Gents,

From Lady 'M's recent visit to the zoo.

'Stop horsin' around and deliver those sardines...'

Grey Herons wait hopefully in the background.

Folks,

PV1:

The Great Northwest! It is far too easy to relegate, with but a few exceptions, the climatic conditions of the broad expanse that is Canada to just the better known provinces in the east.

LOL. Rapidly sliding Canucks indeed. Canadians are noted for their love of hockey that is true. C51 is a good example. His buddy Dave has a homemade ice rink in his backyard. The winter of 2010 was cold enough to allow them to play hockey quite often. I understand that the weather just past was so warm that he never managed to skate or even slide on it. We have no hockey tradition down here. It does not stay cold long enough for lakes or ponds to freeze solid. Many frost bitten northerners fled the frozen reaches in the past 20 years to live in a place where the snow melts about as soon as it falls and it does not fall all that often. Despite their professed aversion to cold, they brought their tradition of pucking around with them.

Hockey is now rapidly becoming a major sport here in NC and the US. I have not adopted it myself however our Hurricanes have done rather well and one can take some pride purely by association in that I suppose. Particularly if one overlooks a minor point. When the Hurricanes beat the odds makers to win the coveted Stanley Cup there was great celebration in the USA. As far as I was concerned Canada should have gotten half that trophy. We had so many Canadians on our team it was really a case of our Canadians beating your Canadians.

Yes, the ice is definitely the hardest part of learning to skate. As I have written, we have no ponds or lakes that reliably freeze however there are ice rinks dotted about in major southern cities within driving distance of most enthusiasts. I have never attempted to ice skate however I did attempt roller skating as a boy. To my dismay there seemed to be some sort of scientifically inexplicable gravital attraction between the seat of my jeans and the ass-phalt. Perhaps that is how asphalt got its name? Were it not for the fact that two lovely neighbors who skated well took pity and kindly volunteered to hold me up while I rolled along crushed tightly between them I'd have given up much sooner than I did. When I finally admitted defeat it was entirely due to my sense of modesty. I had worn out the seat of my pants.

Put alcohol in just about anything drinkable and someone will not only buy and chug it down but also swear it is the nectar of the gods. One man's chemical fire or topical antiseptic is another unfortunate man's beverage.

There are some interesting micro brewery beers and I have stumbled, perhaps that should be staggered upon several rather palatable domestic wines.

Dux:

Thanks for the photo of Lady "M"'s latest wildlife adventure. It somehow reminds me of the rowdy confusion around the buffet tables at my late wife's family reunions.

Folks,

Happy Eleventh Anniversary.

Gents,
JRT,

Well done old chap. Highly commendable!

Right! Every Squadron member and guests to the Prince and Polecat for cocktails, dinner, speeches, stri...er...and dancing to the acclaimed Dexter Prangworthy Ensemble in support of the Comrades of Kharkov Acrobatic Troupe starring Olga and Ilsa Krutchlegova by kind permission of our gallant allies at the Soviet Embassy in London.

The Accident and Emergency marquee will be available to all in Farmer Drubbins' field at the rear.

Folks,

Dux:

Many thanks. If it were not for my well known modesty not to mention humility I would agree with you. As it is I will simply sit here, blush and smile from ear to ear.

Prangworthy and his ensemble hale form Studley Grange and are well known within a fifty mile radius. I suppose their greatest fame came when the ensemble's coronet player's daughter Ivanna B. Shagworthy had just begun her short career as singer. More on this later.

On Sundays local bands and choral groups were cheerfully invited to perform on the local Studley Grange shortwave radio program broadcast in a line of sight pattern except during the eleven year sunspot cycle when "skip" or the bouncing of radio waves off the Ionosphere allowed even low powered broadcasts to be heard all around the globe. Incidentally we are experiencing that very phenomenon at this time.

Anyway Ms. Shagworthy was just starting what was nearly to be a swiftly abbreviated stint with the Prangworthy Ensemble on the very day of such a broadcast. There had been no opportunity for rehearsal when a last minute cancellation gave Prangworthy the much coveted opportunity to perform on the air that fateful Sunday afternoon. For this reason it was entirely unknown to him that not only had Ms. Shagworthy struggled all her life with a terrible lisp she had an incredible temper as well. Frustrated by her lisp she could be relied upon to break into a sustained tirade of obscene epithets and curses that would make even a long serving British sailor blush.

