{"id":458,"date":"2014-09-22T17:06:12","date_gmt":"2014-09-22T17:06:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/?p=458"},"modified":"2014-09-22T20:34:55","modified_gmt":"2014-09-22T20:34:55","slug":"conker-time","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/?p=458","title":{"rendered":"Conker drop&#8230;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>and the birds and squirrels are busy. Breath hangs in the air on the bike ride to school. The sky has that nothingness-white, snow-crystal look to it. I&#8217;ve been reading Tolstoy&#8217;s <em>The Cossacks<\/em>, off in the ice-capped mountain lands near Grozny. It&#8217;s the Russian runaway&#8217;s Wild West, full of noble savages galloping into the forest and dancing peasant girls nibbling at pumpkin seeds. I can&#8217;t quite tell if Leo loves it or hates it as some silly myth-making, think I prefer Lermontov&#8217;s straight ripping yarn style, or getting lost in the blizzards of Pushkin&#8217;s <em>The Captain&#8217;s Daughter<\/em>. I&#8217;ve been reading to escape the carnage and calamity of current affairs &#8211; and the Caledonian crusher. And as you read, you learn new tips and truths. Next time I&#8217;m lost on the steppe, I&#8217;ll know how to find my way to the village. Daddy Eroshka shared his secrets with me over a cup of wine in a Cossack hut. You find a hillock to climb, cup your hands and howl like a wolf. Howl for all you&#8217;re worth. And the village dogs will start barking, way off in the distance, a call to guide you home.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/bird.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-459 alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/bird.jpg\" alt=\"bird\" width=\"640\" height=\"521\" srcset=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/bird.jpg 640w, https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/09\/bird-300x244.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>and the birds and squirrels are busy. Breath hangs in the air on the bike ride to school. The sky has that nothingness-white, snow-crystal look to it. I&#8217;ve been reading Tolstoy&#8217;s The Cossacks, off in the ice-capped mountain lands near Grozny. It&#8217;s the Russian runaway&#8217;s Wild West, full of noble savages galloping into the forest [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-458","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-henry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=458"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":465,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/458\/revisions\/465"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=458"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=458"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=458"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}