I Blog Of Dog

Not Just Of Dog
Although I have had one stern warning today that strongly hints if there is not news of Edna then there will be trouble in the world.  My world.
     Of course, this would not be BOOJUM! if we didn't go off on a tangent immediately, so allow me to mention the Voyager 1 spacecraft.  Art?  Picture, please.

Voyager 1

     It's now 5 years since this baby entered interstellar space - 38 light-hours distant now - and it's still sending back information.  Not bad for a probe launched in 1977.  I mention Voyager because at the moment it's all Cassini-Cassini-Cassini, and we could do with a bit of balance.

Wonder Wifey's Other Babies
You may be dimly aware of a certain unease in the air - oh, hang on, those are the lyrics to "Dogs", aren't they?  Sorry about that.  What I meant -

Edna, perhaps not quite sensing unease

     - what I meant, if the dogs will bow out for a second, is that Wonder Wifey exhibits a certain sneaky ability with growing things.  Amongst these are a batch of tomato plants; Conrad unsure if "batch" is the correct botanical term and doesn't really care, as they remain tomato plants.  Art?

     These reside behind a protective curtain, as otherwise our cat is likely to gnaw on the bamboo skewers holding the plants up.  I know, I know, what skewers?  They aren't visible any longer.  I'm still keeping that curtain in place, for if Jenny did get amongst the plants and cause damage, then there would indeed be trouble in the world.  My world.

Ednews
If Edna Wunderhund did take over the world - and if she does then she learned everything from me - then her first edict would be to destroy all laptops.

     - excuse me, there has been a muted hooning in the background yesterday and today, and I only discovered that it was cows earlier today, even if they do sound like croupy fog horns* -

     Here is the evidence to prove same.  Art?

Life in FOB Nimrod

     As you can see, the hated and detested laptop is on the ground, and Edna smoothly moved in to occupy the Human-Shaped Cushion's lap once it was free.
     I can't add in any of today's later photographs, so here's one from yesterday when she realised that treats don't grow in meadows, but are instead to be found in Upright Human-Shaped Cushion's pockets.

Yes, it's cupboard love, but it's still love.

     This afternoon we went for a trot up by Darling Daughter's old primary school, Thornham St. James, and you might even get more photographs as evidence.

     Just got to go turn the oven off.  That Raving Offal Bisque must not burn!

In A Polish Pickle
When I say "Polish" I mean the people of the nation of Poland - a moment's respectful silence for the flyboys of 303 Squadron RAF ta very much - and not the verb meaning to render an item shiny and clean**.
     Take a gander at what I picked up on the Friday shop in the Polish section at Morrisons.  The Polish food section, not the bit where they stock Mister Sheen and J Cloths.

     Now, the sharp-eyed amongst you will already have noticed that the upper part of the label is in English - yes, widely-spoken in Poland yet not their mother tongue - and there is a modernised Arbic script at bottom.
     Because, as the label informs, these are Moroccan preserves.  
     FYI, yes, it is possible to eat these straight from the jar.  The pickling in brine process removes a fair amount of the bitterness, although you'd not care to eat many of them.  Says the man who loves lime pickle.

Damn it!  No, that's not my mobile phone working on "Vibrate", it's those cows again, lowing in the distance.  Note to Edna; when you take over the world, breed cows that are silent, that they may not disconcert us bloggers.

Finally
Because we need a short article to get up to count, I would like to post something that proves 1) Conrad is relatively sane compared to some out there and 2) Some people have entirely too much time on their mind.


     From the sublimely demented "Jim'll Paint It" website, this is his take on a request for a desperate, damaged and down-at-heel Sonic, pawning his last gold ring for a bottle of whisky, weeping over his lost love.
     Sic transit gloria mundi, eh folks?
     And the weblink so that Jim doesn't sic a ton of lawyers on me -

http://jimllpaintit.tumblr.com/

    That's all folks.  Until something equally unhealthy pops up in my mind.



*  Do you see what - O you do.
**  Shiny and clean?  Get out of here!