When The Levee Doesn't Break

No! Nothing About The French Revolution 
Nor the introduction of the levee en masse.  I refer to the opposite of that Led Zeppelin classic, "When the Levee Breaks", which is a bit of a mournful and negative take on things, as levees in the sense of waterwork dykes are built not to fail.

Close enough

     Here an aside.  I have been reading a book about the evolution of night fighters - aircraft whose purpose was to fly in darkness and tackle enemy bombers, not about people getting rowdy after the pubs empty - and the zeppelin crews raiding Perfidious Albion were on a hiding to nothing.  The zeppelin, you see, was lighter than air thanks to the use of vast bags of hydrogen.  Highly inflammable hydrogen.  Hydrogen that was, frankly, just desperate to ignite or explode, and which the incendiary machine gun bullets of the Royal Flying Corps were glad to help along.  Because these things operated at considerable height, if they caught fire they couldn't get down to earth in time for the crew to escape.

A sobering thought

     Anyway, back to levees.  These are associated with the south of South Canada, constructed alongside major waterways that are prone to flooding.  Art?

A levee not breaking

     I suppose a levee doing it's job lacks drama.  A blues song that has lyrics along the lines of "Woke up this morning and there wasn't a flood; because those civil engineers built the levee so good" pretty much ends there.  There are some interesting pictures around of home-made levees for homes threatened by floodwater that Art can dig up - Art!

Not a Photoshop

     This is a household taking dramatic steps to preserve their property from the Yazoo River, the Yazoo being rather a yahoo when in flood.  One wonders 1) where all that soil came from and 2) how they got it in place.
     Okay, time to go see how those chicken goujons are doing - but first, we must send the motley down the stairs backwards on it's belly!*

Wonder Wifey won't believe this, but I binned the Chicken Kiev as it definitely tasted wrong, which means it was probably more botulinus-in-a-pack than chicken.

I knew you expected me to put a rotting chicken carcase here - so Ha! Fooled you!

My Beautiful Bottom
Now, now, beauty is in the butt of the beholder.  My behind must be either unavoidably tasty or eye-catching, because once again the Coincidence Hydra has it's teeth fastened there.
     You recall a couple of weeks ago I got a whole book of Codeword puzzles?  Okay, we'll come back to that.  You also remember that yesterday I was harping on about the Cavy, which is a species of wild South American guinea pig?  The reasons for this are a bit convoluted, so go and read it.**  Art?

Not that tricky - I have completed it.

     A bit of gloasting there, to be honest.  Anyway, I shall provide you with an enlarged picture of the relevant portion.  Art?

What are the chances of that happening, eh?

     I wish, if the universe had some DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!

<quick, change the subject to allow my heart-rate to settle>

A Nifty Invention
Yesterday I was swigging tea in the kitchen, half-aware of a noise that some kind of construction plant in the road outside The Mansion was making, and spared a glance out of the window at it.
     "How ingenious!" I mused - aloud, because there was nobody else to frighten.  Art?

Also works well against KILLER EELS!

     The operator filled in two potholes in about 10 minutes, and didn't have to shut the road to traffic.  The principle is that he blasts debris out of the hole with compressed air, then sprays a layer of asphalt over the hole, then a layer of gravel  and then seals it.  Job done!  
The West Spring GunI think I've mentioned this in the past, yet it's such a terrifying and deadly weapon that I can't resist a recap.
     When I say 'terrifying and deadly' I refer to the users of said device, rather than the enemy.  Art?

The best illustration extant of this - this - monster

     As you can see, the throwing arm had to be cranked back against the pull of 24 springs, a process which took 3 men.  Nor did this weapon have a proper baseplate; instead it had to be kept still by being weighed-down with sandbags, or it would leap into the air like a mule on electric prune juice.  A wise crew tested it's trajectory with a cricket ball first, because if the grenade it threw hit the trench parapet instead of clearing it ...  Sometimes it would simply drop the live grenade into the trench as it failed to launch properly.

They are coddling the beast, absolutely coddling it!

    It was common for users to lose fingers in the device, as well as get their face bashed in by the errant arm in action.  I don't recall the Teutons ever mentioning this weapon, and it was dropped like a hot coal once the Stokes Gun arrived.***
   
Finally - 
Because I like to plan ahead and have something suitably daft, rhyming or both when pimping BOOJUM! on Facebook, I would like to put up a picture of a yashmak.  Art?

There you go

     - and just to finish off, here's Molly the Dancing Yak - Art?

Definitely got her happy hooves on

     And with that, and having also hit 1,000 words, we are done.  DONE!

*  I used to do this for fun when I was young.  I was peculiar even then.
**  This will count for you when my invasion fleet arrives in orbit
*** It looks like it could bowl a pretty mean Mangosteen, though, don't you think?