View allAll Photos Tagged Hapless
'It is hard work to be a living entity'
Oil and work on canvas
2021
This has probably been the longest-in-production painting of mine ever. It's been on the easel for years. And although I don't think of it as one of my best, I am really quite ok with it, after years of trying to clarify it.
And I have realised it is a very similar theme to a painting I did three decades ago when I was 24, 'Happy Worker'.
Both images express a kind of hapless, ignorant happiness with a task, despite the task being either brutal, or as in this work, self defeating.
A long time ago, I watched my then girlfriend jumping up and down with excitement, talking to a friend of hers. I looked down, and saw she was unknowingly crushing hundreds of ants as she so happily jumped. That moment has never left me, and probably never will.
Gnorman claims he had a great idea years ago for a TV sitcom about some hapless characters going on a 3 hour boat tour. He says TV execs stole the idea and he never received red cent for his idea.
A Wicked Turn
Acte 19
One must be Methodical
Dropping her hand, she questioned him…
“What have you forgotten to do, my dear thief?”
He stood still, hoping she would just obligingly tell him what to do next.
She happily did so...
“My closet! Gaston your always forgetting any good burglar worth his salt checks a damsel’s closet for brooches and such left on by ladies far too lazy to remove them from one's party frocks. I swear Gaston You would make a horrible burglar in real life. You would positively starve if it were not for being directed by someone like me!”
She chortled at her wit.
He just smiled, thanking her inwardly for being ever so much a big help to her poor Darling ‘Gaston’!
He turned to his right and headed straight to the closet, curious as to what he was expected to find inside?
Opening the door, a long floor length mirror was revealed, allowing one to see into the interior of the bedroom behind him.
Including the reflection of his most helpful victim as she stood there in all her jewelled and tight-fitting emerald satin attired glory!
She keenly watching his progress with an eager interest, as he stole a look at her reflection, muttering happily to himself…
“Best get this over with quickly, then attend to the lady and her finery!”
He turned to look back inside, and was met with a designer like an assortment of colourful dresses, gowns, and other fancy attire!
A quite nice, if not downright beguiling, display of soft velvets, slinky silks, sleek satins, frilled lace, and shiny leather.
He quickly began his task at hand, letting his thinly gloved fingers feel through the wonderfully sleek fabrics for anything hard and metallic.
On one velvet number he felt something like a necklace around its top, he pulled it out, but disappointedly it was a rhinestone collared frock.
He tossed it onto the bed and resumed his search as she could be heard softly giggling behind him...
“Nope, nothing on that one, but don’t quit just yet!
He stole a glance at her from the mirror, then he turned back into working the closet.
The glance revealed that his ‘mentor’ was watching him eagerly, her whole being quivering in anticipation head down to spiky heeled foot!
He fingered a satiny white ruffled blouse, he decided he had better keep tabs on this one, still not sure what exactly her game was all on about?
He muttered to himself…
“They were her jewels after all, weren’t they? Indeed, rather valuable for mere playthings!”
There had to be something inside here!
He thought as he let drop the satin blouse and plunged his gloved hands inside again and felt around.
This time he was rewarded by feeling a slight prick of something solid and sharp.
He pulled out a luxuriously long black satin number and saw it had two ruby clips attached to its bodice.
He held it up to the mirror so she could see.
she clapped gleefully, watching him pull free the ruby clips from the evening gown and casually flipped them into his bag on the floor.
“Well done Gaston!”
He looked up at her, as the slinky black gown was indifferently added to the growing pile on her bed.
He could see by her reflection that she was excitedly eating it up.
Then she suddenly resumed back into her character of being the hapless victim.
And began to miserably plead…
“Please mister burglar don't take everything of mine! I am sure there is nothing more inside!”
He smiled, wondering how she would react when she eventually found out that indeed, she was a hapless victim of her game!?
Turning his attention once again to her closet he moved aside the hangers, revealing a set of shelves set in the back that contained a nice selection of sensible shoes, wedged pumps, glossy spiked heels and designer style purses.
One purse caught his ever-appraising eyes, a small gold clutch with what looked like (and probably was) a diamonded clasp!
He pulled it out and tossed the expensive bugger into the bag.
“Oui , Good eye Gaston! It's almost like you were a real thief.”
She gurgled this, shivering in delight, as her earrings and necklace flickered along with her figure, like uncontrollable wildfires.
