Descriptive signage amongst the bright lights of Broadway in Times Square. New York, New York, USA.

 

Señalización descriptiva entre las luces brillantes de Broadway en Times Square. Nueva York, Nueva York, Estados Unidos.

The descriptive term morro is common to the Spanish (e.g. El Morro in Havana), Portuguese and Italian languages, and the word is part of many place names where there is a distinctive and prominent rock formation. Note that the similar Spanish descriptive word "moro" indicates a bluish color rather than a shape. Morro Bay is on the Central California coast.

Nothing like a descriptive title eh? :o)

I loved this abandoned house as it had so much character with the porch and the small round window, but I can't help thinking that the add on garage kind of let it down a bit.

 

Chrome Update for those of you who are interested...

It's only been a day, and already I have had issues with stats and contacts images loading. So I find myself alternating between browsers for different functions...Joy! It appears I only have issues with Flickr, all other websites are fine in any of the 3 browsers I now have on the go....So Thanks Flickr!

 

On the plus side my images don't look as soft in Chrome in here.

It has been such a dreadful year for butterflies I was worried that my local White-letter Hairstreaks might not appear but I managed to see several this afternoon. I am increasingly worried about this Elm-dependent butterfly having survived the ravages of Dutch Elm disease, two of my local colonies have had their Elms chopped down for no obvious reason. They are definitely one of Britain's scarcer butterflies that most people would only see by making a special effort to find them. I usually spot this elusive hairstreak fluttering around the canopy of Elm Trees. But occasionally I can find one at photographable elevations, like this one. In common with Black and Green Hairstreaks it never basks with its wings open. I photographed this one not far from the village of Shepley in West Yorkshire.

 

White-letter Hairstreak was the original butterfly to which the name hair streak was applied by James Petiver in 1703. The scientific name Satyrium is named after the Satyrs in Greek mythology. Satyrs are associated with the worship of Bacchus, and are often depicted with horns and the rear-end of a goat (like Mr Tumnus the "Fawn" in C S Lewis's Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe). Satyrs engaged in spritely dances with the Nymphs and it is thought the name Satyrium was given because of its lively flight. W-album is purely descriptive of the white (albus) letter W.

© laura kicey

A Prowling Affair

  

“A time for everything: A time to relax, and a time to be busy. A time to frolic and a time to labor. A time to give and a time to receive. A time to give, a time to begin and a time to finish.”

…Jonathon Lockwood Huie

 

“A time to lose and a time to gain. And for all these things, there is a first time, which is now.”

…Unknown

  

I’ve never cared for the rather unimaginatively given name of

 

“Pickpocket.”

 

Personally, I prefer the term “lifter” as a more adequately descriptive definition of what I was really into at the time.

Lifting as in from a pocket, purse, and beyond.

Beyond being lifting something specifically being worn by the person, such as a watch, bracelet, brooch, necklace, and even earring(s).

 

But then, that is just me being me.

 

So those statements being said, they are not really important to this story I am about to tell. For it was this occasion that “lifted” me into a whole different level of thievery.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I was at one of my favorite haunts, a wedding reception. This one is very upscale and quite richly delicious.

 

Almost like I had walked into the aftermath of two rooms being completely dumped onto a third one full of people. One room was full of expensive designer attire, the other full of over-the-top expensive jewellery.

 

Hopefully, you get the picture of what I was seeing.

 

I was dressed for an evening out, wearing a sexily short-skirted black satin dress with loose ruffles down the open neckline, a gold belt, and gold dangling earrings. My long red hair was straight down with a curl at the ends. I carried my long black velvet shoulder purse.

 

The reception was supposed to be a private affair but had so many guests that it was not hard for strangers like myself to mingle in.

 

It was a late evening affair, held in the huge basement area of a five-star hotel, with an interior entrance and one large exterior front entrance. Both of which had manned security booths set up. However, in the far backside, we’re two long corridors. One had the ladies' loo and a door at the end that led to outside gardens. The other contained the gentleman’s loo with a door at the end leading to a back parking lot, not fenced in.

 

Neither outside door was watched, or locked. And people were going in and out of those doors regularly. Didn’t make much sense not to be watched, but that was how I gained a surprisingly easy entry.

 

Cautiously I entered, immediately spying a pair of sweet sixteeners coming out of the loo ahead of me. They definitely were not sisters. They were also definitely royally decked out. Both were wearing long sequined satin gowns(blue and peach)with matching gloves. The gowns were fitted, designer, made, and had obviously been bridesmaid’s dresses for a different wedding each. Both wore their long silky hair elegantly up, held by mother-of-pearl clasps. The twittering pair also were jewelled up, sporting sweet gleaming sets of real matched pearls that swayed with a mesmerizing motion to the girl’s perky gait.

 

They paid no heed to me, and I lazily followed them inside the main chambre.

 

Contemplating that if the young adults were dolled up like this, what must the legal adults be wearing?

 

I had my answer soon enough, and my first few minutes inside is what plopped the rooms being dumped together thought of mine which I wrote about at the beginning.

 

It was delicious, moving in and out as I canvassed the room,admiring the sumptuous attire of the men and ladies present, expensive jewellery beckoning, plump purses, and fat wallets invitingly everywhere. I was ever on the lookout for opportunities to use my skilled fingers over.

 

My first opportunity looked to come my way as I whimsically found myself following a short brunette wearing a simply lovely gown that I actually owned a non-designer version of in the same colour , which is what caught my eye.

 

It was a green gown with a tight velvet bodice and free-falling taffeta skirt. I wish I looked as good in my copy as she did in her fitted one.

 

She was handsomely sporting a dazzling teardrop emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds hanging from a solid gold braided chain. It was bouncing from her perky breasts as she walked, creating quite the taunting show.

 

I could well imagine myself looking into a mirror wearing my version of that gown while also wearing that emerald and diamond set pendant.

 

As a plus, her long hair was up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore. Since I was still getting my feet wet, I was content with just stalking and seeing if it led to something.

 

It did, but not for her necklace.

 

As I was following the brunette I spotted a gorilla of a man wearing a far too-tight tux. He was showing off by lifting a squealing lady over his head like one would lift a set of weights.

 

Three of the lady's girlfriends, dressed in gowns of lavender, maroon, and neon lime, formed a half circle as they all watched laughing, pushing, and pawing against one another’s well-dressed figures as they cheered the bloke on.

 

With a twinge of reluctance, I decided to pass on the brunette for this much easier opportunity.

 

So I left her to go on her hip-swaying way, then got in with the half circle of sumptuously dressed ladies and joined in with the touchy-feely fun.

 

As he was bending over to put her down, I saw his jacket was lifted exposing a thick wallet now protruding from his hip pocket.

 

The girl joined her friends and as the “gorilla” watched with a half-pleased smile, I left them and walked past him, patting him on the rear with a slight squeeze.

 

I easily helped his wallet out the rest of the way as I patted his rear while saying to the prat’s backside…

“That has to be more fun than working out in a gym, eh laddie?”

 

Ok, so that was picking a pocket. But I still prefer the phrase lifting.

 

As in the solid silver Cartier watch, and the loosely worn emerald gemstone cocktail ring I lifted off two of the three watchers as we giggled together, and I happily stroked my fingers along their too soft sleek gowned, giggly warm, unsuspecting bodies.

 

With three scores now under my belt, my fingers deliciously tingled as I continued meandering my way amongst the happily partying guests, biding my time as I enjoyed the showy glamour of the reception halls’ guests.

 

The first dance time for the Bride and her Consort came.

 

Lights dimmed.

 

I began pressing up from behind against the couples in front. Seeing a sea of arms wrapped around silken waistlines. I eased off a man’s Rolex from his wrist as he held it against his wife’s satin-gowned waist. Similarly, I then relieved a lady’s gloved wrist of a gold jewelled bracelet as I pressed the fingers of my free hand against the side of her delightfully tingling feeling taffeta gown. My apologies to her were accepted as my other hand pocketed the bracelet.

 

Then as the wedding party held the floor, another hip pocket of a male watcher was relieved of a fat billfold.

 

Two picks and a lift for you language police out there.

 

Then the dance area, with the lights still dimmed, erupted as couples swarmed onto the floor. I went with the flow. Lifting a plump wallet from a swinging purse in the process as I cut through.

 

I then stationed myself in the outskirts watching the dancers. A fast dance tune started up and many of the men retreated leaving mostly ladies in shiny flowing gowns and swinging long shimmery skirts gyrating and jostling to the fast beat.

 

I spotted a lady wearing a taffeta gown with a diamond broach holding at the side of her waist.

 

I started to swing to the beat myself, wading in.

 

I worked my way to her, passing in the process the two sweet sixteen-year-olds and their swinging ropes of pearls. Brushing alongside them I spotted my prey. I zeroed in and jostled against her sweaty figure. Managing to easily pluck off her pricey broach as I slipped past.

 

Love the feel of an expensive taffeta gown.

 

I briefly considered leaving at that point. But there was still one traditional part of the reception I was waiting for, the Bride’s Bouquet throw.

 

Think of the potential.

 

A group of jostling, well-dressed ladies all focused on one thing. With someone like myself focused on another. There is no other opportunity like this, with the possible exception of midnight on New Year’s when the lights are dimmed over a swarming sea of guests.

 

So I behaved myself, catching a smoke and a free drink as I waited with anticipation.

 

Finally, it was announced and all of us single girls went out onto the dance floor.

 

I watched and like a lioness in the bush, circled around in the back.

 

I saw a young lady of twelve coming out to take part. She was a darling, dollied and dressed up like an adult. She was wearing blue mascara, that matched the colour of the long flowing blue satin gown she adorably was wearing. A fancy Long rhinestone necklace of diamonds and sapphires, were glistening down the front of her gown as she boldly made her way in.

 

When she passed me I cut her off and bumped right into her. As she wobbled on her blue leather pumps, my right hand shot up, lifting the front of her necklace as my left unsnapped the simple clasp. I pulled her necklace off with my right hand as she went off an apologetic ”Sorry miss ” like it had been her fault.

 

I had taken her necklace because I felt peeved that anyone not of marrying age would feel she should be allowed to take part, spoiling the tradition. Like having a cap and gown graduation for preschoolers, complete with diplomas. Kinda of ruins the meaning for those of us graduating after long years of schooling.

 

Sorry, but really, was a twelve-year-old going to be the one to marry next?

 

Oh by the by, the young girl's obviously wealthy mum was not wearing jewellery, otherwise, I would have targeted her instead to make my silent point.

 

So after that random encounter, I went back on the prowl, quickly choosing a likely victim and legitimately eligible participant.

 

I happily positioned myself.

 

The girl I had chosen was a tall thin blonde tightly encased in a white silk dress. Her jewels consisted mostly of 14K gold chains. Except for a gold tennis bracelet set with diamonds and rubies which is what I had my sights on.

 

Then, who should pop up next to the blonde? Why it was the short brunette wearing that simply lovely green velvet and taffeta gown like the one I had back in my closet at the flat.

 

Also wearing that delectable dazzling pendant.

 

I had not seen her since I had first started to follow her, and truth be told, had almost forgotten all about her.

