Today I Was Out Of My Comfort Zone

In A Manner Of Speaking
As I had ventured over the Inner Border, and moved beyond Lancashire into <whispery tone> Yorkshire.  The vicinity of Storrs, to be precise, where my mate Richard lives in a converted chapel.  I shan't intrude into his privacy by posting a photo of his home, but here's a shot I took from the car whilst parked in a layby for 5 minutes (I was a tad early).  Art?

Countryside

     Plus, I scared a hare out of the roadside and saw a pheasant boldly walking alongside whatever B-road I drove upon.  Fortunately the weather has been mild and the "Flood" and "Ice" warning signs by the grass kerb were redundant, which is good, as the AA would have one dickens of a time finding you to offer a tow.
     I had come to play one of Richard's wargames that he puts on at this time of year, and was able to attend as the Murder Mobile has been sold for scrap, meaning our current car is a Ford Ferocious that can climb hills and descend valleys and not implode internally.
     Okay, onto the wargame - you can skip this bit if you want to BUT I WILL KNOW*.  Art?

     This is the charming Dorset village of Fearnly-Whittingstall, the sea just visible to port.  It has become known to the Teutons that a secret weapon is about to be tested here, observed by the boffins who built it.  They plan to seize both weapon and boffins, and any papers that might be to hand as well - 
     This much is known to both sides.  However, the British don't know how the Teutons plan to attack, and the Teutons don't know where the boffins are, nor what forces await them.  The stage is set!
     I shan't say anything more as Richard will probably want to post his own pictures and blow-by-blow account on his own blog.  But, rest assured, gentle readers, we will be coming back to this topic.

The Dorsetshire Home Guards, valiant gents one and all.
(Note camouflage on their transport)

     Here I must thank Richard and Stella for being such gracious hosts, Richard even plying us with a chilli and baked potatoes.  Your Humble Scribe could only gaze longingly at the Christmas cake on offer ...
     Conrad did not set back for home until 16:30, which is why you are only getting the one post today.  You can't complain - it's not as if any of you pay for this, is it?
      Motley, do you fancy a bit of bayonet practice?  Bayonets made of rubber, honestly.  No, no - that real one must have gotten in by mistake last time.

It's entirely possible that this is all rubber**.

Let Us Do Something Christmassy Instead Of All Blood And Thunder
I say, steady on!  There's always some time for blood and thunder, especially after the evening bucket of gin has gone down.
     What I meant was "What did Conrad get for Christmas?"
     The answer to that has already been posted - that haul of books from Church Street Books. More traditionally, we have -

Part One

Part Two

     So, a general theme of sharks, which Conrad is highly delighted with (Sharks are still our friends!) and that squishy-looking bag with shark-fodder penguins on it is a collapsible lunch-bag, which I have already trialled.  It holds a deceptive amount when full and collapses into a compact and easily-carried pouch when empty.
     Okay, Blut Und Donner may now make a return.

Cultural Diamorphic Solipsistic Bucolicism
I just put that there because, when I word-count this on Word Counter, it will up the Intellectual Level <hopefully> because it sounds clever.
     In reality, I was just pointing out that Stephen King, in writing "The Stand", makes use of South Canadian pop culture references that mean little or nothing to an audience here in the Allotment of Eden.  Who, for example, is (or was, this is a novel from the Eighties) Jack Van Impe?  
     I shall now do what I didn't with the novel, as I was too interested to break off and go Google.  Art?

A televangelist.
(With a Scarlet Lady!)

     One of them, eh?  I did kind of guess that based on context.  Good to know for certain.
     Then there are a brand of sweet SK names "Chocolate Payday"s.  Your Humble Scribe is pretty certain he'd never heard of these before.  A quick Google-fu reveals that there was indeed a Chocolate Payday.  Art?

Hmmmmmm.
(The diabetic is not tempted)

     A collection of nuts in nougat with a chocolate coating.  I shall forbear repeating some of the comments on the Stephen King Message Blog about perceived views of the Chocolate Payday, as they are NSFW.  You can Google it yourself if you feel deprived.
     I did ask our resident ex-South Canadian and pop culture expert Degsy a question about a retailer mentioned in the text that implied you, the reader, knew automatically what "Robert Hall" meant in terms of said business.
     "Nope," he replied.  "It might be a regional thing."
     Therein lies the rub.  Us folks in the Allotment of Eden are used to a comparatively small population base in a relatively compact island nation, whereas South Canada is freaking huge in terms of geography and people.  
     I think we might come back to this topic, it has legs.

ART!

    
Conrad Is Hopeful
I have just had a quick peruse of the BBC website, and pride of place goes to a sports story about the ballfoot game, and how Aquero has somehow scored or not scored a goal, thanks to VAR, which means Manchester The United/The City (I forget which one) are now in the lead.
     I'm not quite sure who this " V.A.R." person is, thought they seem to be wonderfully controversial, and if there is a "Have Your Say" on this game, the venomously verbose verbiage thus generated ought to be hilarious to read***!

Industrial biscuit baker

     And here is one of RBS's baking plant machines, which admittedly has nothing to do with the ballfoot game, but which produces an infinitely more edible result.

    Chin chin!



*  And O my! will there be repercussions.
**  Or not.
*** You can't criticise me, I have already admitted I'm a terrible person.