A Bit Of A Melange

Which Is To Say, A Mixture -
 - and nothing at all to do with the Spice harvested from the planet Arrakis in Frank Herbert's "Dune" novels.
     There.  Now that burning issue is out of the way, Behold! The Murdermobile is once again back in running order and back at the Mansion.  Since I didn't bother to take a photo of it, and can't be bothered to trek downstairs, across the minefields and over the barbed wire, here's a stock photo:

Ugly, distinctive and definitely stands out in the car park

     The Fiat Qubo.  Originally this mis-firing bucket of bolts <yadda yadda car stuff> knackered clutch <arga warga more of motors> exploding nuclear reactor <eh?> sorry knackered clutch -

Similar to the state of ours when removed

 - then the ECU died on it's bottom (that's a technical phrase car mechanics use).  We then had to have a new one ordered from Pluto Italy, wait for it to arrive and have it replaced.  Today I now have a dead ECU, lobotomised and extracted from the car's carcase.  Art?

Electronic Crap Unit, at a guess

     Suggestions about what to do with it - SFW please! - can be added in the Comments.
     I am keeping this Intro short, as there can be few things less appealing to a reader than some car-clueless scribe's forlorn wailings about his motiveless motor, bar photos of a drunken party that you had to be at to appreciate.
     This, effortlessly and seamlessly, leads into our next item, to wit:

The Weekly Shop
SIT BACK DOWN!  This is interesting*!  Not so much what to get, as the communal decision about what to get.  Not having the Murdermobile of late meant not being able to travel further than Royton and the Co-Op to get a few basic essentials**, so I shall be doing the weekly shopping tomorrow - after diverting Edna with the Brick.
     I made a list of what I thought we needed:

Extra-Large so you can appreciate my exquisite penmanship
Er - that ticket on the left is for "Hardcore Henry" lest you wonder ...

     Now, the other members of the Mansion being absent in far sunnier climes, I did see fit to warn them that any requests should be sent in smartish to prevent disappointment.  They came through with this:

All Degsy's idea.  Clever chap, that

     So I've now added more to my hand-written list.  A combination of 19th and 21st Century technology, a triumph for man!

Speaking Of Small Furry Animals -
As above, I shall have to abandon Edders whilst I go off and do the shopping, for perhaps as long as an hour.  She can be distracted for 5 minutes at the most when the Dog Puzzle is loaded with treats -

Brick dog puzzle

     Let me add evidence that we went walking despite the rain today:

Edna loving the wet grass

     Of course she abandoned all dignity to roll on the wet grass, thus guaranteeing a towel-fight when we got back to the kitchen.  This is the only method of getting her dry again; it's no use trying to delicately tickle her with a scented tissue, you have to wrestle her fur to dryness.
     Once dried and relaxing after her walk, Edna also makes a handy book-rest:

Extra-large so you can appreciate my exquisite penmanship, and the furry book-rest

    - unless Wonder Wifey is reading this, in which case this only lasted for seconds, mere seconds.

And Now A Bit Of The First Unpleasantness
You know Conrad, always reading, always reading military history, always reading military history and informing you all about it at length and in detail.
     I am nearly at the end of Captain Cyril Fall's "History of the 36th (Ulster) Division" and came across a sin that authors of his generation are apt to make - quoting in a foreign language, normally French, Latin or Greek, and - not providing a translation!
     "Heu quantum mutata" he writes, upon moving back into an area the Division had been billeted in for over a year.  Conrad, making a stab at translation, reckons this is "How little has changed".  Am I clever or what?***
     There is also a small anecdote about the location "Stinking Farm".  Given that we are talking about the Western Front, replete with dead bodies, gas and explosive fumes, there must have been something quite appalling there - Falls informs that it was a cellarful of rotting potatoes, abandoned by the farmer and left to fester.  The Royal Engineers cleared out the noisome crop, probably wearing respirators, too.  The name stuck after the air was cleared.

There it is, under the "N" in "NZ"

And we have arrived at limit!  Don't worry, there's enough scrivel to go around tomorrow for everyone.

* Yes it IS.
** This did include Hot Cross Buns but they'll all be gone by tomorrow, heh!
*** Answer: Yes.