 

I immediately wedged against the girl next to me(a nice lady in a silk gown with pearls) and got behind the brunette

 

The brunette chick's hair was still up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore, with that expensively flashy jewelled pendant at its bottom. She was short, the neckline of her gown coming up to my chin. It was now all a matter of timing.

 

As the bridal bouquet of roses was thrown and everyone lunged forward my fingers snaked up the backside of her soft gown and reaching the necklace I lifted the clasp and with a perfectly executed lift, opened it, slipping off her necklace almost before her high-heeled feet were firmly back on the ground.

 

I pulled away with my prize. And she with hers, for my victim had actually been the one catching the bouquet.

 

I turned, almost bumping into the pair of sweet sixteens in the satin bridesmaids' gowns who had been standing off to one side of us trying their luck at catching the bouquet.

 

We exchanged smiles and actually started walking off in the same direction. I pulled back and discreetly followed them.

 

Watching with interest as their gowns were richly fluttering along their svelte youthfully pointed figures. They then entered the same back corridor where I had first encountered them.

 

I saw one pulling out a pack of cigarettes as they whispered between themselves.

 

Happily, I overheard that they were sneaking off for a smoke.

 

For I saw opportunity knocking.

 

Following the girls I stood at the door of the loo as they slipped out the back door.

 

I turned and followed.

 

I was anticipating a chance to use their fear of being caught by me outside smoking, to allow me to chum right in and once I told them I saw no reason why they shouldn’t be smoking, receive relieved hugs from them as I left. Relieving each of them in turn by trimming off some of their pearled baubles.

 

At least that was the scenario that played out in my head.

 

One that had worked for me before. Except for that last time, three well-dressed younger ladies had been outside sneaking drinks from a flask. A pair of diamond earrings, a gold braided necklace, and a stunning diamond pin, had been my relieving picks from them.

  

So deciding that an opportunity for a pearl lift may be at hand I circled out and just followed the giggling and smoke signals emitting from their hidden roost.

 

I maneuvered up, unseen, behind them. And once again, I was that lioness hidden in the bush, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  

As I waited, watching their adorably gowned and pearled figures as they giggled and gabbed on freely, I easily overheard the pair of sweet ones talking about their planned sleepover at the one girl's house.

 

The pretty pair were going to be alone since both parents were staying overnight at the hotel next to the reception.

 

I thought to myself how lovely it would be to burgle that house. To acquire all of the girl's delicious pearls, and possibly more?!

 

Then an epiphany as new as it was intriguing shot into my mind.

 

Why not try it?

 

I already had a nice haul for the evening. So if I could not pull it off I stood to lose nothing.

 

It was a gamble I was willing to take.

 

I stood there and watched, listened until the pair finished and swished their way back inside, none the wiser that they(and their pricy jewellery)had been watched in close proximity by a thief.

  

In a total bit of whimsy I went back to my sports coupe parked across an empty street from the lot. Once there I lit a cigarette of my own and stood vigil over the back parking lot.

 

There I could see several fancy cars parked. Including the fire-red Porsche that I had learned the one girl would be driving herself and her friend home in for their sleepover. The sports car was a sixteenth birthday gift from her parents.

 

All I received on my sweet sixteen was a summons to the head mistress’s office.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

It was nearly two hours before I spied the fetchingly pretty pair walking out across that parking lot, smoking cigarettes like petite geysers.

 

They were vulnerably alone, their shiny long gowns flowing along svelte youthful figures with an air of elegance that called out to be noticed.

 

And with those gorgeous pearls, they were wearing, both clueless chicks presented a pair of prettily attired targets for a thief.

 

Fortunately, there were no muggers around. Only me, a thief with quite different aspirations on acquiring pearls this evening.

 

Seeing the girls leaving I got in my coupe and followed the red Porsche as it turned the corner.

 

It was easy to follow them. The driver was inexperienced enough not to have a lead foot.

  

The Porsche finally turned into the secluded driveway leading to a large two-story gothic stone structure, with small balconies outside the upper floor windows. As was a common sight with these large houses, a metal flower trellis reached up one side in between two balconies.

 

I found a place to pull over and quickly got out to sneak up and scout the grounds surrounding the house.

 

I saw a light go on upstairs, conveniently on the trellis side. Thankful my dress was tightly form-fitting, I went over and climbed up far enough to peek inside the upper-floor window

 

It was a bedroom, walls painted pink. Both girls were inside, starting to undress. Totally so into themselves that the pretty things had no idea a thief was eyeing them with sinister intent.

 

Licking my lips I watched the pair removing thier delicious pearls and piling them up on the vanity next to an open oak jewellery case, the contents shimmering in the light.

 

Then they pulled off their gloves and slipped out of their gowns, wearing only long slinking silk slips. Both girls, long hair now down, slipped into fancy satin robes and giggling, headed out the door.

 

I slipped back down the trellis and skirted the house. A light in the basement came on.

 

Crouching in the shadows I peeked in. The handsomely satin-wrapped pair were sitting on a couch in the furnished basement. Passing back and forth a clear bottle containing an amber-coloured liquor. Scotch I presumed.

 

Seeing they were becoming quickly intoxicated, I rose and with a feeling of utter confidence, went back to the trellis and climbed back up to the window.

 

It was conveniently left unlatched.

 

Piece of cake this burgling business apparently could be.

 

Turned out, It was a piece of cake.

 

Beginner’s luck, we’ll see.

 

I slipped over the sill and into the bedroom they had changed in.

 

The young lady's pearls piled on a vanity, next to the open jewellery case were my first target.

 

As the clueless young pair in the furnished basement was getting drunk, I put on a pair of satin evening gloves found on one of the gowns and lifted(or picked) the bedroom clean of valuables.

 

No persnickety housemaid could have done a more efficient job of picking clean that bedroom, or as quickly, as I did that early morning.

 

Then I left the room to hit the parent’s master bedroom.

 

It was the one on the opposite side of the hallway.

 

Inside I found a tall Jewelry Armoire. I opened it up and my eyes were dazzled by the display of pricy day jewelry it held. Or had held for another ten minutes until I emptied its contents into my already bulging purse.

 

I knew the mum would be wearing the good stuff at the wedding, the rest may be inside a safe, which was beyond my skill level in picking.

 

I briefly wondered if the owner of the red Porsche knew her parent's safe combination.

 

I thought of taking the time to find out. But shook my head no. Time to skedaddle.

 

Then I saw it. In my rush, I had almost missed a solitary piece of jewellery laying out on a nightstand.

 

It was a dazzler. An almost 7-centimeter wide bracelet, set with 7 strands of diamonds. Three strands of round stones each flanking a centre strand of pear-shaped stones. Vulgarly expensive.

 

But why was it out? A trap?

 

I edged up to the nightstand and looked around. Nothing else appeared out of place.

 

Except for that expensively flashy diamond bracelet.

 

Looking around, I carefully eased it off the nightstand. Nothing happened, not that I knew what could have happened.

 

I stuffed the bracelet inside my purse, still looking warily around.

 

I shrugged my feelings of danger off and left the room. Though perhaps a tad bit quicker than necessary.

 

I went back to the pink bedroom, then climbed back out the window and down the metal trellis

 

I stopped by the basement window for one last peek. The young shiny attired darlings were intensely hugging each other. The bottle of scotch was now almost empty.

 

Suddenly a naughty picture popped inside my head, with no proper rhyme, nor reason.

 

In that picture, I saw the pair still dressed voluptuously up in their satin gowns, tied up gagged, and sinister hands groping as the haplessly squirming sweet sixteeners were being relieved of pearls. Then long feminine fingers were tickling in the girl’s sensitive areas until a safe opening combination was coughed up.

 

It was a picture that would not go away. I shook my head to get them out and left.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I ruined the dress I was wearing, but I realized I had gotten away with enough small pricey valuables that gave me a profit that more than doubled my pickings combined over the previous 4 months.

 

As I drove home I experienced such a rush of euphoria that I decided the experience just had to be relived.

 

When I got back to my rooms, I changed into my satin pjs and empty my purse onto the black satin sheets of my bed.

 

I lifted the pearls and couldn’t stop fingering them as my euphoria overwhelmed me with sweeping hot flashes of giddiness over my accomplishments.

 

It was a lovely feeling. Both sensuous and a bit of hard sexual desires.

 

Not really sure where the bound and gagged fantasy picture came from. Or what it was foretelling if anything.

 

But the reality of tonight’s experience lay in glittering heaps on my black satin sheets.

 

I picked up the far to valuably shimmering diamond bracelet.

 

Pondering.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I bring that last memory up because years later I may have found out why the diamond bracelet had been left out.

 

For apparently some of the ultra-wealthy, as a ruse, will leave out several pieces of valuable jewels as a deterrent. Hoping the inexperienced thief will grab those and flee without searching further. Which is exactly what I did.

 

It also means that those two sweet sixteeners may have been the only barrier between me and a potentially small fortune in hidden jewels.

 

So maybe that fantasy vision I had about tickling to find a safe combination could have been an unrealized sixth sense moment?

 

One never knows.

 

Fini

 

Although angelic and choirboy are descriptions of Brian Jones those descriptive words don't pop into most people's heads right away when describing him although thousands of references to Brian have been made using these words. However, Brian Jones. the true founder and one time leader of the Rolling Stones was anything but an angel.

 

Yet, fifty years and more after his mysterious death, he is still an enigmatic figure. Stories are still being written about Brian Jones. Written about his looks, his life and his prodigious musical talent. He could play any instrument in short order. Listen to 'Lady Jane' and it is Brian on the mountain Dulcimer, to 'Let's Spend the Night Together' and it is Brian pounding out the chords on the piano, On 'Paint it Black', Brian does a great job on the Indian Sitar. I loved hearing his echoing flute on 'Ruby Tuesday'. Flute, guitar, percussion, you name it he played it.

 

On the night of 3rd July, 1969, fifty years ago, Brian went for a midnight swim and within the space of a few short minutes ended up drowned in his own pool. The people who were there, the stories told to authorities were all supposedly checked out but, there still remains a huge mystery.

 

I for one, have never forgotten seeing him on Ed Sullivan all those misty years ago. I loved him then, I love him now and will forever miss him and wonder what happened and what could have been had he lived.

 

Miss you, Brian.

  

Please enjoy "Lady Jane", Brian Jones on Mountain Dulcimer, 1966. www.youtube.com/watch?v=XirG-qwMCMc

  

descriptive manifesto

descriptively named beetle..

One of the 'cutest', bowdlerised but descriptive words for the crystal-clear appendage that you see at the end of the top Longhorn Beetle in this photo is an 'intromittent organ'. Ordinary people like you and me would call it a penis or probably by one of those well-known four-letter words (in Dutch, incidentally, usually three-letter ones). The scientific term for the beetle organ is 'aedeagus' - New-latin from the ancient Greek for 'privy parts' and 'leading' or even 'thrusting' - and it was coined in 1860 by a learned French entomologist.

But for a lot of reasons 'penis' is confusing in this context. One is that this kind of beetle sex is not fricative - if that's the right word; moreover there's no sudden burst but rather a kind of 'seepage' into or retrieval of sperm packets by the female organ which will open them, as it were, at its own leisure.

Our Two Longhorn Beetles are putting on a nice show on Potentilla recta, Sulphur Cinquefoil.

