As One Door Opens -

The Through-Draught Causes Another To Slam Shut
Such is the way with house design, and metaphors.
     "Stop being so high-brow, Conrad, and explain in simple English what you mean!" I can hear you pleading, hoping that the explanation won't include too many long words derived from Latin or Greek that nobody in this country has used for the past 150 years.
     All I mean, as a counterpoint to yesterday's commiseration over the filling of my notebook, is that I've now started filling up a new one, which is larger and thus a better canvas to express myself, thus:

Page the first

The second and third pages

     So here you have the blog notes for another two themed posts about Mars, another themed post about "Z", today's notes and a pome for Lisa, who is Fifty on Sunday but who jets off to Portugal today.
     Enough preamble, let the motley begin!

The Carcasses Of Cakes
Nothing to do with your humble scribe and amateur baker, these were baked by Anna, on the left - what's left - and Janice on the right.

Not much remained of either

     You can also see the lid of a box of Thornton's Mint chocolates, which were placed perilously close to Conrad, so I had no choice but to eat them before they became unstable and exploded.  Or became poisonous.  Or both.  Chocolates provided by Lisa, as you're not Fifty every day.

Buzzfeed Bampots
I'm really not sure how or why a drivelling inanity comes on in the background whilst I've been looking at what are, frankly, clickbait items on Buzzfeed.  This rhapsodical wretch goes on about a drink from somewhere, that might be MucDonalds or Burgerkink or KFD, and as I've no idea which it's obviously not very successful.  Mostly because I kill the volume the instant it comes on.

KILL THE SOUND!

No!  Not you, lads - there's been a mistake somewhere -

     However, the odd thing is that it's banging on about this "Summer drink", which again is ADVERT FAIL! since we are indisputably in Autumn.  It's dark in the morning, dark in the evening, damp, rainy and the leaves are all falling.  Whoever programmed in this repellent aural pustule really ought to get out of their parent's basement and look at the weather.


A Jeeves Mop-Up
OR
What Bertie Would Call "A Cold Collation"
This item is to nail, glue and entwine altogether a series of notes I have made whilst reading the world's most foremost Frothy Nonsense Author.
     P. G. Wodehouse, that's who!  Tch.  Don't ask "Who?" in that tone of voice again.
     "Telegram": I don't know if these still exist but rather doubt it.  They were all the rage before the mobile phone.  What you would do was go into a Post Office and dictate a message, paying by the word.  "Must see you Friday stop urgent stop fate of I Zingari cricket club rests on it stop" is the sort of thing you'd send, and it would be printed off at the other end's Post Office and delivered as a message in an envelope.  A back-and-forth in "The Inimitable Jeeves" took several hours to accomplish, which was white hot telecoms back in the Twenties.  So now you know.

Telegram Sam.
Now, sadly, on the dole

     "Oom Berooofem": a quote by Aunt Agatha.  Nobody alive seems to know what it means, so it may have been topical slang ninety years ago.  Any answers on a postcard to the Mansion, please.
     Anton's Cuisine: Anton is the insanely gifted chef resident at Brinkley Court.  Plum often describes his dishes, e.g. "Nonettes de poulet Agnes Sorel" or "Crepes a la Rossini". Conrad has realised that these are real dishes given a bit of extra title - the "Agnes Sorel" may again have been a personage of the Twenties - but we'll never really know.

Agnes Sorel with her clothes on.
I may enlarge on this later

     Old Home Week In Moscow:  Old Home Week is an American institution, where the previous denizens of a town all return for a big celebration.  Presumably Plum means that this event if held in Moscow would be a major razzle-dazzle?  Perhaps not, given Stalin's temperament.
     The Russian PG Wodehouse Society: this is a real thing.  It exists.  See, Mr Obama?  Them Russians are not graceless, humourless troglodyte boors
     "A Toad Under The Harrow": a phrase Bertie uses several times.  It's a proverb from the Fourteenth Century, implying suffering and distress, as a harrow is a farm implement that would convert a toad into organic fertiliser in very short order.

A harrow.
Not to be confused with an Eton.

     "Bohea": Oolong tea.  I suspected as much.
     "Oxford Smalls": a set of simple exams in Latin, Greek and maths, given verbally to students at Oxford.  They were also known as "Littles".  Bertie required considerable coaching to pass his, which is not surprising; stout-hearted chap he may be, noble and a bon vivant, but intellectual he is not!

Oxford Bigs.
Well, actually "Bags", but you get the pun.

What's In A Name?
And Conrad once again fires up his satirical pen - yes, literally, I worked this out in my old notebook before typing it up - and directs his ire and fire at film titles.  Why?  Why not!

THE MARXIAN: "They don't call it the RED Planet for nothing!"

MISS YOU ALREADY:"First there was Miss Chief, then Miss Understanding, and now ..."

THE GOBSTER:"It's all about the bite"

MACBREATH: "The malt mouthwash for MEN!"

SO.LACE:" A terrifying thriller set in the Liege embroidery industry."

The Commies got there first!  Eeeek!

"Operation Sealion" By Leo McKinstry
I was sure I had another volume by Leo, yet it's not in my index, so maybe I imagined it.  
     This work is a very detailed look at the summer of 1940, where the Germans stood poised on their side of the Channel, desperate to get across it and get to grips with the British.  Who were equally thirsting for the chance to get it on with the bally Hun*.
     Anyway, Leo mentions one of the armoured cars that the British produced at first in the summer of 1940: the Humber Light Reconnaissance Car.  He further states that it served in North Africa, which is where the needle left the record.

Ah, for one of these in Manchester traffic!

     What? queried Conrad, who has an encyclopaedic knowledge of what vehicles served in the Desert War.  No it didn't!
     Nor did it serve in the Desert.  It went to Tunisia, as a ground vehicle with the RAF.  
     Told you.

A faithful Humber LRC, guarding aeroplanes.

* We're tremendous chums now, of course, so forgive me for this strident insult.