Discerning And Spurning

Say Hello To A Sulky Rascal
NO!  Not Conrad on a good day.  Edna.  Edna the dog.  Here she is:

     No, Edna, you cannot lick the Chicken Bhuna carton clean, for it has 3 chillies on the warning label and a Scoville rating of Rather Fiery.  No, Edna, you cannot score a handful of Whitworth's fruit and nut mix as it has raisins in (at least I claim so) which are BAD for dogs.  No, Edna, you cannot have a healthy portion of my lunch that I am preparing for tomorrow, as it is MY LUNCH.  So, supine and spurning as you see above, her non-verbal language for "My Life Is Abject Misery".

The History Of The Pelopponesian War By Thucydides
Ah, you thought you'd heard the last of this, didn't you?  SIT BACK DOWN!  It is interesting!  At the point I've reached the Spartan general Brasidas has successfully reached Thrace and is about to kick bottom versus the Athenians and their allies.
     The Spartans, frankly, were lucky to have Brasidas.  You know that word "laconic"?  It is derived from "Lacon", the Spartan word for Sparta, as the Spartans were not big on talking.  When they were in danger of famine they sent a delegation to their neighbours with an empty sack, opening it and making a speech of exactly two words:  "Needs grain."  they were, of course, harshly criticised for being so wildly chatty when a single word ("Empty") would have done.

Laconic, see?

     Anyway, charming little anecdotes aside, Brasidas proved to be a good orator amongst the tribes of Thrace, and to also possess impeccable manners, which impressed the locals no end.  Giving, one has to ruefully admit, a wholly wrong impression of the rest of Sparta.

"Molon labe, punk."

Sometimes An Old Dog -
Sophie - sorry now she's this Sophie not that Sophie, just to be confusing - revealed her middle name is "Valentina".
     "Oooh, would that be after Valentina Tereschkova, first woman into space?" enquired your humble scribe (insert sunshine and flowers here, gentle reader, for she was Russian).
     "Yeeees," replied Sophie, now a little worried.  "Nobody else has ever known where it came from."

Valentina (looking a bit like Sandy Toksvig), back when  she was a member of the Caucasian Combat Camel Patrol

     Well, only you, Sophie, I the author and anyone who reads this, all of perhaps as many as two or three people.  A secret almost safe!
     On occasion it's better to be old and wise, one feels ...

The Birds And Their Words
For once Conrad can appreciate their hideously humourous heckling and jeckling.  There were no clouds this morning, merely a bright blue sky.  Cold, yes, yet dry.  As dry on the outside as your modest artisan is on the inside*.  So I can understand a little morning levity.

BLACKBIRD:  Good MORNING!

THRUSH: GOOD Morning!

BB:  Nice weather for ducks -

T: The whole avian kindgom, in fact!

BB: Steady on there, less emotion.  We may be birds but we're British birds.

T:  Sorry.  Early touch of Spring rapture.

BB:  You and your emotional baggage -

T: Speaking of which, here's Fatty with his.  Why one earth does he have so much?

BB:  I can see into the lunch sack he's got.  There's a jar: ""Live Beetles in Honey"

T:  Eminently sensible stuff - after all, who the devil would eat dead beetles?

BB: And a Taster Tester: "Roast Porcupine Spleens"

T:  Ah, living the dream!

BB:  Plus what looks like a couple of stale French loaves.

T:  WHAT!  Hey, that was my dinner!  The nerve of him, nicking it off the back yard flags.

BB:  No, no, this came out of the bread bin.

T: Oh.  Oh well, that's okay then.

BB: Conrad - we shall forego "Fatty" this once - clearly has excellent taste.  He's just a big greedy with it.

Well I did have more, lots more, except I've also got the weekly shop to do, and Morrisons doesn't stay open all night.




* Yes, I realise I'm banging on about this sobriety stuff a lot but let's face it, nobody else is going to promote my wits being unusually citric and picric.