That'll Teach Me

Hubris, Or, The Sin Of Pride
This one will take a bit of background and then a lot of foreground.  The ancient Greeks were well acquainted with hubris, and you can bet that any character in drama who got a touch too big for their boots would have reparation come shrieking in like a heat-seeking Harpy.  Then they'd be sorry.  Roll a rock uphill for eternity, get your liver pecked out every day, be forced to calculate Pi to a billion places, that sort of reparation.
     Anyway, today Conrad went to collect a large oak cabinet that Wonder Wifey had won in an e-bay auction, for the princely sum of £1.20.  Along came Degsy.  After dropping WW off at Darling Daughter's, as there would be room for either her, or the cabinet, but not both, we drove off to Whalley Range.
     During this drive we encountered this car:

Those are some seriously big birds

     Those droppings were so large and firmly bonded that neither rain nor windscreen-wiper could shift them.  It was enough to make one queasy.
     "How fortunate our car is not blighted with an unfortunate cargo like that!" I thought.
     Now, I thought my thoughts were on the quiet side of silent, yet clearly Hermes - Greek god of transport and a long-time foe of mine - overheard, the conniving swine.
     When we arrived at the address in question, the owner stated that the cabinet was "down in the cellar", which is not a good beginning.  The large cellar entrance was, of course, at the back of the large house, and had a long flight of stairs, and the large cabinet stood at the far end of the large cellar.

The cabinet in question

     After being candidly informed that Conrad would drop what he was carrying and run screaming like a little girl if there were spiders on the cabinet, the vendor brushed it clean of cobwebs and dust, after which Degsy and I hauled it slowly and painfully up the  large cellar's steps.  We then had a short rest and I consoled myself with the thought "Well at least that's the hard part over and done with", and again that swine Hermes was listening.

And having a ball, too.

     You see, once we got it out to the Murdermobile, it was an inch too wide to fit in past the door frame.  Once past that, it would indeed have just fitted.  But - the door frame.
     There was simply no way to make it fit into the rear, not by twisting, turning, sliding, greasing or grunting.  If we'd been carrying a black cockerel then a sacrifice to Hermes might have helped, but we only had a brown chicken.
     At this point Conrad would have driven over the cabinet, reducing it to handy fragments easily capable of being fitted in the car, which might have -
     "Let's put it on top!" stated Degsy.  So we did, with some effort.  He then produced a couple of metres of cord and tied it to the Murdermobile's roof-bars.  Art?

There they are, like antennae on a beetle

     Driving sloooowly and carefully we made it back to Darling Daughter's without mishap, and it even fitted into her hallway.  Kind of.

     So.  In future, Conrad, kindly keep your hubristic thoughts to yourself, or at least until you start driving around with a live black cockerel in the boot.

After The Hubris -
 - a little humour.  Art?

A scrawled log upon a sprawled dog

     The Border Terrier: hardy, intelligent and makes a good book-rest.
     (Wonder Wifey rests a laptop upon her without quibble, if you're wondering)

"Crossword"
That's all it said in the notebook.  Clearly I shall have to work hard in order to create content from a single word, and without repeating myself.
     Ah!  I have it - "Hibiscus", the name of a flower.  Art?

Sorry if this looks vaguely rude ...

     The name is derived from the Greek "Ibiskos", meaning "Mallow-like" of another type of plant.  There you go.  Grown for decoration and also used as a flavouring in soft drinks.
     What's that?  Nothing to do with crosswords?
     No it's not.  So what?  And once again, whose blog is it?

Double Cornetto'd
Allow me to set the scene.  Friday morning at work, 10:00 a.m. and Conrad has his ICBM (Ice Cream Breakfast, Multiple) because he's found that chopping the very end off a generic Iceland cornetto means you can fit it into his insulated carry-case, and at a pinch you can get two such adjusted ice creams into it.
     This, it seems, is rather unusual to Beth, an attractive young lady sitting to my right.  Actually she'd still be sitting to my right even if she looked like the Gorgon, I was just trying to be flattering*.  Quick, Art, change the subject -

Imagine this, doubled.

     "I've never seen you like this before, Rob!**" she comments.
     Short pause for Conrad** to preen, until he realises this is a matter of perspective, not stars in eyes, as he is sitting alongside Beth instead of the more usual opposite.  This means she can now see what he gets up to - like putting honey in his coffee, or having ice cream for breakfast***.
     O well.  Flattering delusion pleasant whilst it lasted. 

Good lord aloft!  I did think this post would be a bit light on text, me being late coming home today as I've been off at "Sounds From The Other City", and here we are at getting on for 1,000 words.  Clearly this Hubris thing might be bad for my back, my temper and my sunny disposition, yet it certainly cranks up the (990) word count!

*  I was severely chastised for calling Alison "hot", which I contend was acceptable as she said she was feeling ill - "hot and cold".
** Just go with it, please.
*** One day, people, this will be acceptable and commonplace.  Yes I have a dream.