He watched the enticing show from her reflection in the handy door length mirror.
Then he turned back to the closet.
For, as he was moving the dresses over to look into the shelves, his eye had caught sight of a black leather jacket with a belt studded by what must have been a thousand rhinestones.
He now pulled it out and searched its pockets, mainly to tease her a bit further, for he imagined that “Gaston” would do such a thing!
So, he was utterly surprised when his gloved fingertips felt something cold and a bit weighty in a side pocket!
He slipped it out and found he was holding a solid gold cigarette case, which he added to the ever-growing collection in his bag!
His “Mentor” trilled as he did so, exclaiming with happy surprise...
“I had wondered where that had gotten off to luv! The matching lighter should be there too!”
He reached back in, and there it was, as well as a small ivory and ebony gold ringed cigarette holder.
Both of which quickly joined their companion in the now bulging bag.
He then pulled off the shimmery belt.
Even with rhinestones, it was worth a pretty penny he reasoned.
As started to pitch it into the case, he heard the Lady helpfully exclaim in the background, a good idea she said excitedly.
“Save that for when you tie me up to take my jewels!”
Shaking his head, why not? he tossed the belt to the helpful lass’s feet…
Thinking he was quite finished with the closet as he held the leather jacket, he for no rhyme or reason, took the time to hang it back up rather than adding it to the pile on the bed.
But It was as he did so that something, a most decidedly not rhinestone something, flashed in the dim lights in the gap that had been made where the leather jacket had hung!
He eagerly reached in and pulled out a lovely long brown, silky soft, liquidly appearing gown.
Holding it up triumphantly, he looked down at the dazzling sparkles of a magnificent gem-encrusted brooch that was suspended from the gown’s wide centre waistline.
“Good show Gaston!”
She exclaimed in the background.
His eyes left the brooch and looked into the mirror at her.
She was clapping, rings and bracelets, earrings and Coronet, the whole lot, erupting into a million pinpricks of fire as she did so!
He felt his manhood rising precariously as he looked her over, feeling the effect, even from this distance, her primitively carnal arousal!
She eagerly continued, spilling her emotions into her words!
“Mon Mari, I was going to tease you later if you were to ‘ave missed that one, and I was sure you were going to!”
“Tsk!” he said to himself. wonder what the teasing part would have entailed!
At the same time his mind was picturing this, he automatically, without taking his eyes off the mirror, pulled off the brooch and nonchalantly pocketing the breathtakingly pretty jewel before throwing the scintillatingly downy soft feeling soft gown onto the shiny pile already laying strewn about the bed.
It flashed through his mind that the fancy dresses strewn about could have been the striplings from that many jewel encrusted maidens, like this one, and what a delightful haul that would have been to carry out!
Savouring those thoughts, he turned once again to focus his attention, on the rather all too helpful Miss, his eyes traveling unabashedly up and down her figure.
Time was a-wasting!
Wearing a modernised version of the GMPTE livery, 3330 (NEK1K) is pictured on the former Lancashire United bus station off Spinning Jenny Street, Leigh, Greater Manchester in c1984.
NEK1K, had been new to Wigan Corporation in May 1972 and was numbered No1 in the fleet. The bus was one of ten identical buses ordered by Wigan CT (1 - 10, (NEK1K - NEK10K)), and all were painted into the Corporation's maroon and white colours.
In 1974, Wigan Corporation Transport Department was absorbed into the existing Greater Manchester Passenger Transport Executive. As a consequence, the former Wigan bus fleet was renumbered inline with the PTE fleet numbering system of the time. Wigan's double-decker buses were numbered into the 3200 & 3300 series, and single deckers into the 1000 series. In doing so, 1 to 10 became 3330-3339. Amongst the ten AN68s, 3330 was noted as being the first production Leyland AN68/R2 chassis to built by Leyland.
3330, as far as I am aware, was allocated to Wigan's, Melverley Street bus garage for the duration of its service life, but I stand to be corrected. Towards the end of its service life in the mid 1980s, NEK1K was considered for preservation, but this did not come to fruition and the bus was scrapped after withdrawal. Happily, sister bus NEK9K (9 / 3338) lives on as an example of the type.
As a side note, a prototype AN68/R2 chassis had been built in 1970, and bodied by Alexander as a development vehicle. The bus was built to the then current Merseyside H47/32D specification. The unregistered bus was retained by Leyland Motors as a development test bed.