If you examine that 'intromittent organ' in the photo carefully you will note a sheath which is apparently quite hard. At its top is a so-called 'internal sac' that contains those sperm packets. This aedeagus was withdrawn as I watched, and our partners soon went their own ways.

This angled version of Marlatt's is most descriptive of agriculture, the barn and outbuildings. There are always cut up cottonwood piled somewhere on these farms. The Edster stopped at the Hygiene, Colorado Marlatt barn on our way west toward Lyons. Had we been here a bit earlier, the clouds would have been more of an element in the image. If nothing else, the Rockies will bring us the cool for the day. A tip of the ol' cap to eDDie and another trek. If this barn is so bright, hows come it couldn't answer a single question I put to it? The fellow who was doing the chores came up to me to greet, or accost me, one or the other. I glad handed him, introduced myself and asked if Alberta was still around that kind of set him aback. He replied that she died four years ago and we chatted. She was a museum director with me. He seemed proud that he got new white paint on the barn trim. There's more to do. He said it got flooded during the big one. I asked if he would rather head up to the hills with us where it was cool? Work to do! HA, I get my whole sandwich!

 

A week before I made my Big Sky tour of Golden Ponds and early Sunday morning eDDie trek, we again headed for the hills. The Edster stopped at the Hygiene, Colorado Marlatt barn on our way west toward Lyons. Had we been here a bit earlier, the clouds would have been more of an element in the image. If nothing else, the Rockies will bring the cool for the day. A tip of the ol' cap to eDDie and another trek.

 

And why do I need more shots in my unedited stash?

 

Bolivia is a landlocked country located in western-central South America.

 

There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment.

 

Taking an image, freezing a moment, reveals how rich reality truly is.

 

Photography is a way of feeling, of touching, of loving.

A country of extremes, landlocked Bolivia is the highest and most isolated country in South America.

 

La Paz, Bolivia, is the most extraordinary city.

 

La Paz, city, administrative capital of Bolivia, west-central Bolivia. It is situated some 68 km southeast of Lake Titicaca.

 

Sitting in a valley in the Andes Mountains, La Paz is the city that touches the clouds.

 

The most colorful thing in the world is black and white, it contains all colors and at the same time excludes all.

 

Color is descriptive. Black and white is interpretive.

 

...my descriptive phrase of the day! Cloudless blue sky, cool temperatures and a holiday weekend just around the corner! View On Black

IMG_7089 2025 02 07 file

Playing with HDR parameters

20171211.USA.JO©.SEA.SS.00006 ©JDOwens/devtank

Color is descriptive. Black and white is interpretive – Elliot Erwitt

  

I have never met an image that did not know it was a black and white photograph. From moment of capture it has always had an opinion. I have also heard a lot of horse fertilizer about what makes a black whit image a black and white image.

  

Every image you capture you see in color. When we shot film eventohouh the film wa black and white what we saw was color. Soooo… Mr/ Smartypants what;’s the magic equation then you ask?

  

When the distraction of color gets in the way of the abstraction of the images gesture. Gesture is the key element of every photograph.

  

As to this image- It could be argued that in most parts of Cuba a cigar is the sixth finger of a hand

  

WHAT A BLAST this last workshop to Cuba was.

  

the Zf is the camera I grab when I have no idea what I am walking into and Nikkor optics are just a visual pleasure to look through wilst I shoot. Nobody does In focus to blur as well as Nikon does.

  

Come join me for my next Cuba trip March 07-14 2024 Seeing the Sounds of Music Hearing the Dance of the Photograph. Working link is in my bio

www.versacephotography.com/.../cuba-seeing-the.../

  

All images are raw processed using Nike Studio NX, Post processed in Photoshop CC and the NiK collection by DxO.

  

#Nikon100 #nikonlove #kelbyone #photography #onOne @NikonUSA #NIkonUSA

#mirrorless #Nikonzf #135mm #plena #NikonNoFilter #niksoftware #nikonUSA #Epson

#wacom #xritephoto #calibrite #onone #sunbounce #fineartphotography #kolarivision

#DxO #iamgenerationimage #iamnikon #B&H #PhotogenicbyBenQ

#nikonLOVE #hoodman #infrared #Cuba

#nikonnofilter #nikonambassador

   

Descriptive catalogue of the nests & eggs of birds found breeding in Australia and Tasmania /

Sydney :F.W. White, general printer,1889.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/57793287

A Prowling Affair

  

“A time for everything: A time to relax, and a time to be busy. A time to frolic and a time to labor. A time to give and a time to receive. A time to give, a time to begin and a time to finish.”

…Jonathon Lockwood Huie

 

“A time to lose and a time to gain. And for all these things, there is a first time, which is now.”

…Unknown

  

I’ve never cared for the rather unimaginatively given name of

 

“Pickpocket.”

 

Personally, I prefer the term “lifter” as a more adequately descriptive definition of what I was really into at the time.

Lifting as in from a pocket, purse, and beyond.

Beyond being lifting something specifically being worn by the person, such as a watch, bracelet, brooch, necklace, and even earring(s).

 

But then, that is just me being me.

 

So those statements being said, they are not really important to this story I am about to tell. For it was this occasion that “lifted” me into a whole different level of thievery.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I was at one of my favorite haunts, a wedding reception. This one is very upscale and quite richly delicious.

 

Almost like I had walked into the aftermath of two rooms being completely dumped onto a third one full of people. One room was full of expensive designer attire, the other full of over-the-top expensive jewellery.

 

Hopefully, you get the picture of what I was seeing.

 

I was dressed for an evening out, wearing a sexily short-skirted black satin dress with loose ruffles down the open neckline, a gold belt, and gold dangling earrings. My long red hair was straight down with a curl at the ends. I carried my long black velvet shoulder purse.

 

The reception was supposed to be a private affair but had so many guests that it was not hard for strangers like myself to mingle in.

 

It was a late evening affair, held in the huge basement area of a five-star hotel, with an interior entrance and one large exterior front entrance. Both of which had manned security booths set up. However, in the far backside, we’re two long corridors. One had the ladies' loo and a door at the end that led to outside gardens. The other contained the gentleman’s loo with a door at the end leading to a back parking lot, not fenced in.

 

Neither outside door was watched, or locked. And people were going in and out of those doors regularly. Didn’t make much sense not to be watched, but that was how I gained a surprisingly easy entry.

 

Cautiously I entered, immediately spying a pair of sweet sixteeners coming out of the loo ahead of me. They definitely were not sisters. They were also definitely royally decked out. Both were wearing long sequined satin gowns(blue and peach)with matching gloves. The gowns were fitted, designer, made, and had obviously been bridesmaid’s dresses for a different wedding each. Both wore their long silky hair elegantly up, held by mother-of-pearl clasps. The twittering pair also were jewelled up, sporting sweet gleaming sets of real matched pearls that swayed with a mesmerizing motion to the girl’s perky gait.

 

They paid no heed to me, and I lazily followed them inside the main chambre.

 

Contemplating that if the young adults were dolled up like this, what must the legal adults be wearing?

 

I had my answer soon enough, and my first few minutes inside is what plopped the rooms being dumped together thought of mine which I wrote about at the beginning.

 

It was delicious, moving in and out as I canvassed the room,admiring the sumptuous attire of the men and ladies present, expensive jewellery beckoning, plump purses, and fat wallets invitingly everywhere. I was ever on the lookout for opportunities to use my skilled fingers over.

 

My first opportunity looked to come my way as I whimsically found myself following a short brunette wearing a simply lovely gown that I actually owned a non-designer version of in the same colour , which is what caught my eye.

 

It was a green gown with a tight velvet bodice and free-falling taffeta skirt. I wish I looked as good in my copy as she did in her fitted one.

 

She was handsomely sporting a dazzling teardrop emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds hanging from a solid gold braided chain. It was bouncing from her perky breasts as she walked, creating quite the taunting show.

 

I could well imagine myself looking into a mirror wearing my version of that gown while also wearing that emerald and diamond set pendant.

 

As a plus, her long hair was up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore. Since I was still getting my feet wet, I was content with just stalking and seeing if it led to something.

 

It did, but not for her necklace.

 

As I was following the brunette I spotted a gorilla of a man wearing a far too-tight tux. He was showing off by lifting a squealing lady over his head like one would lift a set of weights.

 

Three of the lady's girlfriends, dressed in gowns of lavender, maroon, and neon lime, formed a half circle as they all watched laughing, pushing, and pawing against one another’s well-dressed figures as they cheered the bloke on.

 

With a twinge of reluctance, I decided to pass on the brunette for this much easier opportunity.

 

So I left her to go on her hip-swaying way, then got in with the half circle of sumptuously dressed ladies and joined in with the touchy-feely fun.

 

As he was bending over to put her down, I saw his jacket was lifted exposing a thick wallet now protruding from his hip pocket.

 

The girl joined her friends and as the “gorilla” watched with a half-pleased smile, I left them and walked past him, patting him on the rear with a slight squeeze.

 

I easily helped his wallet out the rest of the way as I patted his rear while saying to the prat’s backside…

“That has to be more fun than working out in a gym, eh laddie?”

 

Ok, so that was picking a pocket. But I still prefer the phrase lifting.

 

As in the solid silver Cartier watch, and the loosely worn emerald gemstone cocktail ring I lifted off two of the three watchers as we giggled together, and I happily stroked my fingers along their too soft sleek gowned, giggly warm, unsuspecting bodies.

 

With three scores now under my belt, my fingers deliciously tingled as I continued meandering my way amongst the happily partying guests, biding my time as I enjoyed the showy glamour of the reception halls’ guests.

 

The first dance time for the Bride and her Consort came.

 

Lights dimmed.

 

I began pressing up from behind against the couples in front. Seeing a sea of arms wrapped around silken waistlines. I eased off a man’s Rolex from his wrist as he held it against his wife’s satin-gowned waist. Similarly, I then relieved a lady’s gloved wrist of a gold jewelled bracelet as I pressed the fingers of my free hand against the side of her delightfully tingling feeling taffeta gown. My apologies to her were accepted as my other hand pocketed the bracelet.

 

Then as the wedding party held the floor, another hip pocket of a male watcher was relieved of a fat billfold.

 

Two picks and a lift for you language police out there.

 

Then the dance area, with the lights still dimmed, erupted as couples swarmed onto the floor. I went with the flow. Lifting a plump wallet from a swinging purse in the process as I cut through.

 

I then stationed myself in the outskirts watching the dancers. A fast dance tune started up and many of the men retreated leaving mostly ladies in shiny flowing gowns and swinging long shimmery skirts gyrating and jostling to the fast beat.

 

I spotted a lady wearing a taffeta gown with a diamond broach holding at the side of her waist.

 

I started to swing to the beat myself, wading in.

 

I worked my way to her, passing in the process the two sweet sixteen-year-olds and their swinging ropes of pearls. Brushing alongside them I spotted my prey. I zeroed in and jostled against her sweaty figure. Managing to easily pluck off her pricey broach as I slipped past.

 

Love the feel of an expensive taffeta gown.

 

I briefly considered leaving at that point. But there was still one traditional part of the reception I was waiting for, the Bride’s Bouquet throw.

 

Think of the potential.

 

A group of jostling, well-dressed ladies all focused on one thing. With someone like myself focused on another. There is no other opportunity like this, with the possible exception of midnight on New Year’s when the lights are dimmed over a swarming sea of guests.

