Cosy crime travel to Wainwright while dangerous blondes lurk

A quiet day. Madame has Wainwright tonight. She has been curled up reading some Evelyn Waugh. A selection of his travel writing.

I'm not that keen on travel books. I would rather be out and doing for myself. But Madame is fond of the quirkier, chattier books. One bloke's trip around the shipping forecast. That kind of thing.

She is also on a cosy crime spree. Working her way through a pile of pretty green and white Penguins. Full of frustrated maiden aunts poisioning curates and housemaids with arsenic filled muffins.

I prefer my crime hardboiled. Chandler. Hammett. Noir. Flickering neon. Neat bourbon. Dangerous blondes.

Bears know all about dangerous blondes.

It's true. No bowl of porridge, no shuggly chair, no freshly made bed is safe while blondes roam free.

hello, goodbye - or - never get out of the plane

It's been a tough time. Chaos, confusion and an unplanned indoor water feature. I am "new and improved". Hum. Slightly more boggly eyed than I'd like. And my nose is still a work-in-progress apparently. But at least all my bits are attached and I'm in a better condition than Her.

Big thanks to Nomi (bidie-in of Comehither Frog) for looking after Her the other day. And not laughing when my eyes fell out. We can save the big sack, a brick and a trip to the river for the next time. Bear salutes you.

So now I'm off to the Heart of Darkness - Riga.

Wish me luck.

Apocalypse Now Redux really was different, wasn't it ...