Twelve O’Clock High Tea

With  A Nice Pot Of Assam

Not quite tea  per se, but still with that theme.  Apparently, South Canadians with pretensions of either grandeur or sophistication make a point of drinking tea rather than coffee, which is surely a sign that civilisation triumphs eventually.  All we need then is for them to acknowledge their mistake and re-join the Commonwealth.  Oh, and switch to driving on the proper side of the road.

IT WILL HAPPEN!

     Gosh, BOOJUM! got political, so sue me.  It’s not as if you pay to read this scrivel, is it?  No.  So don’t complain.

     Okay, this is a very short Intro.  I can do that if I want to – once again, whose blog is it?

“The Somme” By Richard Van Emden

Yes!  Another in my collection of military history tomes, and probably about the sixth or seventh to do with the Somme campaign.  This one is a bit different from the usual flood of centenary cash-ins, as it details personal recollections in letters written by the officers and other ranks at the time.

     “What’s this?” I pondered, reading about Lieutenant of the 16^th Manchester Regiment, who mentions another officer by surname – Elstob.  It’s not a common name, and it most probably applies to Wilfrith Elstob, who ended up in temporary command of the Manchesters when the Teuton’s “Kaiserschlacht” broke upon the Manchester Redoubt.  He won a posthumous VC for his actions on 21^st March, where he was in fact a pillar of the defence; when he was killed the defence crumbled and the redoubt was over-run.

     What is different about this work is the use of photographs taken (illegally!) by the contributors, which tend to be unposed and of transient situations.  Novel, certainly by comparison with the usual IWM stuff that gets trotted out.

The Manchesters  spreading the gospel of peace and friendship (it says here ...)

“Litotes”

This was actually a Cryptic Crossword answer, from a clue that included “understatement”.  Personally I think I was pretty clever in getting that one, it’s not a term used much in everday life.  Although, come to think about it, BOOJUM! is pretty much litotes made concrete.  After all, I apologise for being almost Continentally excessive if using more than one exclamation mark.

“Schadenfreude”

Which is a compact Teutonic way to say “Point and laugh” or, more formally, “malicious enjoyment of other people’s misfortune”. 

     I know, I know, I’m a terrible person.  You see, this morning I tried to catch the slightly earlier 181, only to find that it had departed Royton early. 

     “Oh, I say, bad luck old chap,” I hear you respond.  Pausing only to look at you with narrowed eyes in case that was sarcasm, I shall continue.

     About ten minutes into the 24’s journey, why, what do we encounter but the 181.

     Broken down.

     So!  All it’s passengers debouched onto the 24, rendering it packed.  Then we picked up all the passengers that would have caught it, and more besides – a previous service hadn’t bothered turning up.  Even more packed.  Sardines, we feel your pain.

     By the time we get to Dean Lane, the driver wasn’t stopping to let anyone on, so Conrad amused himself – I did admit being a terrible person – by looking at the abandoned passengers standing with looks of disbelief and annoyance as their ride goes ride on by.

     Schadenfreude.

Really.  Terrible.

Shakespoke

Ha, take that, Shakespeare!  Or Billy Barf, as I like to call him (I’ve already admitted being a terrible person).  That genuine man of letters Thomas Pynchon once wrote of a band called Billy Barf and the Vomitones, which would put Windbag Willy in pretty apt company.

     As you may have gathered, I dislike Shakespeare.  A LOT.  Here is the metaphorical fruit of my dog-walking last night.  If you were out on Tandle Hill Road last night, and you encountered a large man with a small dog, please don’t be alarmed by his ferocious visage and evil-sounding mutters – my face is naturally like that.

“Out, damned Spot!”

That dog has got

Where it should not.

(The casserole pot).

     In case you were wondering, the dog has stuck it’s inquisitive nose into the casserole pot, because that’s what dogs do – at no point was the chef ever trying to cook it.  I may be a terrible person, but even I have limits.

“Lay on, MacDuff”

And expect rebuff.

You won’t scuff

My armour gruff.

     Yes indeed.  That armour’s tough old stuff. 

     I do have a couple of quatrains on “Something wicked this way comes”, but one of them is both startlingly political and current affairs-y, and besides we’re at count.

Armour propre

Pip pip!