 

So I behaved myself, catching a smoke and a free drink as I waited with anticipation.

 

Finally, it was announced and all of us single girls went out onto the dance floor.

 

I watched and like a lioness in the bush, circled around in the back.

 

I saw a young lady of twelve coming out to take part. She was a darling, dollied and dressed up like an adult. She was wearing blue mascara, that matched the colour of the long flowing blue satin gown she adorably was wearing. A fancy Long rhinestone necklace of diamonds and sapphires, were glistening down the front of her gown as she boldly made her way in.

 

When she passed me I cut her off and bumped right into her. As she wobbled on her blue leather pumps, my right hand shot up, lifting the front of her necklace as my left unsnapped the simple clasp. I pulled her necklace off with my right hand as she went off an apologetic ”Sorry miss ” like it had been her fault.

 

I had taken her necklace because I felt peeved that anyone not of marrying age would feel she should be allowed to take part, spoiling the tradition. Like having a cap and gown graduation for preschoolers, complete with diplomas. Kinda of ruins the meaning for those of us graduating after long years of schooling.

 

Sorry, but really, was a twelve-year-old going to be the one to marry next?

 

Oh by the by, the young girl's obviously wealthy mum was not wearing jewellery, otherwise, I would have targeted her instead to make my silent point.

 

So after that random encounter, I went back on the prowl, quickly choosing a likely victim and legitimately eligible participant.

 

I happily positioned myself.

 

The girl I had chosen was a tall thin blonde tightly encased in a white silk dress. Her jewels consisted mostly of 14K gold chains. Except for a gold tennis bracelet set with diamonds and rubies which is what I had my sights on.

 

Then, who should pop up next to the blonde? Why it was the short brunette wearing that simply lovely green velvet and taffeta gown like the one I had back in my closet at the flat.

 

Also wearing that delectable dazzling pendant.

 

I had not seen her since I had first started to follow her, and truth be told, had almost forgotten all about her.

 

I immediately wedged against the girl next to me(a nice lady in a silk gown with pearls) and got behind the brunette

 

The brunette chick's hair was still up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore, with that expensively flashy jewelled pendant at its bottom. She was short, the neckline of her gown coming up to my chin. It was now all a matter of timing.

 

As the bridal bouquet of roses was thrown and everyone lunged forward my fingers snaked up the backside of her soft gown and reaching the necklace I lifted the clasp and with a perfectly executed lift, opened it, slipping off her necklace almost before her high-heeled feet were firmly back on the ground.

 

I pulled away with my prize. And she with hers, for my victim had actually been the one catching the bouquet.

 

I turned, almost bumping into the pair of sweet sixteens in the satin bridesmaids' gowns who had been standing off to one side of us trying their luck at catching the bouquet.

 

We exchanged smiles and actually started walking off in the same direction. I pulled back and discreetly followed them.

 

Watching with interest as their gowns were richly fluttering along their svelte youthfully pointed figures. They then entered the same back corridor where I had first encountered them.

 

I saw one pulling out a pack of cigarettes as they whispered between themselves.

 

Happily, I overheard that they were sneaking off for a smoke.

 

For I saw opportunity knocking.

 

Following the girls I stood at the door of the loo as they slipped out the back door.

 

I turned and followed.

 

I was anticipating a chance to use their fear of being caught by me outside smoking, to allow me to chum right in and once I told them I saw no reason why they shouldn’t be smoking, receive relieved hugs from them as I left. Relieving each of them in turn by trimming off some of their pearled baubles.

 

At least that was the scenario that played out in my head.

 

One that had worked for me before. Except for that last time, three well-dressed younger ladies had been outside sneaking drinks from a flask. A pair of diamond earrings, a gold braided necklace, and a stunning diamond pin, had been my relieving picks from them.

  

So deciding that an opportunity for a pearl lift may be at hand I circled out and just followed the giggling and smoke signals emitting from their hidden roost.

 

I maneuvered up, unseen, behind them. And once again, I was that lioness hidden in the bush, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

  

As I waited, watching their adorably gowned and pearled figures as they giggled and gabbed on freely, I easily overheard the pair of sweet ones talking about their planned sleepover at the one girl's house.

 

The pretty pair were going to be alone since both parents were staying overnight at the hotel next to the reception.

 

I thought to myself how lovely it would be to burgle that house. To acquire all of the girl's delicious pearls, and possibly more?!

 

Then an epiphany as new as it was intriguing shot into my mind.

 

Why not try it?

 

I already had a nice haul for the evening. So if I could not pull it off I stood to lose nothing.

 

It was a gamble I was willing to take.

 

I stood there and watched, listened until the pair finished and swished their way back inside, none the wiser that they(and their pricy jewellery)had been watched in close proximity by a thief.

  

In a total bit of whimsy I went back to my sports coupe parked across an empty street from the lot. Once there I lit a cigarette of my own and stood vigil over the back parking lot.

 

There I could see several fancy cars parked. Including the fire-red Porsche that I had learned the one girl would be driving herself and her friend home in for their sleepover. The sports car was a sixteenth birthday gift from her parents.

 

All I received on my sweet sixteen was a summons to the head mistress’s office.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

It was nearly two hours before I spied the fetchingly pretty pair walking out across that parking lot, smoking cigarettes like petite geysers.

 

They were vulnerably alone, their shiny long gowns flowing along svelte youthful figures with an air of elegance that called out to be noticed.

 

And with those gorgeous pearls, they were wearing, both clueless chicks presented a pair of prettily attired targets for a thief.

 

Fortunately, there were no muggers around. Only me, a thief with quite different aspirations on acquiring pearls this evening.

 

Seeing the girls leaving I got in my coupe and followed the red Porsche as it turned the corner.

 

It was easy to follow them. The driver was inexperienced enough not to have a lead foot.

  

The Porsche finally turned into the secluded driveway leading to a large two-story gothic stone structure, with small balconies outside the upper floor windows. As was a common sight with these large houses, a metal flower trellis reached up one side in between two balconies.

 

I found a place to pull over and quickly got out to sneak up and scout the grounds surrounding the house.

 

I saw a light go on upstairs, conveniently on the trellis side. Thankful my dress was tightly form-fitting, I went over and climbed up far enough to peek inside the upper-floor window

 

It was a bedroom, walls painted pink. Both girls were inside, starting to undress. Totally so into themselves that the pretty things had no idea a thief was eyeing them with sinister intent.

 

Licking my lips I watched the pair removing thier delicious pearls and piling them up on the vanity next to an open oak jewellery case, the contents shimmering in the light.

 

Then they pulled off their gloves and slipped out of their gowns, wearing only long slinking silk slips. Both girls, long hair now down, slipped into fancy satin robes and giggling, headed out the door.

 

I slipped back down the trellis and skirted the house. A light in the basement came on.

 

Crouching in the shadows I peeked in. The handsomely satin-wrapped pair were sitting on a couch in the furnished basement. Passing back and forth a clear bottle containing an amber-coloured liquor. Scotch I presumed.

 

Seeing they were becoming quickly intoxicated, I rose and with a feeling of utter confidence, went back to the trellis and climbed back up to the window.

 

It was conveniently left unlatched.

 

Piece of cake this burgling business apparently could be.

 

Turned out, It was a piece of cake.

 

Beginner’s luck, we’ll see.

 

I slipped over the sill and into the bedroom they had changed in.

 

The young lady's pearls piled on a vanity, next to the open jewellery case were my first target.

 

As the clueless young pair in the furnished basement was getting drunk, I put on a pair of satin evening gloves found on one of the gowns and lifted(or picked) the bedroom clean of valuables.

 

No persnickety housemaid could have done a more efficient job of picking clean that bedroom, or as quickly, as I did that early morning.

 

Then I left the room to hit the parent’s master bedroom.

 

It was the one on the opposite side of the hallway.

 

Inside I found a tall Jewelry Armoire. I opened it up and my eyes were dazzled by the display of pricy day jewelry it held. Or had held for another ten minutes until I emptied its contents into my already bulging purse.

 

I knew the mum would be wearing the good stuff at the wedding, the rest may be inside a safe, which was beyond my skill level in picking.

 

I briefly wondered if the owner of the red Porsche knew her parent's safe combination.

 

I thought of taking the time to find out. But shook my head no. Time to skedaddle.

 

Then I saw it. In my rush, I had almost missed a solitary piece of jewellery laying out on a nightstand.

 

It was a dazzler. An almost 7-centimeter wide bracelet, set with 7 strands of diamonds. Three strands of round stones each flanking a centre strand of pear-shaped stones. Vulgarly expensive.

 

But why was it out? A trap?

 

I edged up to the nightstand and looked around. Nothing else appeared out of place.

 

Except for that expensively flashy diamond bracelet.

 

Looking around, I carefully eased it off the nightstand. Nothing happened, not that I knew what could have happened.

 

I stuffed the bracelet inside my purse, still looking warily around.

 

I shrugged my feelings of danger off and left the room. Though perhaps a tad bit quicker than necessary.

 

I went back to the pink bedroom, then climbed back out the window and down the metal trellis

 

I stopped by the basement window for one last peek. The young shiny attired darlings were intensely hugging each other. The bottle of scotch was now almost empty.

 

Suddenly a naughty picture popped inside my head, with no proper rhyme, nor reason.

 

In that picture, I saw the pair still dressed voluptuously up in their satin gowns, tied up gagged, and sinister hands groping as the haplessly squirming sweet sixteeners were being relieved of pearls. Then long feminine fingers were tickling in the girl’s sensitive areas until a safe opening combination was coughed up.

 

It was a picture that would not go away. I shook my head to get them out and left.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I ruined the dress I was wearing, but I realized I had gotten away with enough small pricey valuables that gave me a profit that more than doubled my pickings combined over the previous 4 months.

 

As I drove home I experienced such a rush of euphoria that I decided the experience just had to be relived.

 

When I got back to my rooms, I changed into my satin pjs and empty my purse onto the black satin sheets of my bed.

 

I lifted the pearls and couldn’t stop fingering them as my euphoria overwhelmed me with sweeping hot flashes of giddiness over my accomplishments.

 

It was a lovely feeling. Both sensuous and a bit of hard sexual desires.

 

Not really sure where the bound and gagged fantasy picture came from. Or what it was foretelling if anything.

 

But the reality of tonight’s experience lay in glittering heaps on my black satin sheets.

 

I picked up the far to valuably shimmering diamond bracelet.

 

Pondering.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

I bring that last memory up because years later I may have found out why the diamond bracelet had been left out.

 

For apparently some of the ultra-wealthy, as a ruse, will leave out several pieces of valuable jewels as a deterrent. Hoping the inexperienced thief will grab those and flee without searching further. Which is exactly what I did.

 

It also means that those two sweet sixteeners may have been the only barrier between me and a potentially small fortune in hidden jewels.

 

So maybe that fantasy vision I had about tickling to find a safe combination could have been an unrealized sixth sense moment?

 

One never knows.

 

Fini

 

6537 2017 03 11 file

Chrysler 300C plate

Viewed @ Coffee & Cars Event

Lawton, OK

Descriptive name, not much guess where it is from or what it does.