So it was that promptly at 3:00 PM Sunday, April 23, the Reverend Josephus S. Biblepounda and his "celestial" choir ended their recital on the dot and the Prangworthy Ensemble received their que to begin their premier radio performance. Prangworthy stood before the microphone acting as if the regular audience of 12 humans, several household pets and at least 4 cows could see him through the mike. He slicked down hi cowlick with a spit moistened palm and cleared his throat. At the announcer's intro he turned and bowed to the studio audience. That 'audience' was made up of 3 technicians and the announcer who was now looking somewhat stricken as he pointed hopefully at Prangworthy with the index finger of one hand and at the clock with the other. The very nervous Prangworthy finally took the hint. Turning to his tuxedo clad group he picked up his own instrument and with a rhythmic wave of one hand the music began.

All went well for the first few tunes. Prangworthy and his ensemble had soon relaxed and settled into their regular groove. All was going so well the short, balding, middle aged station manager took his finger off the "kill switch" and left the control room for a stiff drink and a smoke. Prangworthy knew nothing about radio waves or sunspots. He had a mental picture of his audience of course however in his wildest tobacco induced hallucination he could not have envisioned an audience of possibly millions.

At the first commercial break which, due to lack of experience, had unfortunately come right in the middle of "When the lights go out..." Prangworthy took a moment and made sure that his new protégé Ms. Shagworthy was ready to sing. Ivanna was trembling with stage fright but pretended not to be nervous, smiled sweetly and assured the man that on this day she was in rare form indeed. This statement was soon proven to be an understatement.

Prangworthy was staring up at the red "On the Air" light when he received his cue. He turned and looked straight at Ms. Shagworthy and then at the musicians. All of them were looking at Ms. Shagworthy. Prangworthy had to clear his throat twice to get their attention. When he did the music finally began. All seemed well as Shagworthy began the lyrics of "A Nightingale Sang".

Then at some point between a sigh of relief and the second bar something went terribly wrong. The over nervous Shagworthy's lisp returned with a vengeance. Prangworthy attempted to drown out his singer's mistakes by forcing his ensemble to play louder. This drowned out the lisping but it also created huge problems for the sound technician who was now twisting knobs, flipping switches and beating on the glass of the control room in an unsatisfactory attempt to get the volume down.

Mercifully Shagworthy had stopped singing and the volume had safely been lowered. Unfortunately that was precisely when Shagworthy began what was said by local listeners to be her most eloquent bout of swearing in a long and noteworthy career that elevated obscenity to a high art. At that moment the station manager received a phone call from some ministry chap and turning a bright purple hit the "kill" switch.

In spite of a deluge of favorable mail from all points of the globe requesting an encore by his singer; Prangworthy and his ensemble were never invited to perform on the air ever again. However they certainly enjoyed a notoriety far beyond their wildest dreams from the day of the broadcast onward. And they were so much sought after that they had to give Ms. Shagworthy a raise in pay and keep her on as the star of their group.

It is understood that the ensemble prospered for only about a year at which time they fell upon hard times as Ms. Shagworthy performance became so confident and relaxed that her delightful lisp completely disappeared and so did her uncontrolled bouts of cursing. It is good to hear that the Prangworthy Ensemble is still around.

Gents,

JRT,
Your powers of recollection are without peer. A story which we all deserve to enjoy on this our eleventh anniversary. You will also remember that Olga attended for audition with Prangworthy's ensemble and he barely escaped with his life when rash enough to observe that Olga's rendering of that romantic song sounded more like A Nightingale Died in Berkeley Square.

Tonight's beanfest feature the Soviet duo in energetic form as they prepare to perform their first ever acrobatic performance of Der Ring Des Nibelungen outside the Soviet Union.

In one of their Moscow concerts, Stalin insisted in taking part as one of the three daughters. Unfortunately, he put his back out and suffered a double hernia when attempting a pas de deux while appearing to swallow a Cossack's sword. The sum total of his injuries put them up against a brick wall the next day but Stalin relented when the firing squad officer drew Joe's attention to the Pravda headlines which proclaimed his crowning performance, allegedly surpassing anything thus far seen at the Bolshoi Theatre.

