TaTa

No!  Get It Right -
 - this is nothing at all to do with the manufacture of steel or Indian multinational corporations.  I've already explained, twice, that the blog does not touch the horrid prospects of either Politics or Current Affairs.
     "But Conrad!" I hear you say, "Isn't that a -"

I'm sticking this in to see if it turns up as the default picture on Facebook
It's a C96 Broomhandle Mauser pistol, FYI

     Let me cut you off right there.  Yes, it is simply a coincidence that I've chosen today to examine English idiomatic syntax*, and is nothing whatsoever to try and trick passers-by into looking at BOOJUM! because they think it's contemporary and relevant.
     So.  " Ta Ta" is an expression in English vernacular*, meaning "Goodbye", pronounced "Ta Tah", or "Tah Tah" if you want the Received English pronuciation**.  Where does it come from?  Who knows, Wiki certainly doesn't and that's as far as I care to go in researching it.  There is a Northern variation, "Tara", pronounced "Ta Rah", not to be confused with one of the ancient kings of Ireland I believe.  Since that borders on all three of the Taboo Subjects, we'll end that particular speculation right there.
     Confusingly, there is also another bit of English vernacular - "Ta".  This means "Thank you", and once again it's origin is uncertain.  So don't go using this expression more than once or you might offend your host.

Tar.  Close enough

     Coincidentally, "Ta" is also the chemical symbol for the element Tantalum, which name is derived from the name "Tantalus", who was featured on the blog this week as "Us Bad Boys".
     Having either illuminated your intellect or puzzled you fearfully, I shall now proceed with the rest of today's scrivel.

Breakfast Of Champions!
The traditional way for Conrad to begin his day:

Crumpets, hot cross buns and ice cream

     Al the carbohydrates, sugars and fats you could ask for on a plate.  Don't worry, the protein comes later in the afternoon.  I put the cat outside whilst I ate this as she inevitably comes to see what's being eaten, trying to get closer and closer to the food.  "Just a little bit closer to the bacon," as my Darling Daughter used to classify this sneaky process.  This in fact leads on to my next photo-essay -

Conrad Versus Cat
I have found that, when I sit down to read and make notes, Jenny inevitably comes over to nosey, if there is food present (see above) and to get as close as possible to your humble scribe.  If she can shove her bum in my face then she deems her day to be complete and purrs loudly.  One of her predilictions is to fight with any stray pens lying around, until they fall off the table onto the floor, at which point she considers her job done and ignores them.  Art?

Somewhat obscure -

     - I apologise for not getting a better angle.  Here Jenny is fighting with my pen whilst I am writing with it.  You can't get much cheekier than that.  Or can you?

Maybe you can!

     Here she has plonked herself down on my arm, purring like a boiler, forcing me to contort to read my book.  She's happy.

     I then made a cunning tactical manouevre and swapped chairs, moving to the one opposite.  Jenny, not daunted at all, matched me in seat-swapping.  Art?

Happy catty on human lappy

     If she would only stay put I could cope, except she likes to get up and impose herself on my books or notes.  So I swapped seats again -

"Bummer!  Warm cushiony object has moved!"

     And what do you know, it was too warm and sunny there for her to be bothered moving.
     I think we can call that a score-draw:  Conrad 1     Jenny 1

Day Three Of Being Sober
Perhaps "Day Three Of Drinking Copious Amounts Of Tea And Lemonade" is closer to the mark.  Not missing Old Speckled Hen very much, thank you for asking.  Liver is cautiously optimistic, as long as the tea and lemonade don't reach epic proportions; Kidneys are still complaining at having to work just as hard processing a liquid intake amounting to litres per day, but then they've always been whiney, skrikey organs.   I hope you noticed the giant Darth Maul mug of tea in breakfast photo.

Conrad:  sober or sociopath?
Only you can tell!

     Carol at work said she was going to go dry for April, so we can encourage each other over the sober wastelands until 6 p.m. on the 30th.  Yes I chose a shorter month, I may be a long way from sensible; daft I ain't.



* Slang <translation into English courtesy Mister Hand>
** Posh <translation into English courtesy Mister Hand>