The Disconcerting

 

Part 1

Midnight Shadows

 

Maybe is because of the specific role-play games my twin and I grew up playing. Maybe it’s also because of My love of dressing up in elegant attire and the wearing of jewellery. Or just maybe I am one of those mystic magnets of a soul that attracts this sort of thing to happen?

 

I had actually written this one out a year after it happened because someone suggested to me to do so, but wish now I had done so right after it happened so I would have a more descriptive memory of it.

 

It’s brief because the actual incident as it played out, happened so fast that it all was such a blur, there are no real recollections as far as detailed descriptions go.

 

Not even sure if it fits in with this collection of stories based on role play and similar games from youth and young adulthood.

 

For it may have been a game, but it certainly was not one of ours.

 

££££££££££

 

This rather harrowing experience occurred on the evening of a fancy dress Girl’s only party I attended some years ago.

 

My twin brother I were 22 years old at the time, as was my best friend Ginny.

 

The party mentioned was a BAFTA themed get together held in the nearby city.

 

Ginny and I were both attired for the party as though we were attending the real thing, which was the idea. And we were not alone in dressing up like that.

 

For at this annual party held by a university chum’s older sister, everyone attending was mandated to dress up like an actress attending the awards ceremony.

 

Ginny, as always when she does fancy proper, was drop-dead gorgeous.

 

She looked smashing, poured into her shimmering, off one shoulder gown of thin silk, silver with copper threads woven in. The gown really had a nice sexy fluid flow as she moved. Long elbow-length gloves of a dark copper satin, finished the effect.

 

She was wearing her good earrings. A pierced ear style set with real diamonds(1/2 Carat diamond with a dangling a pear-shaped 1 1/2 carat diamond), a diamond rhinestone choker, a matching rhinestone bracelet, and two cocktail rings. The 2 carat earrings and one of her rings were real, the rest good quality antique rhinestones.

 

Her silky hair, a darker natural red than mine, was worn up with an elegant bun held with a long silver clip on one side. Several strands purposely fell alongside her freckled face, adding a rather far too cute effect.

 

Myself, I was wearing a pretty party dress of Mum’s. One that I (and Papa) felt she looked breathtakingly beautiful wearing it on a night out.

 

It was a solid coloured sky blue taffeta dress that shone with a tight sleekness down along my figure. Maybe a bit too tight for it outlined my every curve, making me look sexier than I knew I was. The skirt was higher in front( touching just below my knees) than in the back where it swished a few inches above my ankles and my deep blue silk stiletto heels. The neckline of the dress was of a long open scoop and had wavy ruffles running along with its opening, the sleeves went to my elbows, ending in ruffles. With it, I was also wearing deep blue 3/4 length satin gloves.

 

For jewellery, I wore mum’s full set of enticingly sparkling rhinestones. The pricey imitation diamonds that Papa teased he needed sunglasses to look at her whenever Mum wore them out, which was a lot.

 

The centerpiece of the set was undoubtedly the long glittery necklace that looked like an upside-down,loosely attached, elongated pyramid filled with blazing diamond-like stones.

This eye-catcher hung down low along the open neck of the dress, swaying a few inches up from my (small)cleavage.

 

The set also had a matching bracelet, long earrings, and a ring. I added two more of my real gemstone rings for effect.

 

My own freshly washed long, naturally red hair was pulled back in a plait and I had a thin diamond chip encrusted silver Tiara to hold it all in place.

 

Please get a good mental picture of how Ginny and I were dressed up for the affair before reading on( and I hope you will read on) it should add a little clarity to the story.

  

Part 2

Midnight Ball (Faux)

 

To fit in with the party theme my twin brother actually was able to again borrow papa’s friend’s elegant antique car. An old dark purple Rolls Royce.

 

My brother dressed the part as a chauffeur( at Ginny and my puppy-eyed request), wearing a suit, formal shirt, and bow tie. He refused to wear the white gloves or hat though.

 

He thoroughly was into playing his role, opening the door for each of us as we were helped into the back, with him sitting alone upfront.

 

The party was at a house 30 minutes away in the city, with about 25 guests expected to attend.

 

All of whom had gone wild with their fancy dress ideas.

 

Gowns and formal dresses, many of which were old bridesmaids affairs, flowed, shined, and shimmered along with our fellow guest's youthful female figures.

 

Copious amounts of Gemstones, mostly rhinestone with more than a few real ones, were glittering with amazing brilliance from their mistresses.

 

As you can imagine, I was really into that atmosphere and it was really for me, a quite enjoyable and engaging experience.

 

The party itself was a lot of fun and very enjoyable for all in attendance. This was the pre-cell phone era, so we all were quite focused on the party.

 

On and off we watched the awards show, but the main attraction was the drinking and guessing games we played.

 

We also had a fashion show with a makeshift red carpet that everyone did a catwalk along.

 

My mum’s rhinestone attracted a lot of notice, they sparkled so much.

 

And yes, once when mum was wearing them out a lady actually asked if they were real. We all had a good laugh over that.

 

My brother and even Ginny commented on how they would sparkle in the city street lamps as we drove under them on the way in.

 

By the time the party was winding down we all

were feeling pretty well lit, and very huggy.

 

All too soon it was time to go.

 

After my twin brother had dropped us off, he waiting for us at the riverside pub named Poet and the Peasant.

 

He told us to call at the pub and then wait inside the house for him to arrive. The neighborhood was nice enough, but still, it was the city, so he felt more comfortable if we were to not be out wandering.

 

He would honk the Roll’s horn at the curb to let us know when he was there.

 

We called from the house after midnight when ready and he told us he’d be there in about 15 minutes after leaving the pub where he was playing darts with a few lads.

 

We had told others about the Rolls Royce, and some had asked to see it. So, ignoring my brother’s request, we all gathered outside to wait.

 

Twenty minutes later my brother drove up, spying our group he honked the horn as he pulled up curbside.

 

Playing the part in front of so many well-dressed ladies, my brother was in his glory as helped each of us slip into the back seat of the rolls Royce, closing our doors like a gentleman, before hopping back in the driver's seat to take us home. Honking the horn again to the few remaining jealous admirers who waved us on.

 

We felt like real movie stars at that.

 

And like real movie stars, we soon had a following.

  

Part 3

Midnight Followers

 

It was after my brother turned off the street where the party house was located, that he first noticed the red auto behind us.

 

He was not sure where it had come from, but, something he could never put a finger on, made him think that it was a deliberate appearance

 

The red auto, keeping about two car lengths behind, began to match my brother’s turns as he began to take his usual way home. The car never signaled its turns he noticed.

 

Not saying anything to us chattering away in the back leather seats, he turned off into a side street at random to see what would happen. The auto turned down the same street following, again no turn signal.

 

My brother then turned down another street and pulled the Rolls over midway along it, stopping at the curb directly in front of a house, so the auto could pass if he also turned In behind.

 

It did come around the same corner, but instead of passing the parked Rolls, the red auto ominously pulled to the curb about three houses behind us, leaving its lights on.

 

Ginny and I had been chatting happily in the back seat, my brother stopping the Rolls Royce first drew our attention that something was up.

 

When asked what’s going on, he said that he thinks someone in an automobile is following us.

 

We laughed at him, thinking he was trying to play games with us.

 

On the way to the party, he kept teasing us on how sparkly our jewels were in the rearview mirror when illuminated by street lights.

 

I had snickered saying

“it’s a good thing your here to protect us then Luv.”

 

He had looked back at me with a wicked smile in his eyes. “Ah, true lass, but what if I was a thief in disguise?”

 

So now we both thought he was just trying to put a scare into us playing off on those remarks.

 

Not smiling at our taunts, he sternly told us to just turn around and watch the auto parked down the road with the headlights on.

  

Part 4

Midnight Apprehension

  

We both turned in our seats, surprised to see that he was right.

 

“Who do you think it is?” Ginny asked reasonably.

 

“Really don’t know, Luv?” He answered putting the Rolls in gear.

 

He pulled away, and after a few seconds so did the auto with the headlights on.

 

My brother then took two more random turns down roads and we realized he was really telling the bloody truth.

 

We knew then it wasn’t something my brother had dreamed up as role-play with his lads. He would not stoop this low and besides, to tell the truth, he was not all that good of an actor to pull it off.

 

The auto kept pace, matching

us turn for turn.

 

I would think by then whoever was in the red Auto knew that we realized they were tailing us. But they still kept following.

 

I remember as we watched from the back, Ginny and I turning to look at each other, both of us not really knowing what to do if even there was anything we could have done?

 

I can also clearly recollect how Ginny’s diamond earrings were glimmering as I looked into her concerned face. But bit my tongue.

 

I did not want to alarm her with my thoughts. Knowing how expensive her earrings were. That, plus the fact most of the jewellery I was wearing belonged to Mum, really gave me worries. Still, I knew Ginny was also harboring similar unsaid concerns.

 

Neither of us daring to give voice to those worries, lest it became a reality.

 

But two elegantly clad young ladies being driven around inside a Rolls Royce with a chauffeur at the wheel could say the least, easily attract notice. Something we had not given any thought to as we planned out this evening.

 

Inviting attention, both when arriving in the city, and as well as when they were leaving it.

 

Both of us turned back to look out the window.

 

Again watching the bright headlights, I shuddered at another thought that popped into my head.

 

What if the occupants of the red auto had followed us in, and while we were enjoying the party, had been waiting patiently for us to leave it?

 

That really creeped me out and I shivered.

 

My brother, silent with unspoken worries of his own, was keeping to the well lit, residential streets while trying to think of how to get out of this if he needed to.

 

It could be just two joyriders doing this on a lark after all.

 

A second issue was that the big Rolls Royce was a lumbering beast not made to outspeed pursuit.

 

Then there was a third issue: He also did not want to lead our shadowers near to where Ginny or we both lived.

 

We still lived in a rambling country cottage with my parents. Ginny lived a few houses over in the old stone house that had once been a summer home for a large, prewar, estate owner.

 

Not voicing any of these concerns to his passengers, my brother stayed in the city, which he knew quite well.

 

Turning up a boulevard he saw a traffic light ahead.

 

We pulled up to it and the Red Auto stopped about a car length back.

 

We could make out the shadowy figures of two unmistakable males, talking to each other as they were pointing fingers.

 

They were not just pointing at us, but past us. That gave me the creeps as I told my brother what the occupants were doing.

 

The light turned green, and without signaling, he turned the Rolls to the right, entering a Main Street.

 

The red auto did the same, not signaling either.

 

Approaching another light as it was turning red, my brother ran it, cutting off a lurching double-decker just coming into the intersection.

 

As we received a blast of horns for our transgression, my brother shifted into a higher gear and forced the whining old Rolls into its top speed.

 

All I remember at that point, was thinking we were not going fast enough at all.

 

But this maneuver held up the red auto only long enough for us to turn down an alley between two businesses about 3/4 of a block past the red light. I was watching our rear and I knew the red auto, just leaving the intersection, had seen us turn.

 

My brother knew that the alleys on this street all let out onto a road that ran along the grounds of a rugby stadium.

 

There were street lamps on the opposite side of the road from the stadium. There were no lights on at all on the stadium side, making the area darker at night than India ink.

 

We pulled out of the alleyway without seeing any following headlights yet coming in behind us.

 

“There is usually a patrol car parked along the stadium at night, “my brother said.