After Leyland had done with the prototype AN68, it was sold to Rennie of Dunfermline, Scotland where upon it was registered SFS159V in April 1980. Rennie's did not keep the bus for long, selling it on to Bailey's of Kirkby-in-Ashfield, Notts in 1982. After Bailey's had finished with SFS159V, it was sold on to Truronian of Truro, Cornwall where it gave over 12-years' service before being scrapped in 1998. A picture of SFS159V is to be found on Flickr showing the hapless bus toppled over onto a Vauxhall car in a recovery exercise. It may have been acquired from Turonian by the local emergency services as a practice vehicle? If so, it would not have been much use to anyone afterwards?
The glittering, sticky spikes of this Sundew leaf spell death for any unsuspecting insect that gets stuck on them...and they are digested to provide the plant with minerals...all that glitters isn't gold for the hapless insects that come it's way in the Pitcher Plant bog!
I came across this photo of a tiny, popcan-sized Northern Pygmy-owl from my archives the other day and thought I'd post it. It was taken on 5 February 2011, in Fish Creek Park. Can't help wondering if this owl is the same owl as one of the ones that have been in Fish Creek Park during January and February of this year (2015). I think it has to be.
On the day I took this photo, I had bumped into a group of friends when I arrived at the parking lot and they told me they had seen the owl. Well, it took a lot of looking, I can tell you! When I finally did spot it, it was towards the top of probably the tallest tree in the area, but it eventually flew to the other side of the path, to the top of the second tallest tree. Again it flew and disappeared. After looking and looking and looking, there it was, not too far away, but in a tree with a tangle of small branches, thankfully with none across the owl itself. These little fist-sized/popcan-sized owls are just about impossible to find : ) I think this was only about the third time I'd had any fresh air at all in the previous 5-6 weeks, which was so bad and, though sunshine would have been really nice, I'm sure the short walk did me some good. The owl certainly did : ) These little guys are just so beautiful - and fierce! They are rare to uncommon here in Alberta.
"Northern Pygmy Owls are 'sit and wait' predators, that hunt mainly by vision, diving down onto prey on the ground and driving the talons into the prey's throat. They will also attack birds in shrubs, crashing into the hapless victims. Most prey is carried off in the feet to feeding sites. Birds are usually plucked before being consumed. They often eat only the brains of birds and the soft abdomen of insects. One of these little owls can carry prey weighing up to 3 times its own weight.
The Northern Pygmy Owl feeds on a wide range of small prey including small mammals, birds, and reptiles and amphibians. Voles make up the bulk of their diet, with birds comprising most of the rest (mainly songbirds, but as large as a California Quail). Other small mammals include shrews, mice, chipmunks, bats, moles, young rabbits, and weasels. Insects may be very important when they are most abundant. Other prey taken are toads, frogs and small lizards and snakes.
During winter, surplus prey is cached in a cavity, often in large quantities. Summer caches are usually much smaller.
Pellets are very small, averaging about 3cm long. They are formed only occasionally as these owls don't consume large amounts of fur, feathers, or bone. The pellets tend to fall apart shortly after ejection." From OwlPages.
“Jungle stories by Jim Corbett merit as much popularity and as wide a circulation as Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Books. Kipling’s Jungle Books were fiction, based on great knowledge of jungle life; Corbett’s stories are fact, and fact is often stranger than fiction.”
~M.G. Hallett (Introduction; Man-Eaters of Kumaon)
To the world, Jim Corbett is a little-known naturalist who rose to some fame in early 1900s hunting several maneaters in India’s Kumaon region. To Kumaonis, people from the densely forested Himalayan foothills of Kumaon, Jim Corbett was a savior. He was called upon on numerous occasions to alleviate terrors of man-eating tigers and leopards that roamed large regions and killed tens to hundreds of hapless men, women, and children who needed to venture into the jungle for their livelihood. To locals, Jim Corbett was not a hunter or a killer, he was their protector. Born in India of European ancestry, Jim Corbett loved the country and her people (“In my India, the India I know, there are four hundred million people, ninety percent of whom are simple, honest, brave, loyal, hard-working souls whose daily prayer to God…, is to give them security of life and of property...”; My India). Returning the love and doffing her hat to his status and posthumous influence in the region, India named her first national park after him (The Jim Corbett National Park).
