, except that this one -  GAH!
     What is the title of the Zombie Apocalypse novel I have not that long finished writing?
     "Revelations"
     Why is this relevant?  Because, to avoid panic amongst the population of the UK, in my MSS the official term for "zombie" is the much less emotionally-laden "revenant".
     What is upon the page that I open at random in "Brewers"?
     Yes!  "Revenant"!


A Photo-Essay Contemplating Domestic Harmony
As I might have mentioned once or twice now, Conrad is officially in charge of Edna until the return of Wonder Wifey (and Degsy), from the flesh-pots of Milton Keynes*.  This means at least one blog given over to proving that the Wunderhund is still both i) Wunder and ii) Hund.  Fiat lux!

     Here we see an old fat man using a dog as pillow.
     (Any time you want to jump in with a bit of flattery about "old" or "fat", don't feel inhibited)
     Then we have both cat and dog living together in harmony:

Irony in that the cat is in the dog bed.

     This tends to last for only as long as the cat stays put: once she runs, Edna follows.  Edders also, at long last, took notice of the rather repellent ham-bone that had been touted as "Ooooh yes chuck her this and you can sidle off for simply hours":

     Evidence also of Edders being taken on a rather damp walk:

Dog lead made out of Sprong, apparently

     And here a pictorial aside:

It's a snail

     One of at least half-a-dozen slugs and snails, all desperately dashing across the pavement, that Conrad encountered.  No danger of dehydration today for the mobile molluscs!
     Edna, rather earlier in the day, showed that she appreciated Conrad's being available as a dog-nest:

But only for a limited time

     From pillow to lap-dog, as it were.
     As I mentioned in an earlier post, when we came back from Walkies, Edna felt behooved** to bolt around the house, from the farthest corner of the kitchen to the uppermost edge of the Lair.  This did not last long:

    
Conrad: Not One For Laurel-Resting
No, I am not.  Lo and behold, here you can cast your glazzies across the rubbish left in and upon the kitchen worktops, after me making Peach Ice Cream last night:

Egad!

     I know, I know, a positively shocking concupiscence*** of crocks and pots.  After taking Edna for a walk, I ploughed into them:

And "'Zbloods!"

     and then came across this article:

A flyswatter,  just so we're clear

     A cheap plastic flyswatter, if you need to be told twice.  I hope you noticed the fractured top.  As this is a <emphasis> cheap flyswatter, the plastic isn't particularly able to handle impacts or kinetic energy and flies^ apart at the slightest whack.  This is actually a good thing, since if you miss Herr Bluebottle on your first strike, the shrapnel effect of splintering cheap plastic may enable you to score with a second bite of the cherry, so to speak.

Ah, What A World Of Wet We Have!
I got up at half-eight this morning, and it was raining.  It didn't slacken off for another seven hours.  Take a look at this photo:

You really could canoe down Tandle Hill in this lot

     I was struck by how verdant and vivacious the plant life is here.  The answer to this vague pondering is obvious:

"Why is this vista so vibrant and green?

Because of our lifestyle, sub marine.

Everything has gotten a watery sheen,

And our streets are Oh! ever so clean."

A Recollection
I have to say it's easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy-put-it-in-your-pipe-and-smoke-till-you're-queasy to add this stuff from 2 years ago.  Allow me:

BOOKS

Collected another 8 books from the Post Office Sorting Depot, which came in two giant parcels that most definitely would not fit through the letter-box.  This means my military history collection now approaches 400 books, as opposed to the 500 I had before the Giant Book Cull of 2010. 

What's that?  Of course I haven't read them all!  Collecting them is an end in itself!  The bitter fork-prod of irony is that now I'm working I can afford to buy the books, but don't have time to read them; whilst on the dole I couldn't afford to buy any but had ample time to read them. 

There are people who go into a decline and turn into urban fossils when they finish working because they have nothing to fill their empty haunted lives with; well I have hundreds of books to read, thanks, so bugger off anomie!

Of course I continue to buy books, but the true total now stands at over 600, and now that I've been working for a couple of years, I have managed to organise myself in a more efficient manner.  The downside now is that I'm writing a blog each night for an hour, so - look, do you know anyone with a TARDIS?

ICE CREAM

If anyone read yesterday's post (I don't flatter myself that this figure =>1) then let it be known that the ice-cream turned out rather successfully.  Extremely solid but without a lot of ice-crystals.  Sophie, wise lady catering consultant at work, states that adding liquid glucose prevents the mix from becoming an utterly immovable block.  I shall try this next time.  First, of course, we have to finish this lot of ice cream.

The ice-cream making is once again back on the bill, except for "liquid glucose", for which substitute "at least a couple of tablespoons of vodka"

DEATH

In other late-breaking news, Ambrose Bierce is 172 years old.  Mr Bierce has successfully cheated the Grim Reaper for over a century now.  Speaking from his New Mexico canyon hideout, he refused to share the secret of immortality with the rest of us, because the rest of us are, in his words "jackasses".  Thank you Ambrose.  I baked this cake for your birthday but you aren't getting it now.

Er - I think this might be better understood by my loyal South Canadian audience.  Utter whimsy!

* Don't laugh. They exist.
** I hope you Russian squaddies apprecitate the trouble I take!
*** I haven't looked this word up and it's probably wrong, but how many of YOU are going to bother to check?  Exactly.
^ Do you see what I - O you do.