We are in for a treat if we can just persuade McG or PV1 to take that role tonight.

Folks,

Dux:

Thank you. It was nothing. If I could have done less, I'm sure I would have...

I am certainly looking forward to MG's debut. I watched the afternoon rehearsal. Unlike us he looks great in a pink tutu even though he has indignantly refused to shave his legs. Speaking of legs; I met a Russian Ballerina once. She and her Bolshoi troupe were on tour across America. I have a photo somewhere. She was a lovely little thing with nearly perfect English and a delightful accent. I wish that I could remember her name.

LOL. Uncle Joe performing a clumsy pas de deux and perhaps breaking into an impromptu Sabre dance tickles my funny bone. As for "The Rings" series of operas it has always been a wonder to me that Russians embraced Wagner in such a way. Hitler loved Wagner and attended the Bayreuth Festival annually. I've read however that 'Die Fledermaus' was his favorite opera. Many folks think that translates to "The Field Mouse" however in reality it is " The Bat". I won a fistful of cash off a somewhat snobbish and as it turned out over confident chap once by knowing that bit of trivia.

Perhaps MG and PV1 have begun their celebration way too early? This could account for their not posting on this anniversary date. Or perhaps they actually have a life and thus more interesting and important things to do.

I'm embroiled in the preparations for v2.12; I've recently discovered that the
campaign help file is editable by a freely available µ$ editing tool, and I'm
trying to fold in all the new descriptions of features developed by our new
BDG member two27 (see Heinkill's post), and get them to appear properly in the
updated help file. A lot of fortuitous guesswork is paying off, and I think
I'll have a working update, which may even fix some bugs in the original help
file.

If that works, it may even be possible to insert helpful excerpts from the
manual on how to campaign successfully, in a future release. Just would
require an ambitious volunteer...

Gentlemen, I'm sure you hardly noticed my delay, performing Swan Lake for the entire cast and audience. My lateness which incidentally made it impossible for me to timely commend you Roger, for yet another fine piece of graphic art, relating to the anniversary medals, was caused primarily due to my efforts evading the attention of Mr. Prangworthy, or "Prankworsy", as he leeringly pronounced it, a speech defect indubitably incurred by of a bout of insobriety, possibly attempting to calm his nerves, after the concert went so disastrously sour.

Somehow he had found access to the changing rooms, or sheds as Drubbin usually calls them, just as I had changed into the -ahem- costume I was to wear during my "Swan Lake" Soiree.

At the time I entertained the suspicion that he might be a German spy with a gameplan gone awry, his overtures I feared were very crass, and horribly I thought him a voyeur. Someone had set the man up so that constantly he talked of a money shot, meaning perhaps a golden opportunity? Although I would never suspect any improper involvement in this from Old Dux, he did look on with a strange grin on his face.


Thankfully, by the time I had received my fourth encore for the memorable interpretation of Swan Lake, Prangworthy was nowhere to be seen, and holding the belief that fate should not be tempted, I hastily made myself scarce, retiring to undisclosed quarters with Ms. Shagworthy and her good friend, Anita Busombody, for a fascinating discussion on the dairy business.

Belatedly Happy 11th anniversary HWH!

Folks,

PV1, MG:

I'm so happy you two dropped in. The long celebration is about over and I need someone to help me drag Dux's comatose and rather soggy earthly coil to the front steps of HWH Hall so LeRoy can get him into a wheelbarrow and deliver him to the hospital marquee. I agree MG, he does not seem to be feeling any pain. However you can never be too careful plus the janitorial staff really need to mop the floor under that particular table.

PV1:

You are indeed a busy and productive fellow who, by virtue of that fact and others, deserve our appreciation. The fruits of your labors are benefiting so many in the BoB community. I noted the subtle hint. Do the volunteers absolutely, positively 'have' to be ambitious? How about just gullible and slow witted? I'd qualify for that and Dux will be reasonably sober in a few hours. What does the work actually entail?

MG:

Not since Olga headlined in "The Red Shoes" has a performer danced with such fervor if not grace.

Bravo! Bravo! Encore! I can still hear the audience shouting. Please take another bow. That was indeed a bravura performance of Swan Lake if ever I've witnessed one. Had your Tutu stayed on for the entire last act the audience might have been slightly less enthusiastic but not by much.