 

“Keep an eye out”

 

But of course, tonight was the exception, no cars were parked there.

 

I was looking back at the alleyway we had left and I saw headlights casting along the brick walls.

 

I gave warning, but it came out as a girlish shriek.

 

“I see it.” My brother said, he had killed the headlights and was already turning into the exit end of the stadium’s long parking lot

 

My twin pulled the Rolls under the shadows of some trees that lined the inner side of the parking lot, facing the way we had come.

 

We all scrunched down and waited.

  

Part 5

Midnight Escape

 

A few very long seconds later, the red auto, driving slowly, appeared at the end of the alley and stopped.

 

Then, without signal,

it slowly turned off onto the street and started going in the opposite direction, at a crawl.

 

Looking For our Rolls Royce we probably rightly suspected.

 

Our hearts were pounding and I believe we were all holding our breaths with disquieting

trepidation.

 

The red auto went down past that end of the stadium.

 

My heart leaped into my throat as I put a hand to my beating breasts, watching it turn up the next street leading back to the intersection with the red light we had blown through.

 

My brother put in the clutch, keeping the headlamps off, he slowly turned the auto around.

 

Ginny and I sat up and watched behind us.

 

We turned off the parking lot went back the opposite of where our pursuers had gone.

 

Once in the street my brother turned on the headlamps and gave the old engine some gas. We turned up the next street and then some side streets.

 

Nervously we watched the streets behind us. But only saw a few headlights coming on the road, and they were all false alarms.

 

Finally circling around we made it back to the Main Street that led to the highway turnoff.

 

Nervously all three of us scanned the cars parked along both sides of the streets. But no one pulled out behind us that seemingly going on forever stretch of road.

 

Apparently, we had lost our shadower’s in the red auto.

 

We made it to the turnoff without further mischief befalling us and went onto the highway and headed back home.

 

We never saw the red auto again.

 

Ginny and I were spending the rest of the weekend in her basemen bedroom at her house, her parents bring out of town.

 

Neither of us was ashamed to admit we accepted my brother’s offer to spend the night upstairs.

 

When we got to her place, Ginny helped us raid Uncle’s small bar in the basement. We sat up for the rest of the early morning, still fully dressed, talking it over.

 

We all believed was no lark, hoax, or a joke being played on us. The occupants of that red auto seemed all too intent on something.

 

To this very day, none of us have any real idea of what that intent may have been, just only our speculation.

 

I do remember that we had come up with a whole gauntlet of theories before turning in.

 

But we are all quite ok with not finding out which theory was the correct one that night.

 

And Like me, I’m sure we all finally drifted off to sleep considering what may have played out if...?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Would love to hear thoughts on this in the comments below. Especially if anyone has ever had a similar experience.

   

A truly descriptive name for this tree...no? I would say that these trees are responsible for 90% of the leaf color around here. The moss and lichens provide lots of landing spots.The mosses look like another whole miniature forest.

As generic a scooter as it gets.

 

When I spotted that scooter, I couldn't help but think of the generic groceries fad of the late 1970s through the 1980s, made famous by the Southern California (USA) chain, Ralphs. The basic packaging design was such a pop-culture sensation in its day; one rock group parodied the theme in a 1986 release variously named for the formats one could purchase, as well as two versions of a single released from the album.

"Between bears" may be descriptive of how I've been the last few months (life's getting better of late). The actual meaning here, however, is a bit different, but if you know anything about constellations, you'll figure it out. This is Bodie Island Lighthouse at North Carolina's Outer Banks... and if you'll notice, it's not quite living up to its function. The lighthouse has been going through a long overdue series of renovations, including structural metal repair, new paint, and polishing and restoration of the Fresnel lens and lighting system (which may have been damaged during Hurricane Irene in August of 2011). From what I've been able to understand, completion is due in April. Until that time, It makes an outstanding foreground for a myriad of stars.

 

One of my contacts, Kevin Dempsey, is a school teacher in the remote Ojibway Nation of Saugeen in northern Ontario. It's obviously so far back in the sticks they have to pipe in sunshine there... but the upside is that he's able to get some of the finest night sky pictures without light pollution from manmade sources... that has inspired me to find some dark, though brilliantly starlit areas here in North Carolina to put to the lens. I'm still trying to nail down exposure rates... I want to keep them at 20 seconds so the rotational effects aren't evident. I'm getting there. There's still the issue of extraneous light in this image, though here it seems to work.

 

Please take a look at Kevin's photostream for his impressions of Canada and those of his recent trip to Iceland, as well as his wonderful night shots of stars and aurora: my2boggan

Self descriptive. It´s been a while since I upload something here. I can't believe it's just a pic of onions. I do like bipolar compositions.

Descriptive catalogue of the nests & eggs of birds found breeding in Australia and Tasmania /

Sydney :F.W. White, general printer,1889.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/57793283

“Color is descriptive. Black and white is interpretive.”

Midnight Shadows

Part 1

 

Maybe is because of the specific role-play games my twin and I grew up playing. Maybe it’s also because of My love of dressing up in elegant attire and the wearing of jewellery. Or just maybe I am one of those mystic magnets of a soul that attracts this sort of thing to happen?

 

I had actually written this one out a year after it happened because someone suggested to me to do so, but wish now I had done so right after it happened so I would have a more descriptive memory of it.

 

It’s brief because the actual incident as it played out, happened so fast that it all was such a blur, there are no real recollections as far as detailed descriptions go.

 

Not even sure if it fits in with this collection of stories based on role play and similar games from youth and young adulthood.

 

For it may have been a game, but it certainly was not one of ours.

 

££££££££££

 

This rather harrowing experience occurred on the evening of a fancy dress Girl’s only party I attended some years ago.

 

My twin brother I were 22 years old at the time, as was my best friend Ginny.

 

The party mentioned was a BAFTA themed get together held in the nearby city.

 

Ginny and I were both attired for the party as though we were attending the real thing, which was the idea. And we were not alone in dressing up like that.

 

For at this annual party held by a university chum’s older sister, everyone attending was mandated to dress up like an actress attending the awards ceremony.

 

Ginny, as always when she does fancy proper, was drop-dead gorgeous.

 

She looked smashing, poured into her shimmering, off one shoulder gown of thin silk, silver with copper threads woven in. The gown really had a nice sexy fluid flow as she moved. Long elbow-length gloves of a dark copper satin, finished the effect.

 

She was wearing her good earrings. A pierced ear style set with real diamonds(1/2 Carat diamond with a dangling a pear-shaped 1 1/2 carat diamond), a diamond rhinestone choker, a matching rhinestone bracelet, and two cocktail rings. The 2 carat earrings and one of her rings were real, the rest good quality antique rhinestones.

 

Her silky hair, a darker natural red than mine, was worn up with an elegant bun held with a long silver clip on one side. Several strands purposely fell alongside her freckled face, adding a rather far too cute effect.

 

Myself, I was wearing a pretty party dress of Mum’s. One that I (and Papa) felt she looked breathtakingly beautiful wearing it on a night out.

 

It was a solid coloured sky blue taffeta dress that shone with a tight sleekness down along my figure. Maybe a bit too tight for it outlined my every curve, making me look sexier than I knew I was. The skirt was higher in front( touching just below my knees) than in the back where it swished a few inches above my ankles and my deep blue silk stiletto heels. The neckline of the dress was of a long open scoop and had wavy ruffles running along with its opening, the sleeves went to my elbows, ending in ruffles. With it, I was also wearing deep blue 3/4 length satin gloves.

 

For jewellery, I wore mum’s full set of enticingly sparkling rhinestones. The pricey imitation diamonds that Papa teased he needed sunglasses to look at her whenever Mum wore them out, which was a lot.

 

The centerpiece of the set was undoubtedly the long glittery necklace that looked like an upside-down,loosely attached, elongated pyramid filled with blazing diamond-like stones.

This eye-catcher hung down low along the open neck of the dress, swaying a few inches up from my (small)cleavage.

 

The set also had a matching bracelet, long earrings, and a ring. I added two more of my real gemstone rings for effect.

 

My own freshly washed long, naturally red hair was pulled back in a plait and I had a thin diamond chip encrusted silver Tiara to hold it all in place.

 

Please get a good mental picture of how Ginny and I were dressed up for the affair before reading on( and I hope you will read on) it should add a little clarity to the story.

  

Midnight Shadows

Part 2

  

To fit in with the party theme my twin brother actually was able to again borrow papa’s friend’s elegant antique car. An old dark purple Rolls Royce.

 

My brother dressed the part as a chauffeur( at Ginny and my puppy-eyed request), wearing a suit, formal shirt, and bow tie. He refused to wear the white gloves or hat though.

 

He thoroughly was into playing his role, opening the door for each of us as we were helped into the back, with him sitting alone upfront.

 

The party was at a house 30 minutes away in the city, with about 25 guests expected to attend.

 

All of whom had gone wild with their fancy dress ideas.

 

Gowns and formal dresses, many of which were old bridesmaids affairs, flowed, shined, and shimmered along with our fellow guest's youthful female figures.

 

Copious amounts of Gemstones, mostly rhinestone with more than a few real ones, were glittering with amazing brilliance from their mistresses.

 

As you can imagine, I was really into that atmosphere and it was really for me, a quite enjoyable and engaging experience.

 

The party itself was a lot of fun and very enjoyable for all in attendance. This was the pre-cell phone era, so we all were quite focused on the party.

 

On and off we watched the awards show, but the main attraction was the drinking and guessing games we played.

 

We also had a fashion show with a makeshift red carpet that everyone did a catwalk along.

 

My mum’s rhinestone attracted a lot of notice, they sparkled so much.

 

And yes, once when mum was wearing them out a lady actually asked if they were real. We all had a good laugh over that.

 

My brother and even Ginny commented on how they would sparkle in the city street lamps as we drove under them on the way in.

 

By the time the party was winding down we all

were feeling pretty well lit, and very huggy.

 

All too soon it was time to go.

 

After my twin brother had dropped us off, he waiting for us at the riverside pub named Poet and the Peasant.

 

He told us to call at the pub and then wait inside the house for him to arrive. The neighborhood was nice enough, but still, it was the city, so he felt more comfortable if we were to not be out wandering.

 

He would honk the Roll’s horn at the curb to let us know when he was there.

 

We called from the house after midnight when ready and he told us he’d be there in about 15 minutes after leaving the pub where he was playing darts with a few lads.

 

We had told others about the Rolls Royce, and some had asked to see it. So, ignoring my brother’s request, we all gathered outside to wait.

 

Twenty minutes later my brother drove up, spying our group he honked the horn as he pulled up curbside.

 

Playing the part in front of so many well-dressed ladies, my brother was in his glory as helped each of us slip into the back seat of the rolls Royce, closing our doors like a gentleman, before hopping back in the driver's seat to take us home. Honking the horn again to the few remaining jealous admirers who waved us on.

 

We felt like real movie stars at that.

 

And like real movie stars, we soon had a following.

  

Midnight Shadows

Part 3

 

It was after my brother turned off the street where the party house was located, that he first noticed the red auto behind us.

 

He was not sure where it had come from, but, something he could never put a finger on, made him think that it was a deliberate appearance

 

The red auto, keeping about two car lengths behind, began to match my brother’s turns as he began to take his usual way home. The car never signaled its turns he noticed.

