How Very - Un-British

As You Should Surely Know By Now -
Conrad loves to extol the virtues of the Allotment of Eden, which are self-evident but which can always do with a bit of promotion, as we Brits are usually too modest to inform the world how lucky they are to have us.
     Well now, you may be wondering what this madcap scamp is on about now -
     The weather.  It has been bright, sunny and warm today, which do not often occur at the same time in the Allotment, so your modest artisan was out in the back yard stocking up on Vitamin D.  Art can provide the evidence.  Art?

     Here we are, sunshine, evidenced by there being shadows at noon.  Plus a dog utilising Conrad in his other capacity (the first being camouflaged alien spy) as Human-Shaped Cushion.  Now, this probably wouldn't mean anything to anyone else, but having this kind of scorcher in early April is either proof of global warming or aliens mucking about with the North Atlantic Oscillation*.
     As I said, very un-British.

So, Too, Is This
No!  Not aliens.  Being un-British.  I bought a copy of "The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare" on Friday from Bookbuyers - the stall on Church Street Market opposite the Arndale and the Co-Op, and I ought to be on first-name terms with the owner as I've bought so many books from there - 

There you go, Bookbuyers

     I realise you were probably expecting a picture of the book in dust jacket (for it was a hardback) well that's what you get for taking things for granted round here.

Ha!  Take that!

     Instead have a picture of the world's first electric toaster.  That'll teach you.
     Back on track and TMOUW.  There is a perception across the world, which to be honest is fairly accurate for the most part, that the British follow the rules of the game.  Especially cricket, a game so complicated that you need to attend university to play it, let alone understand it.  The ethos behind all British sports is that it's not whether you won or lost, it's how you played the game.  Obviously this doesn't apply to the upper echelons of football, which is simply about £££ and so which disqualifies itself**.
     For the most part.
     Once it comes to warfare, however, the gloves are off and we become Perfidious Albion, a country brimming with inventive malice and incredible mischief, willing and able to break every rule in the book, and indeed to chuck the book on a bonfire.  Hence TMOUW.

Oh go on then.  The book.

     The cover photo is of HMS Cambeltown, a destroyer used to ram the St. Nazaire dry dock, the only facility capable of servicing the Teuton battleship Tirpitz.  Size matters, you see; Perfidious Albion reasoned that if this dock were destroyed then the Tirpitz would remain bottled-up in Norway.
     Now, being Perfidious, the plan was not simply to ram the dock and leave several thousand tons of knackered destroyer blocking it.  Oh no.  The second part of the plan was only made evident later the next morning - by accident not design, claimed Perfidious - when 10,000 pounds of explosive hidden behind a giant concrete bulkhead in the Campbeltown exploded.

Some Tueton tourists in for a very nasty surprise

     By this time the garrison of St. Nazaire were swarming over the battered hulk of old Campy.  There is some dispute how many were sightseeing before the four and a half tons of explosive they were standing on went off, as a bang like this does not leave much behind.
     If you think this is devious, wait until you hear about "Aspidistra" ...

Well, after such vicariously horridness, let us indulge in something a little lighter in tone.
     ATOMIC ZOMBIE DEATH-RACING!
     Only joking***.  

Jellied Eels
Conrad has never had jellied eel before, although he understands it's a delicacy for the Allotment's southern brethren.  I have eaten plain eel before, which much resembled chicken.  Art?

British cuisine at it's finest!

     Thus today was a first.  It was quite nice, but needs to be treated with caution, as the bones were still there.  They need to be treated warily, lest they impact the digestive tract.

<sigh>  No, Art, no.

*  Or was that "The Kraken Wakes"?
**  Football goes away and cries in the corner.
***  Although - potential Olympic sport?