Jim Corbett was also a writer extraordinaire, a fact often ignored in favor of his fame as the celebrated hunter. He hunted alone (“I have made it a hard and fast rule to go alone when hunting man-eaters, for if one’s companion is unarmed it is difficult to protect him, and if he is armed, it is even more difficult to protect oneself”), and he wrote alone producing prose that effortlessly took readers on nerve wrecking expeditions of hunting man-eaters. He shot with a long rifle and wrote in long sentences. Both his rifle and his sentences often met their targets. Take the following as an example:
"Dansay was an Irishman steeped to the crown of his head in every form of superstition, in which he had utter and complete belief, and it was therefore natural for him to tell his ghost stories in a very convincing manner. According to Dansay, a banshee was an evil female spirit that resided in dense forests and was so malignant that the mere hearing of it brought calamity to the hearer and his family, and the seeing of it death to the unfortunate beholder. Dansay described the call of a banshee as a long drawn-out scream, which was heard most frequently on dark and stormy nights. These banshee stories had a fearful fascination for me, for they had their setting in the jungles in which I loved to roam..." (Jungle Lore)
If you are not already spooked, you’re by now, at least, very curious about Dansay’s Banshee. I will let Jim tell you all about it:
"As on the evening of the storm a wind was blowing, and after I had been standing with my back to a tree for some minutes, I again heard the scream. Restraining with difficulty my impulse to run away, I stood trembling behind the tree and after the scream had been repeated a few times, I decided to creep up and have a look at the banshee. … —with my heart beating in my throat— I crept forward as slowly and as noiselessly as a Shadow, until I saw Dansay’s banshee.
In some violent storm of long ago a giant of the forest had been partly uprooted and had been prevented from crashing to the ground by falling across another and slightly smaller giant. The weight of the bigger tree had given the smaller tree a permanent bend, and when a gust of wind lifted the bigger one and then released it, it swayed back on to the supporting tree. At the point of impact the wood of both trees had died and worn as smooth as glass, and it was the friction between these two smooth surfaces that was emitting the terrifying scream. Not until I had laid the gun on the ground and climbed the leaning tree and sat on it while the scream was being repeated below me, was I satisfied that I had found the terror that was always at the back of my mind when I was alone in the jungles. From that day I date the desire I acquired of following up and getting to the bottom of every unusual thing I saw or heard in the jungles and for this I am grateful to Dansay for, by frightening me with his banshee, he started me on the compiling of many exciting and interesting jungle detective stories.” (Jungle Lore)
Locating and ‘getting to the bottom of the unusual sight’ above during our recent trip to the verdant national park, Rishabh said, ‘it looks like a scene from a videogame’. It was indeed a scene. It was Jim Corbett’s scene, which reminded me all about his Banshee and how not to be afraid of the unknown but be eagerly curious about it.
Lying haplessly on the road, probably after an escape jump from someone's grocery bag :)
© All rights reserved, don´t use this image without my permission. Contact me at debmalya86@gmail.com
This time she did not lay down a layer of web. I don't actually know what she did, but when she was finished the beetle's leg was firmly by its side and there was no movement from the hapless creature.
While I don't know what she did to further encase the beetle, the process was fascinating. She positioned herself below the beetle and using her legs she rotated the beetle as though it were a spit roast. The beetle turned over and over, I saw no evidence of web being laid down, but it happened all the same. Perhaps she rearranged the existing web with her feet.
2612
In 1937, financier Edward Ball took his idea of quiet elegance and placed it gently in the most serene place he’d found on his international travels, Wakulla Springs. He imported marble and tile, hired artisans in iron and stone, and introduced to the world a most unique retreat.
To explore the history of this grand hotel is to take a voyage back in time to Florida’s “land boom”—those glorious days when people and money flowed into the Sunshine State, braving swamps and mud slides with an eye to the future. It started during the 1920s, when Ball was touring Florida’s panhandle looking for land to purchase to grow pulpwood. He found love at first sight at Wakulla Springs. “I knew then that the area had to be preserved,” Ball said, “but I didn’t know exactly how at the time.”
In 1931 Ball bought the Springs and Lodge site from the Christy brothers, who had a small restaurant where the present boat dock stands. He personally handled all facets of the design and construction of Wakulla Springs Lodge, outlining the floor plan, choosing the architects and materials, and insisting on meticulous attention to every detail. Construction of the two-story hotel began in 1935.
