Kind Of
As you ought to recall, Conrad was harping on about a horribly misunderstood saying about dogs and hay beds earlier this week, Surprise! I have my very own take on this legend, involving our very own small domesticated wolf and a blanket, which you can read as manger-for-humans. Art!
There you are, the little scamp is sitting on the stuff that's waiting to be washed. Bad Edna! Naughty Edna! No biscuit for you! Not that you were getting one anyway, I just like to be seen as laying down the law. O noes I cannot do the laundry, woe betide me, etcetera.
Veering wildly off course and yet staying on track simultaneously*, Conrad was inspired by a scene from the Sork sci-fi drama "Sisyphus: The Myth", where a loyal son makes raymeon noodles for his mum (I think these must be the Korean equivalent of "Ramen" Japanese noodles), and cracks a raw egg into the pot as they cook.
"I say!" I exclaimed, which was okay as I was alone at the time and thus unlikely to scare anyone. "I shall jolly well have to try that." You can tell I read too much Jeeves and Wooster, can't you? Art!
 |
| Ova intacta |
Your Modest Artisan shall henceforth call this "Dog In The Manger Noodles"; I suspect there's a Korean name for it, which I will allow you to track down. Conrad also added a sliced mushroom and the end result was sufficiently different from the usual noodle soup that I'll do that again.
Whilst on the subject of mushrooms, Conrad is a greedy hog when it comes to pickled mushrooms <salivates disgustingly>, which are not stocked at Morrisons <sad face>. Art!
I could easily sit and scoff all these in one sitting, and have done (thank you Manisha!). So, I pondered, how do you make these? It seems that you boil them first, to ensure they're properly cooked, and then leave them in a mix of 1:1 water and vinegar for at least 5 days. So I quartered a box of them yesterday and here's the end result. Art?
 |
| With dill, parsley, bay leaves and garlic cloves |
I do apologise for bringing in that dreadful trope "Look What I Had For Lunch", it's just that I was chuffed at managing two culinary things in one evening.
O and that bookcase behind Edna? Art!
It contains 100 books (I counted) and I need to see if my collectables - Art!
- will fit in there, because that way I don't have to keep covering them with a sheet to keep the destructive daylight** off their delicate covers.
That's quite enough domestic wibble. Bring on the dancing hoses!
Dancing hose. It's doing a reel.
Back To "Escape Room"
SPOILERS AHEAD!
SERIOUSLY.
CONRAD NOT JOKING
You can't say you weren't warned, so let me just say ZOEY DIES AT THE END! Ha, I bet you didn't expect that, did you? O no, hang on, wrong film - sorry, I meant JOHN DIES AT THE END! Art?
Okay, back on track. So, last we knew Zoey was indeed kaput, whilst Ben had managed to win a fight with Jason whilst both were tripping out of their heads on a hallucinogen, during which he injured his leg. He then descends via a hatchway - actually he falls on his bottom from ten feet up, into a room with a puzzle on the door that needs to be solved for him to escape. To make sure he tries really really hard, the room's far wall begins to move forward, crushing everything in it's way. Art!
No clearer image possible, sorry
Whatever engine is powering this crushing wall is immensely powerful, because it reduces everything to splinters as Ben fails to solve the puzzle in time. Conrad, being the sneaking coward that he is, would have hoiked the coals out of the fireplace and sat in there, which is what Ben resorts to. Seconds later, after he would have been crushed were it not for the fireplace, the door unlocks and he lurches out.
Bear in mind that everything in that room bar the inside of the fireplace has been reduced to matchwood, so to re-set it a whole bunch of minions will need to empty the mountain of wreckage first.
SPOILERY BIT HERE!
Of course - obviously! - Zoey survived, and she rescues Ben from strangulation as the pair of them flee and report to the police. When -
But that is an instalment for a later date. Conrad hopes you've been keeping notes on the film so far.
Some Home-Grown Horror For You
Yes! More word-count boosting thrilling "Tormentor" for you, and O boy is Luma in for a shock.
There
it was again, that movement over in a corner of the cemetery. From Jen’s reaction to his silver bracelet,
all aggrieved sulking and haughty disdain, he doubted that she’d come
here. If he remembered the orientation
correctly then that corner was where he
saw the activity during the funeral.
Ought he to go and check it out?
Well, this was a cemetery, you
could traditionally expect spirits to hang around here. A normal mourner would hardly remain in the
same part of the cemetery for four days.
It must be a spirit. Why not go
and have a look?
The far corner lay under
neglected tarmac paths with ferns growing at the edges, under dismal pine trees
that muffled sounds. The graves were
tended in a barely-sufficient manner, and lay unadorned with the sprays of
flowers that brightened up other parts of the cemetery.
Louis lost sight of the graves
and memorials behind a stand of pine trees.
Not only that, he almost jumped out of his skin when a cadaverous
individual emerged suddenly from behind those same trees, carrying a pick-axe
and spade.
‘Can I help?’ asked the gaunt
figure. Not a spirit, just an alarming
cemetery worker.
‘Oh – just looking around. I come here every few months. My wife and daughter,’ explained Louis,
indicating the grave back over his shoulder.
‘Hmm. Don’t mess about with anything,’ warned the
man, shouldering his tools and keeping an eye on Louis as the latter walked
past the trees.
Once on the other side of the
windbreak, Louis could see the rear of a series of small, dirty headstones and the figure witnessed at a
distance, closer this time. Thanks to
the headstone the figure was only visible from the shoulders upwards.
You'll have to tune in to the same bat-channel to find out exactly what Luma encounters.
More Western Art
From South Canada, this time a work by Charles Schreyvogel rather than our usual CM Russell. Take it away Chas!
"The Last Drop"
Back when the West was very Wild indeed, the risk of dying from thirst in the enormous unexplored Big Country was a very real and present danger; matey here is being wise and watering his steed, because on horseback he can cover a lot more ground than on foot, thus his chances of finding water are better.
Finally -
Hey, a bit of blue sky! Nor is it raining! Okay, now we've hit the Compositional Ton (actually 1,200 words now we're including "Tormentor") I am going to take Edna for a trot. See ya¬
* Tricky but it can be done
** NOT as in "Into The Night" ta very much
No comments:
Post a Comment