 

Not saying anything to us chattering away in the back leather seats, he turned off into a side street at random to see what would happen. The auto turned down the same street following, again no turn signal.

 

My brother then turned down another street and pulled the Rolls over midway along it, stopping at the curb directly in front of a house, so the auto could pass if he also turned In behind.

 

It did come around the same corner, but instead of passing the parked Rolls, the red auto ominously pulled to the curb about three houses behind us, leaving its lights on.

 

Ginny and I had been chatting happily in the back seat, my brother stopping the Rolls Royce first drew our attention that something was up.

 

When asked what’s going on, he said that he thinks someone in an automobile is following us.

 

We laughed at him, thinking he was trying to play games with us.

 

On the way to the party, he kept teasing us on how sparkly our jewels were in the rearview mirror when illuminated by street lights.

 

I had snickered saying

“it’s a good thing your here to protect us then Luv.”

 

He had looked back at me with a wicked smile in his eyes. “Ah, true lass, but what if I was a thief in disguise?”

 

So now we both thought he was just trying to put a scare into us playing off on those remarks.

 

Not smiling at our taunts, he sternly told us to just turn around and watch the auto parked down the road with the headlights on.

  

Midnight Shadows

Part 4

  

We both turned in our seats, surprised to see that he was right.

 

“Who do you think it is?” Ginny asked reasonably.

 

“Really don’t know, Luv?” He answered putting the Rolls in gear.

 

He pulled away, and after a few seconds so did the auto with the headlights on.

 

My brother then took two more random turns down roads and we realized he was really telling the bloody truth.

 

We knew then it wasn’t something my brother had dreamed up as role-play with his lads. He would not stoop this low and besides, to tell the truth, he was not all that good of an actor to pull it off.

 

The auto kept pace, matching

us turn for turn.

 

I would think by then whoever was in the red Auto knew that we realized they were tailing us. But they still kept following.

 

I remember as we watched from the back, Ginny and I turning to look at each other, both of us not really knowing what to do if even there was anything we could have done?

 

I can also clearly recollect how Ginny’s diamond earrings were glimmering as I looked into her concerned face. But bit my tongue.

 

I did not want to alarm her with my thoughts. Knowing how expensive her earrings were. That, plus the fact most of the jewellery I was wearing belonged to Mum, really gave me worries. Still, I knew Ginny was also harboring similar unsaid concerns.

 

Neither of us daring to give voice to those worries, lest it became a reality.

 

But two elegantly clad young ladies being driven around inside a Rolls Royce with a chauffeur at the wheel could say the least, easily attract notice. Something we had not given any thought to as we planned out this evening.

 

Inviting attention, both when arriving in the city, and as well as when they were leaving it.

 

Both of us turned back to look out the window.

 

Again watching the bright headlights, I shuddered at another thought that popped into my head.

 

What if the occupants of the red auto had followed us in, and while we were enjoying the party, had been waiting patiently for us to leave it?

 

That really creeped me out and I shivered.

 

My brother, silent with unspoken worries of his own, was keeping to the well lit, residential streets while trying to think of how to get out of this if he needed to.

 

It could be just two joyriders doing this on a lark after all.

 

A second issue was that the big Rolls Royce was a lumbering beast not made to outspeed pursuit.

 

Then there was a third issue: He also did not want to lead our shadowers near to where Ginny or we both lived.

 

We still lived in a rambling country cottage with my parents. Ginny lived a few houses over in the old stone house that had once been a summer home for a large, prewar, estate owner.

 

Not voicing any of these concerns to his passengers, my brother stayed in the city, which he knew quite well.

 

Turning up a boulevard he saw a traffic light ahead.

 

We pulled up to it and the Red Auto stopped about a car length back.

 

We could make out the shadowy figures of two unmistakable males, talking to each other as they were pointing fingers.

 

They were not just pointing at us, but past us. That gave me the creeps as I told my brother what the occupants were doing.

 

The light turned green, and without signaling, he turned the Rolls to the right, entering a Main Street.

 

The red auto did the same, not signaling either.

 

Approaching another light as it was turning red, my brother ran it, cutting off a lurching double-decker just coming into the intersection.

 

As we received a blast of horns for our transgression, my brother shifted into a higher gear and forced the whining old Rolls into its top speed.

 

All I remember at that point, was thinking we were not going fast enough at all.

 

But this maneuver held up the red auto only long enough for us to turn down an alley between two businesses about 3/4 of a block past the red light. I was watching our rear and I knew the red auto, just leaving the intersection, had seen us turn.

 

My brother knew that the alleys on this street all let out onto a road that ran along the grounds of a rugby stadium.

 

There were street lamps on the opposite side of the road from the stadium. There were no lights on at all on the stadium side, making the area darker at night than India ink.

 

We pulled out of the alleyway without seeing any following headlights yet coming in behind us.

 

“There is usually a patrol car parked along the stadium at night, “my brother said.

 

“Keep an eye out”

 

But of course, tonight was the exception, no cars were parked there.

 

I was looking back at the alleyway we had left and I saw headlights casting along the brick walls.

 

I gave warning, but it came out as a girlish shriek.

 

“I see it.” My brother said, he had killed the headlights and was already turning into the exit end of the stadium’s long parking lot

 

My twin pulled the Rolls under the shadows of some trees that lined the inner side of the parking lot, facing the way we had come.

 

We all scrunched down and waited.

  

Midnight Shadows

Part 5

  

A few very long seconds later, the red auto, driving slowly, appeared at the end of the alley and stopped.

 

Then, without signal,

it slowly turned off onto the street and started going in the opposite direction, at a crawl.

 

Looking For our Rolls Royce we probably rightly suspected.

 

Our hearts were pounding and I believe we were all holding our breaths with disquieting

 

trepidation.

 

The red auto went down past that end of the stadium.

 

My heart leaped into my throat as I put a hand to my beating breasts, watching it turn up the next street leading back to the intersection with the red light we had blown through.

 

My brother put in the clutch, keeping the headlamps off, he slowly turned the auto around.

 

Ginny and I sat up and watched behind us.

 

We turned off the parking lot went back the opposite of where our pursuers had gone.

 

Once in the street my brother turned on the headlamps and gave the old engine some gas. We turned up the next street and then some side streets.

 

Nervously we watched the streets behind us. But only saw a few headlights coming on the road, and they were all false alarms.

 

Finally circling around we made it back to the Main Street that led to the highway turnoff.

 

Nervously all three of us scanned the cars parked along both sides of the streets. But no one pulled out behind us that seemingly going on forever stretch of road.

 

Apparently we had lost our shadowers in the red auto.

 

We made it to the turnoff without further mischief befalling us and went onto the highway and headed back home.

 

We never saw the red auto again.

 

Ginny and I were spending the rest of the weekend in her basemen bedroom at her house, her parents bring out of town.

 

Neither of us was ashamed to admit we accepted my brother’s offer to spend the night upstairs.

 

When we got to her place, Ginny helped us raid Uncle’s small bar in the basement. We sat up for the rest of the early morning, still fully dressed, talking it over.

 

We all believed was no lark, hoax, or a joke being played on us. The occupants of that red auto seemed all too intent on something.

 

To this very day, none of us have any real idea of what that intent may have been, just only our speculation.

 

I do remember that we had come up with a whole gauntlet of theories before turning in.

 

But we are all quite ok with not finding out which theory was the correct one that night.

 

And Like me, I’m sure we all finally drifted off to sleep considering what may have played out if...?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Would love to hear thoughts on this in the comments below. Especially if anyone has ever had a similar experience.

 

Sticker collaboration with Noke and Willy

Walt Disney World Resort

Seven Seas Lagoon/Bay Lake

Contemporary "Tempo Bay" Resort

 

Besides the rationale that it's the Walt Disney World resort with the most conference space, it seems logical that the Contemporary Resort was chosen as the location for Destination D because it's an opening day resort, and as such, has some of the greatest history surrounding it.

 

Here's one such story told to us by Marty Sklar. During the design phases of the resorts on the Seven Seas Lagoon (back when the Polynesian was set to be a tower, and the Persian and Venetian were still set to be built), one of the resorts was set to have a modern day American feel. No one in WED at the time could come up with a name for the resort, so they placed "contemporary resort" as a descriptive placeholder on the plans, never intending that to be the resort's name.

 

One day, at some meeting, it was suggested that the resort be given a more vibrant name, and the "Tempo Bay" resort was proposed. Roy O. Disney said, "what's wrong with the Contemporary Resort?!" And with that, it became, officially, the Contemporary Resort.

This whole 'title should be descriptive of photo contents' trend just doesn't cut it.

blog | 500px | facebook

Like the previous one, this is part of my series about how we relate to ourselves, which I have decided to name “foundation”.

I think the theme is quite obvious here and the title is also very descriptive. I believe we all tend to blame ourselves a little too much sometimes. It is an awful feeling that often leads to depression. I have seen many people around me blaming themselves for everything constantly and I have also felt it myself sometimes. Of course we should accept our responsibilies, but consuming ourselves with guilt is something completely different. The sooner we realize we are not perfect, the better.

Read more on my blog!

*picture of the day on fridge on 23/4/2014

Descriptive map of the Minecraft project a friend of mine and I have been building for the past 3 years and 3 months.

It is Rome as it was in the year 455 AD, at the scale of 1 block : 1 meter.

www.planetminecraft.com/project/roma-aeterna/

A descriptive account of the mammals of Borneo ...

London[Edward Abbott]1893.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/26209853

#84: As of 9/20/18, under Flickr's popularity rankings of my 1200+ pics, this is listed as #84 in "interestingness."

 

I've been engaging in some short, private crossdressing opportunities at home recently, after acquiring and trying out some new clothes, shoes, and accessories. This is the 439th pic posted from this recent CD activity, and taken just in March.

 

As usual, I really enjoy color-coordinating attractive/sexy/cute outfits, and this one features: Forever 21 taupe over-the-knee ultra-high-heel boots; an Emerald Sundae "vanilla powder" fit & flare lace sleeveless mini-dress with a plunging sweetheart neckline (from Macy's); a Forever 21 nude long-sleeve lace bodysuit; a Forever 21 taupe handbag; a beige floral scarf; and gold rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets.

 

More about this and other new 2017-18 pics was written up recently in a descriptive Update provided in my profile or "About" page here on Flickr. It details some choices made for these 2017-18 pics.

 

Let me know your thoughts... :-)

A Descriptive catalogue of the lepidopterous insects contained in the Museum of the honourable East-India company,

London,Published by Parbury, Allen, & Co.,1828-29.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/42030695

A Descriptive catalogue of the lepidopterous insects contained in the Museum of the honourable East-India company,

London,Published by Parbury, Allen, & Co.,1828-29.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/42030693

Oh no! I'm rhyming again!

The title is certainly descriptive of what I'm wearing!

 

This the ensemble I wore to attend the Vanity Club Dinner held the 3rd night of this year's Keystone Transgender Conference! I think it looked quite nice!

 

My ensemble consists of this lovely stretch lace asymmetrical hem minidress from venus.com, my super shiny black Platino Cleancut pantyhose from shapings.com worn over Hanes Alive Barely There support hose from onehanesplace.com and my black patent peep toe platform stiletto pumps with the 5" heels also from venus.com.

