Sorry, Dude, More Of Food

Actually I'm Not Sorry
Not sorry at all, in fact.  I can be a swine like that!  Conrad and BOOJUM! - unreliable witnesses at best.
     Okay, a coda about those pear and walnut muffins.  Art?

Them again

     You can call me a recycler for using the same picture again, or a cynical blogger upping his word count, although both might apply.
     "Yes yes yes Conrad get on with it, we have Coronation Street to watch!" I hear you complain, you arrant swines.
     Just to inform you that Wonder Wifey discovered the rejected muffins on Friday morning and had a cake breakfast, as they are quite nice, especially if you scrape the black bits off.  

Childlike Delight
Conrad, being old and silly, is always one to find the humour of a six-year old in what he sees and does.  
     Er - that is, if you allowed your six-year old to read "The Goon", which Conrad, being a parent himself, would definitely NOT allow, because of this -

Franky being - well, Franky

     Now, remember the above image when you look at Conrad's food doodle:

Happy pie-face man!

     Of course your humble scribe couldn't leave it at that.  Thus we get:

Knife to the eye!

     Well, it made me laugh, which is probably more telling than I care to know.

Tapioca Flour: A Class "A" Drug
Not really, except Conrad, with a long history of watching "Police Interceptors" and a superstitious fear of the police, did wonder what would happen if - 
     - that's rather jumping the gun.  Let me explain, officer - oops, thinking aloud! - about gluten free flour.   This is expensive stuff, about four times what normal flour costs, and it's major constituents are rice flour, potato flour and tapioca flour.

Tapioca, uncooked

     There isn't a sense of scale there, so allow me to point out that raw tapioca is about the size of this letter o.  Pretty hard it is, too.  You can order it but only from abroad and it costs about £10 a go, so Conrad has tried to process it to produce a powder.
     Not so easy!  You can't do it in a food processor as all that does is produce dusty grit.  Same with a mortar and pestle.
     "So," asked Conrad of Emily and Tom at lunch.  "These things called 'grinders' used to grind up drugs.  Could you grind up tapioca in them?"
     This amused Emily and Tom no end, and perhaps underlined Claire's quotation from my previous job - "Rob (my Sunday best name) I don't think I'll ever work with someone like you again."
     Doing a little research into 'grinders" I don't think they'll be fit for purpose.  Art?

Not really grindy enough

     Emily did mention that they are around in pound shops, so your talented artisan may invest in one.  What I might need is actually a pill grinder.  Art?

Ground into powder

     Now, picture your humble scribe tootling on his way home when he gets pulled over by the <ahem>  po-po doing a random check.  And they turn up his drug and pill grinders, with lots of white powder in them.
      "Ah yes, officer, there's a funny story about that ..."

A Photo Shot Of A Teapot
You know you're middle aged when one of the things that sets your pulses racing is - a new teapot.  Actually let me append a post from a long time ago, almost three years ago, which is both amusing, witty, prescient and also allows me to cynically boost my word count:

You Know You're Middle-Aged When - 

1)  You get childishly excited about your new Kenwood Ice Cream Maker
2)  Your mobile died a week ago and you never noticed
3)  You write your clocking-in times in a diary instead of Outlook
4)  You associate the word "Kindle" with something to be thrown on a fire
5)  You don't recognise any single-name "Celebrities" on the BBC's "Entertainment" page
6)  You do simple arithmetic faster than the youths around you (they don't have the app!)
7)  Your pile of Books To Be Read, stacked one atop the other, is higher than your house
8)  You realise that, sadly, you are never going to make it as an astronaut - ever
9)  Your savings account is actually a scruffy tin pot containing £2,500 in cash
10)  Some kind soul gives up their seat on the tram for you  :(

   
     And here's a two-year old photo of my teapot:

Pristine!

     This came up on Facebook as one of those "We really really love you, really we do" posts.

Oh!  And there were are at the word limit.  See you tomorrow.