DC 5

There is a low fence ouside the door of our house here in the Balrog. It's pretty dilapidated and looks a bit rubbish, but it makes me happy for one simple reason.

When I arrive at the house by foot I look up and down Forest road to see if there's anyone about. Assuming I am unobserved, I take a little run-up and hop over the part that's broken and slightly lower. It makes me happy.

The strange thing, though, is that when I thought of how to describe this to you, a phrase popped into my head, unbidden: "It's not a challenge, only about a DC 5 jump".

Things have been crazy these last few weeks, what with getting to know a new place and all. I hadn't realised I was down to thinking about the world in terms of The Core Mechanic, though.

Advice is solicited!

A cultured dinner

There are dishes, the world over, with special cultural meaning. As an Englishman I neturally get misty-eyed at the idea of roast meat and boiled vegetables all mashed-up on a plate covered with gravy and maybe some silly paper hats. The particular variety of Macaroni Cheese made by my parents holds a special place in my heart. Baked Potatoes are for Bonfire night, and Bran is for Honesty.

There is another dish that has become special to me since last year. It suggests jovial poverty, cheerful nihilism, and cameraderie.

First off, you want to get some potatoes. British Desiree potatoes with a reddish hue are best, while floury white potatoes are less satisfying. Wash them off, cut out any sprouts, but don't peel them. Boil well and mash, with maybe a little butter but no milk. Use the water to make instant gravy (Beef flavour is best). Make it good and thick. Pour over and serve from a casserole dish ("trough") or, failing that, a plastic bowl.

Potatoes and Gravy. It's what you eat when you should really get a job.

3BT

Forgive me. I am succumbing to the temptation to be part of the blogosphere by linking to a Blogger Blog of Note of the Blog Day.

It is called Three Beautiful Things, and it is a good antidote to the fact that these days I'm not normally blogging when in the composed frame of mind only a gentleman wearing a bathrobe and eating cereal can achieve.

That sentance was kinf of convoluted, I know. But as I say, lucidity is rare commodity when I've been working in the Player-Kill all day.

Now, if you'll excuse me, to walk home through my favourite month: October pretending to be September.