A Plutonium Encomium

I Know What You're Thinking
"Why, in a nation established by revolution against a reigning monarchy, do they name a fast food product after said sovereign?

Enquiring minds want to know!

     Of course you can expect some swivel-eyed consipiranoid loonwaffle to come crawling out of the woodwork, claiming that the American Revolution was faked and in fact the Reptiloid/Shapeshifter/Alien Grey Queen of England still rules South Canada.*  I'm not going to bother Googling that theory, because there is nothing so insane that someone out there won't believe it.
     Oh, "Encomium"?  Is that what you were wondering?  It means 'to praise highly'.  Perhaps I should have used 'caution you extensively about the Devil's Own Ore', but that's difficult to fit into a headline.
     
     Quickly!  Set up a bird-scarer on the nearest lamp-post - this will decoy the zombies away from your house and allow you ingress and egress in a tolerable fashion.  Art?

<sigh>  No, Art, no!

     Okay, back to Plutonium.  Named after the god of the Underworld and the planet (as it was considered then), not that dog.  If you have any Pu94 to hand, lucky you!  Do look after it carefully, because it is not stuff to muck around with.  Art?

Your time is up, Mister Slotin

     Here is one dauntless chap about to kill himself accidentally, for the full details of which please the following:

https://comsatangel2002.blogspot.co.uk/2018/04/squash-stuffed-with-meat-and-groats.html

     Not only is Pu94 dangerously radioactive, it is also extremely toxic, in the order of as dangerous as nerve gas if inhaled in powder form.   Nor is that all.  Oh no!  For it has a voracious appetite for water, and will expand enormously if allowed to soak up the H2O.  This means it can split open containers and burst forth like an uninvited guest at your wedding.

What?  Is this supposed to deter gatecrashers at - Oh I see.  For zombies.  Right

     If it does expand thus, it will shed fragments of Plutonium Hydrides, like a demon dog (don't mention that Disney iteration!) debriding deadly dendrites, because these oxides are pyrophoric - that is, they spontaneously combust.  
     At this point you probably wish you'd stuck to collecting coins.
     Just for a change, let's sit the motley down and give it a nice fish and chip supper, and then begin -

Which Leads To -
Take a look at the MV 'Pacific Egret', which at first glance appears to be a humble if up to date freight vessel.  Art?

A life on the ocean wave, eh?

     The thing is, this is one of a small fleet of vessels operated by Perfidious Albion for transporting plutonium.  She has all sorts of precautionary hardware built into her to prevent any of the Devil's Dust escaping, and she has a bit of a sting in her stern.  Art?

Surprise!

     Yes, those are guns.  The shipping line rather coyly hints that there are other 'defence systems' not readily visible, which implies that part of the hull will open up a la Gerry Anderson, to disgorge swarms of missiles and jump jets.*  One further supposes that each vessel's itinerary is well known to various governments, and if the captain so much as hiccups over the radio, the air above will immediately filled with inquisitive jet bombers.
     Intriguing stuff, hmmm?

And Today -
The weather in the Pond of Eden has been predictable for Spring:  wet.  One nice day is about all we'll get until our laughably-termed 'summer', which will be about one week long.  Yesterday Edna and I only got one walk in, because the rain came wazzing down from mid-day onwards.  We did manage a morning constitutional, and here is the evidence, for Wonder Wifey if no-one else.  Art?

     Because there was another dog in the far distance, for once the Wunderhund didn't stop to sniff at every patch of grass, lamp-post or tree trunk along our route, and instead powered along to try and say hello.  Sorry, Edna, too slow!

Finally -
Here's something I whipped up last night, "Mixed Nut Slices" from the Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook.  Art?

     Rather fiddly to make, because it requires a sweet pastry dough rolled out to 9" by 13", and since the dough is in a lump the size of both my fists, it needed a touch of finesse - as the rolling pin was too big to fit in the baking tin, Conrad had to use a tin of beer instead.
     It's also very sticky, so it is residing in the fridge at present, until I can take it into work and unload it on my hapless colleagues.  Tee hee!


*  It would be nice if it were true, though.