Still Thinking Pink

And Still Nothing To Do With Syd Barrett Or Roger Waters
Pink Floyd, for the uninformed out there (I believe there are some).
     We return to the Pink Panther again, except these particular specimens thrive on diesel not antelope, they can kill at a distance and they are entirely no laughing matter.  If that sluggardly dolt Art can be tempted out of the coal cellar - 

Et voila

     Shots of these things in action are almost impossible to find, because they were used by the SAS's Mobility Troop, who do not like being photographed very much, at all, and who don't pass along what photos they take themselves.  So you'll have to make do with that above.
     Because of camouflage, is why, before you ask about the colour.  Pink is an extremely effective camo scheme in the desert, which is where the SAS MT were operating, and I can't tell you where without having to vanish you.  "The Desert"; that's all you need to know.  As you see, the Pink Panther bristles with visible weapons and more hidden away: anti-tank rockets, guided missiles, mines and mortars.  Not to be taken lightly!

PP wisely decides not to sue.
As he does not want to mysteriously vanish.

     Goodness!  It has rolled around to my bedtime - yes, I have started writing this blog last thing in the evening, since it means I need do less tomorrow, which will be today by the time you read it - and your humble scribe really needs his beauty sleep.*
     There's not even time to torture the motley.  Enjoy your reprieve, motley.

About That Cave Rescue -
As you should surely know by now, Conrad is both a huge coward and fairly huge of frame, too: he does not fit in the bath, for example.  Thus, one sport he would never consider undertaking, if by "sport" you mean "hideous constricted prolonged tornment", is caving.  There is a variant on this, going by the title of "even more hideous constricted prolonged torment", a.k.a. cave diving.  Diving into a cave system entirely flooded and in perpetual darkness? No thank you!
   So it was with a sense of utter horror that I read the BBC's infographics on the outlay of that Thai cave system.  Art?

You have got to be KIDDING!

     So, to carry out the rescue, divers had to traverse nearly a mile of tunnel completely submerged in water.  Cold, dirty water at that.  One particular illustration had your cowardly cave-averse Conrad squeaking in terror.  Art?

A gap of 40 CENTIMETRES!
(sits down as knees go weak)

     Check it out - a gap so narrow you can't get through with air tanks, and have to remove them to squeeze through.
     NO!  Just, no.  There was a sidebar article on the page about "How to survive underground" and Conrad's advice is most eminently sensible:  DON'T GO UNDERGROUND IN THE FIRST PLACE!

 - or you might get into a -

Thank You For The Heads-Up
A considerable time ago, Darling Daughter mentioned in passing - social media, I think - that she was consuming a brew called "Plum Porter" and was enthusiastic about how nice it was.  This was perhaps before Christmas 2017, so quite a while back; however, your humble scribe's memory is nothing if not retentive about certain subjects, such as beer, how toxic phosphorous pentachloride is,** and the ingredients needed for a good chocolate brownie.
     So!  When I encountered the following in Morrison's for the first time, I bought a couple of bottles and - it is very nice indeed.

     I impressed Pub Quiz partners Phil and Rosie with this proof, as it turned out they'd visited the St. Peter's brewery only a couple of months ago.
     (Not that I was looking for this in bottled form: it's a habit of mine to see if I can find bottled beer with names that provide food for puns).

Righto!  That's work out of the way, so I am going to take a constitutional stroll into Royton and complete the blog when I return.  Just so you know I'm looking after myself (in case you were worried).

A Guide To Perfidious Albion's Countryside

OR

Why Nether Wallop Is A Big Hit

It goes without saying that a country which is a palimpsest of cultures has many oddly-named towns and villages, some of which even the locals find strange.  We touched briefly on why Saffron Walden is so-named, but what about Nether Wallop?  Art?

Not a clout in sight

     The name derives from Anglo-Saxon, it seems: "Waella" and "Hop", which mean "Vally of the springs".  So, nothing to do with cricket.  The "Nether" part comes because it is the third (and hence most inferior) of three villages, the other two being Over Wallop and Middle Wallop - I'm not making this up, honest! - which really do sound like fielding positions in cricket.
     That thing about being a big hit?  Well, Ol' Nether is regularly denoted as the prettiest village in England.  It was also the location for Miss Marple's house in the BBC series and has thus been seen by probably 35% of the world's population.  Art?

The lady's demesne

     Especially the middle-aged; it is a law that, with middle-age, comes an interest in English country house murder mysteries.  Even Tsar Putin is rumoured to keep a few editions of Dorothy L. Sayers in his safe - purely to understand how terrible life is in the hinterlands of hell that are outside his borders, you understand - not for enjoyment O no! never for that ...

Well, having gone waaaay over count I think it's about time to stop cooking this turkey and hurl it at the waiting masses.  Duck, masses***
*  About 23 hours should do it <the horrid truth courtesy Mister Hand>
**  Twenty parts per million.
***  Do you see what - O you do.