Service has Been Resumed. Hoorah.

I Won't Bother Describing What Sort Of Service
Most of you reading have an age and IQ in the double-digits, you can decided for yourself.
     "What is the delirious old soak babbling on about now?" I hear you saying and THANK YOU SO MUCH! for the vote of confidence in my condition of cold sobriety.
     Let me put before you my notes from this morning; I shan't do the C21 shortcut and post a picture because the bus suspension is so poor and the potholes so bad that it looks as if an armada of ants mounted a cavalry charge across the pages after bathing in a pond of black ink.  So -

Er - as close as I could get

     Here I am with notebook and pen, technology going back 4000 years, pleading the case of C21 technology that is currently hors de combat.  The Mansion is undergoing one of it's occasional revolutions in technology - NO! the hamsters are not being replaced by guinea pigs - and our ISP is accordingly going from the charisma-free corporate conglomerate colossus that is BT, to Plusnet, fronted by that personable young Yorkshireman with all the spoons.  Now, I did broadcast a warning about this last night, so it'll be telling to see how many of you PAID ATTENTION and how many of you are gibbering with leer and clothing at an absence of BOOJUM!
     These technical issues may be resolved later today, in which case this scrivel will be rapidly transcribed and the long slow bus journey will have been productive, and none of this will be in the past tense.
     Talking of which, last night I did posit several criteria for getting into work on time (as I was on an 8:00 start this morning):
     1)  Bus turns up =   always a good start
      2)  Bus is on time =  - unusually!
      3)  Not too many passengers =  the preceding 181 and 182 picked them all up
     4)  No traffic jams =  - because it is early in the morning
     5)  No Roadworks =   X - Sorry, Rob, fallen at the last sense.  Pride and all that.
     You can take a horse to water, but can you make him climb in cauldron and get turned into stew?

The Cake
Very mundane, I know.  However, if dealt lemons, make lemonade.  When dealt bathces of badly-bruised bananas, make banana bread.

     Forewarned this time, Conrad lined the tin, visible above for ye skeptics amongst ye.  End result = a cake that practically waltzed it's way out of the tin.  Gluten-free, which is not to say Glutton-free as Wonder Wifey was poking yours truly in the ribs with a corkscrew as a gentle hint to make it.

Traffic
Here's a thing <Mister Hand apologises for the thinly-veiled preening self-promotion that follows**>  - we hit 23,000 visits over the weekend (DRUMS! TRUMPETS! CONFETTI!) yet "Last Months" stats continue to decline over time.  At first I wondered just how this was possible, until quite by chance I discovered that the British Army has an "Electronic Warfare Regiment", and there's the problem and solution -
     - sorry, what's that?  Are the white vans still parked up out - hang on, let's see -

    O!  I see your point.  Clearly the Charm Offensive needs to continue.
     COYLY CAPERING CAPYBARAS!  COYLY CAPERING CAPYBARAS!

The Trees Displease
Not of themselves, you understand, 

"Ah.  I was worried."

it's just that they provide a roosting place for the birds, who, as per Dog Buns! usual were peeping and cheeping away this morning.  Why poetic fools named it the "dawn chorus" is beyond me, it was at least another hour before the sun bothered to show up for work.  And in the cold, damp darkness, what the heck have those befeathered rascals have to laugh about?

BLACKBIRD:  Good MORNING!
THRUSH:  GOOD Morning!
BB:  The comedy was a bit thin on Friday, what?
T:  Yes.  It's unfair of Fatty to absent himself from the bus stop.
BB: Agreed.  Making up for it today, though.
T:  Aye, oh my.  You can say his head-plumage is exuberant today.  Look at it move in the wind - up, down, side to side - it's got it's own dance routine.
BB:  Humans, ah me.  Fur is a distant second to feathers, any day of the week.
T:  I wonder why he renders it white?
BB:  Well, it's supposed to attract the opposite sex.
T:  Really?  Ha ha!  Try harder, Fatty!
BB:  I don't think he realises there's a difference between "Bottle Blonde" and "Pensioner White".
T:  His face-fur does have compensations.
BB:  Really?  Please tell!
T:  It covers up part of his face.
BB:  Oh, I see.  Maybe we should canvass to curtail a clippering?
T:  OY!  FATTY!  Forget fur-trimming yer face!
STARLING:  Fewmeets, him again!  Talk about scary and hairy, I was looking in the bath-

 - then the bus came.

Oh, here's a Capybara:

"I ain't spoiling my cool by capering.  Not for anyone."

"Damn!! You found my secret weakness!"

* More cavalry themes.  
** Damn that hand!  If I wasn't so attached to him I'd cut him off at the wrist