 

To see more pix of me in other tight, sexy and revealing outfits click this link: www.flickr.com/photos/kaceycdpix/sets/72157623668202157/

 

To see more pix of me out & about click this link: www.flickr.com/photos/kaceycdpix/sets/72157632318953102/

 

To see more pix of me wearing conventional ensembles click this link: www.flickr.com/photos/kaceycdpix/sets/72157613893896474

 

To see more pix of me showing off my legs click this link: www.flickr.com/photos/kaceycdpix/sets/72157623668202157/

 

To see more pix of me at the 2016 Keystone Transgender Conference click this link: www.flickr.com/photos/kaceycdpix/sets/72157665848398656

 

_DSC9496-13

Color is descriptive. Black and white is interpretive. Elliott Erwitt

 

© www.markdanielphoto.com

 

Kodak T-max 100 Sheet Film

 

5 mins Pre Wash

14 mins Bergger PMK - 1+2+100. Agitate 2 times every 15 secs

1 min wash

6 mins First Call Neutral Fixer

20 mins wash

wash aid

 

Descriptive plate-book

Newark, N.Y. :Knight & Bostwick,[19--]

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/59563496

The Hospital of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, Hospital Road, Retford, Nottinghamshire, 1832-34 with alterations in 1872.

By Edward Blore (1787–1879).

Founded by John Darrell in 1671.

The 1872 chapel block has a clock tower and a Welsh slate roof with finial.

Grade ll listed.

  

Trinity Hospital was established over 300 years ago,in 1671 with an endowment from the Will of Dr John Darrel of West Retford. He left his own property, Retford Hall, to provide accommodation and hospitality for 15 gentlemen, who were in a particular need. We offer the same hospitality today within the Grade II Listed Alms houses on Hospital Road in Retford.

 

trinityhospitalretford.co.uk

 

Detail:- Main entrance to Trinity Hospital.

 

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The 'hospital' – actually sheltered accommodation in modern terms – was set up under the will of John Darrel in 1671. He left is own house, West Retford Hall, to provide accommodation for 15 needy gentlemen of not less than 50 years of age.

 

By the early 19th century, the old Elizabethan building was in poor condition, and in 1832-4 the present Hospital was built to the design of E Blore. In 1872, Louth (Lincolnshire) architect James Fowler (who had earlier worked on West Retford Church) was commissioned to design a new chapel and audit room. This was added to the centre of the building and at the ground floor, reusing the former common room and converting the space into a chapel. He also added the clock tower. The Hospital is Listed Grade II.

 

The charity continues to function to this day. As well as the house, the will left significant properties, the income from which was to provide for the costs of the hospital. This has resulted in many properties in the neighbourhood having been built by or under the auspices of the charity with rentals still providing the charity with its income. Most of these properties carry the distinctive TH monogram either in stonework or terracotta panels, and also use a distinctive maroon paint.

 

The will also founded a scholarship for young men to attend at Exeter College in Oxford, and this is supported by a specific building with residences to let.

 

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HOLY TRINITY HOSPITAL (ALMSHOUSES), HOSPITAL ROAD,

 

Heritage Category: Listed Building

 

Grade: II

 

List Entry Number: 1045181

 

Date first listed: 05-Nov-1976

 

Statutory Address: HOLY TRINITY HOSPITAL (ALMSHOUSES), HOSPITAL ROAD

  

Details

 

HOSPITAL 1. 5345 (West Side) Holy Trinity Hospital (Almshouses) SK 7081 3/16 SK 6981 10/16 II The descriptive notes should be amended to read

 

2. Foundation of 1664, but present building of 1832-34 by Edward Blore, with alterations in 1872. 1-storey range of Gothic brick almshouses with stone dressings around 3 sides of a court. Court has arcaded stone wall, urn finials and stone entry with overthrow with 4-centred arch with inscription. Almshouses of 1 storey with 1 upper gable each, containing a window. Rectangular dripmoulds to doors and windows. The gabled ends have 1 upper and 1 bay ground floor window with stone mullions. Tall diagonal-set chimney stacks, most paired. Centre 1872 chapel block with window with dripmould and clock tower to left with Welsh slate spire roof with finial.

 

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HOSPITAL ROAD 1. 5345 (West Side) Holy Trinity Hospital (Almshouses) SK 7081 3/16 SK 6981 10/16 II 2. Foundation of 1664, but present building of 1832, with additions, by Blore, of 1872. 1-storey range of Gothic brick almshouses with stone dressings around 3 sides of a court. Court has arcaded stone wall, urn finials and stone entry with overthrow with 4-centred arch with inscription. Almshouses of 1 storey with 1 upper gable each, containing a window. Rectangular dripmoulds to doors and windows. The gabled ends have 1 upper and 1 bay ground floor window with stone mullions. Tall diagonal-set chimney stacks, most paired. Centre later chapel block with window with dripmould and clock tower to left with Welsh slate spire roof with finial.

 

Listing NGR: SK6999081207

  

historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1045181

 

britishlistedbuildings.co.uk/101045181-holy-trinity-hospi...

 

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Trinity Hospital Retford

 

Holy Trinity Hospital (known as Trinity Hospital) is a Grade II listed building in Retford, Nottinghamshire set in gardens off Hospital Road. It was established over 340 years ago, and has been a prominent Alms House since the 17th Century.

 

The Old Hall and Founding of Trinity Hospital

 

The site of Trinity Hospital was originally the site of the Old Hall of West Retford, the home of the Denmans and Darrells of Retford, who were related by marriage to the Hercy's of Grove, Nottinghamshire who lived at Grove Hall.

 

According to Edwin Wilmshurst (1908), the Denmans were descended from Thomas Denman, a "knighted family" who held land at Tinslow (now Tinsley, near Sheffield) which he had inherited from William of Tynneslow. His descendent, Nicholas of Retforde married Ann, seventh daughter of Humphrey Hercy of Grove (and sister of Sir John Hercy), who inherited the Manor of West Retford. Nicholas and Anne Denman (née Hercy) had four sons: William (died 1568) without issue; Francis (d 1599) father of Barbara Denman (b 1582/3) and Anne Denman (b 1586); Thomas of Ordsall who had issue and who was the grandfather of the separatist Humphrey Denman; Edmund, of Hollywell, Co. Lincoln who died in 1561 without issue.

 

The Old Hall in Retford was given by Dr John Darrell (d 1665), son of Barbara Denman and Edward Darell (born c. 1582), to become a hospital for old men of good repute in his will (dated 1664). As the last member of the Denman-Darrell family, he carried out the wishes of his father, Edward, in this respect. He endowed it for a master and sixteen brethren.

 

In 1672 the Trustees carried out the instructions in the will to provide a separate suite of rooms for each brother and ten shillings per week. They would be given a gown of broad cloth every two years and coals valued at four pounds yearly. On 14 June 1672 they formulated a corporation with a seal of silver which in Wilmshurst's time was still in use. As well as a code of rules and regulations, appointing the Master Governor to be the Sub-Dean of Lincoln Cathedral; a Bailyffe who was to govern the hospital, receive the rents and be paid 20 nobles per year; the Chaplain to be the Rector of West Retford church (St Michael's); a nurse, who was to be a "Grave Ancient Woman".

 

The Brethren had to be members of the Church of England and follow a series of rules:

 

* they were to be 'Poor Bachelors or Widowers of good Character, who are not less than 50 years of age’

* they should be selected from the neighbourhood of Retford and the kindred of John Darrell be preferred

* they must receive the sacrament at least three times a year, and to go to Church whenever there is service there

*they were to dine together at the Trinity Feast in the common room

*they must not be a drunkard, swearer or blasphemer or an obstinate refuser to go to Church or they would be expelled

 

The trust continues to this day. It was endowed with significant properties, the income from which was to provide for the costs of the hospital. This has resulted in many properties in the neighbourhood having been built by or under the auspices of the charity with rentals still providing the charity with its income. Most of these properties carry the distinctive TH monogram either in stonework or terracotta panels, and also use a distinctive maroon paint.

 

The will also founded a scholarship for young men to attend Exeter College in Oxford, and this is supported by a specific building with residences to let.

 

The current building

 

By the early 19th century, the old Elizabethan building was in poor condition, and in 1832-4 the present (Grade II listed) Hospital was built on the original site to the design of Edward Blore. It is thought Blore's link to Retford was because his wife was from Mattersey. His creation cost £4,000 to build.

 

In 1872, Louth (Lincolnshire) architect James Fowler (who had earlier worked on West Retford Church) was commissioned to design a new chapel and audit room. This was added to the centre of the building and at the ground floor, reusing the former common room and converting the space into a chapel. He also added the clock tower.

 

The Clock Tower

 

The clock was made by William Thomas of Lincoln and is dated 1858. The clock is of bird-cage wrought iron construction, having two trains, a recoil escapement and shows the time externally on a single adjacent dial. It strikes the hours only on a single bell above. In 1996 an automatic winding system was installed on the advice of John Ablott of Scunthrope.

 

The Audit Room

 

The Audit Room features a striking stained glass window made by Edwin Wilmshurst (the same Edwin Wilmshurst who wrote the history of Trinity Hospital).

 

In his scrapbook he notes how in 1860 he happened to be in York and enquired if he could obtain historic stained glass. He was shown a box of waste glass and bought it. When he retired in 1908, he finally cleaned and sorted it, discovering some came from church windows, some from noble town houses in medieval York and some from secular public buildings. It ranged in date from early Gothic to Nineteenth Century. He assembled from this collection a window which became known as the 'Trinity window'. It was installed by William Spurr, Plumber and Glazier of Churchgate, Retford at a cost of £20 – 6s – 7½d. When the window was restored in 2000, it was discovered that it contained rare medieval glass, which necessitated recording the window in the European and British Register.

 

Another stained glass window on the south-east side dates from 1876 and was added at the expense of brother Edward Beckett, who had been a gardener who laid out the grounds of the King Edward VI Grammar School and the Girls' High School. He is said to have saved his beer money for three years to pay for the window and have challenged his Brethren: "Now then you, there's t'other winder, and there be 15 o'yah; I dares ye to put him in." His Brethren took up the challenge and within a year had saved enough for the Four Evangelists window.

 

Ornamental gates

 

The Hospital features an outstanding pair of gates, commissioned in January 1995 by the Master Governor from Chris Topp, Blacksmith, of Carlton Husthwaite, Thirsk, North Yorkshire. The gates were finished and hung on the Epiphany Feast 1996. The gate posts are thought to date back to the Old Hall.

 

2015 extension

 

In 2015 the building was designed by Soul Architects and built by TG Sowerby, with the Darrel Room extension winning "Best Small Commercial Building" in the East Midlands LABC Building Excellence Awards.

 

Queen Anne Portrait A painting of Queen Anne belonging to the hospital was cleaned and restored in 1999. An appraisal of the painting was made by an art expert from Phillips, who attributed it to Sir Godfrey Kneller, a well-known royal portrait painter during Queen Anne's reign.

  

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinity_Hospital_Retford

A Descriptive catalogue of the lepidopterous insects contained in the Museum of the honourable East-India company,

London,Published by Parbury, Allen, & Co.,1828-29.

biodiversitylibrary.org/page/42030615