A New Map Of What The Hell?

I Apologise For Nearly Swearing
But only a bit, because I'm horrid that way.  Normally I would state "What on earth" except that wouldn't match with the posts from Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday and the " - Hell" title they have.
     That explains the what.  


       Conrad's parents: this also explains a lot.

     As for the why - that takes a bit more explanation, in two ways.  First of all, let us have a picture of a Churchill AVRE.  Art?

Armoured Vehicle Royal Engineers

     Phew! Now that's out of the way, the explanation.  Art?

     Yes, the Brittania Coconut  Dancers are back on the agenda.  And a bus, too.  You may remember this bizarre dance troupe from a much earlier post- can I be bothered to dig it out and post the link?
     Yes!  Yes I can.  Here it is.

http://comsatangel2002.blogspot.co.uk/2016/12/avro.html

     More than you could ever want to know about the sons of Bacup, and - oho, what's all this - well, more of that later - quite the last thing your humble scribe expected to see on a bus.
     That was WTH moment Number 1.  Number 2 came whilst I was reading Mr. Edgerton's entertainingly iconoclastic "Britain's War Machine", and Chapter 7 thereof.  This details the planning, organisation, construction, cost and other details of the Allotment's war-manufacturing during the Second Unpleasantness, including propaganda.
     This is where Ruby comes in.  Apparently, photography of industrial machinery and the workers who operated them was ineffective at getting the visceral impact of same across to the public, so artists painted them instead, and here we have an iconic painting.  Art?

The lady and her lathe

     Now, this is entitled "Ruby Loftus Screwing A Breech Ring" and from - CUT THAT SNIGGERING OUT AT THE BACK! - as I was saying, this appears to be part of the breech mechanism for a large artillery piece, perhaps a 5.5" gun.  A less - er - evocative title could have been selected, one suspects, except then we wouldn't have the second WTH moment, would we?

A Brief Digression About Beans
Counting them, that is.  In November 2016 BOOJUM!'s traffic suddenly shot up to many times what it had been for no readily apparent reason.  Whereas before the month of Nov getting 50 hits a day was common, during and after these jumped to 500 or more.  Art?

An example

     Conrad was always suspicious about this jump in stats, and over the past few weeks the number of beans has declined to a more reasonable figure - although no reason why springs to mind.  Today we are at 79 and I confidently predict this will hit 80 by close of business.

Art
No, I do not refer to the proto-human cellar-dweller who loves to lie in the septic sump, and who supplied the blog's artwork.  I mean the real thing.  More from that premiere at Manchester Metropolitan University.

Setting the mise en scene

     You can get an idea of how busy the place was from this shot; as mentioned, it was all proud parents beaming over their offspring's products, smiling outwardly yet wondering how they could ever make a career out of a large rock?

I'm making light of it, aren't I?

     Here's one commercial solution: bespoke lights and lighting.  You'd pay handsomely for this, wouldn't you? (silently pleaded Mum and Dad).

Posters

     No idea what these were supposed to be, but I took the photo so you're going to get to see it, like it or no.

The Utter Treachery Of Allotment Weather
If you live in the Allotment then you need no introduction to how fickle and changeable the weather is here.  So far our British Summer has consisted of 5 days spread out over the past 3 weeks, and it's not expected to improve.  Art?

     From this evidentiary photo you can indeed tell that the sun is shining, because there are shadows to be seen.  However, take a look at the skies, and notice those rain-laden clouds simply itching to unburden themselves.  I am sitting in my Sekrit Layr with the light on, because a whole load of sinister-looking cirrus has rolled in to block out the sunlight.

Finally - 
We need a short article to reach count, so here it is.  Conrad has noticed that there was a sporting event in the Antipodes - rugby, was it? - played against the Ockers and the Polite Australians*.  Conrad - going off at a tangent to the tangent - wonders how somewhere that is so quintessentially British (New Zealand) gets by with a Dutch name?
     Anyway, the British ballhandfoot team went by the name of "British Lions".  Since this species of animal is not native to the UK, and in fact does sweet beggar all but sit around roaring and waiting for the lionesses to provide dinner, and since you can't either eat it or milk it or harness it to a cart, I think we should drop it as a national mascot and emblem**.

And replace it with the mighty and noble WEASEL!


*  The Australians and the New Zealanders
**  Well, you could try to eat it, but expect the experience not to end well.