The original roof was of wood with steel superstructure. It was replaced after a fire, started unfortunately by a hapless trainee during the Lodge’s use as a military training facility during World War II. The new roof was reinforced with slate and metal on steel to render it totally fireproof.
Ball’s eye to quality and durability can also be seen through his lavish use of Tennessee marble throughout the Lodge on floors, baseboards, thresholds, counters, stairwells, desk tops and table tops in the gift shop, lobby, and veranda. The marble is fitted so meticulously no grout can be seen.
The world’s longest known marble bar, at 70 feet 3 inches, is in the Soda Fountain/Gift Shop. This marble is “face matched.” Eight pieces were cut from one block of marble. This process is known as quarter-sawing: a block of marble is cut in half, cut in half again, and each quarter is again cut in half to get eight panels, thereby producing a matching grain pattern.
The use of “heart” cypress can also be seen throughout the Lodge. Heart cypress is the very interior of the tree. All of the cypress logs used in the Lodge were obtained locally as “dead heads”—cypress that had fallen into water and been immersed for 50 years or longer, making it impervious to rot. The Great Lobby itself heads the list with use of this wood. Although this room is great in size, the height of the ceiling is about 16 feet, a huge expanse of hand-hewn cypress panels is still visible. The expansive transverse “beams” are actually steel girders faced with cypress planks.
The lobby ceiling gets the most attention for its decorative painting of local wildlife scenes. Close examination shows it to be a combination of European folk art, intricate Arabic scroll work, and Native American influences.
Two special features grace the rim of the lobby. The marble and iron staircase and the original elevator are both Art Deco masterpieces. The interior of the elevator walls are walnut, with quarter sewn, face matched grain and marquetry panels—an inlay using varied colored woods. This is the only known surviving period Art Deco elevator still in use.
The staircase’s three landings are massive marble panels with face-matched grain that were cut from one block. The risers and treads also are matched panel of marble and granite. The wrought iron railing was made on site and illustrates wildlife from the river. The limpkins and herons in the balustrade are true to life in outline and size.
True to Ball’s word to preserve the area and to create a serene and peaceful retreat, the Lodge at Wakulla Springs is an example of precise craftsmanship and offers visitors a timeless glimpse into Florida’s pristine and elegant past.
Credit for the data above is given to the following websites:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wakulla_Springs
thelodgeatwakullasprings.com/history-2/
© All Rights Reserved - you may not use this image in any form without my prior permission.
A Slaty Egret (Egretta vinaceigula) juggles a hapless little fish in it beak so as to line it up to swallow comfortably. Photographed in the Moremi National Park. Botswana. Sometimes its tough being a fish.
A week on from Valencia Marathon weekend and I think my knees have recovered from the trauma. Some therapy came in the shape of the pretty waterfront at Villajoyosa on the Costa Blanca, just a few miles from its famous neighbour, Benidorm, a paradise for sunseekers from these cold dark Northern European countries in winter so I'm told.
I've developed this strange new phase of having what I call marathon holidays. Land somewhere interesting, live like a monk for a couple of days, run 26 miles and 345 yards very slowly, and then go to seed rapidly over the remaining days before heading back to reality. Hopefully it will pass before long so that I can return my efforts to photography, beer and anything with chips. But for now I have my eye on Malaga marathon this time next year. Enough of that; you didn't come here to read about my hapless exploits.
Villajoyosa is a town I've wanted to visit for many years. The colourful waterfront houses caught my eye in a photograph some time ago and a bargain overnight accommodation offer in the old town lured us into its streets at last.
Thought I'd try a painterly effect with the pastel shades on offer. Legend has it that fishermen of the town painted their houses brightly in order to spot them from the sea. Although historians aren't convinced. Nice place, whatever the truth over the riot of colour is.
The Missive Acte F
Rude and Glorious
He had quickly strolled back down the path, putting distance between him and the twit of a lady foolishly waiting for him to bring back the wine! ……and hopefully that distance will be getting him closer to further the lining his pockets that evening.
He was glad this one ( the twit) had fallen for his letter writing ruse, for her diamonds and jewels he had found to be the most enticing , and felt that she would be the easiest to trick out of said jewels.
She above all the lasses he had paid the lad to deliver handwritten notes of false admiration to…
Though the admiration had not been false, it was simply had been the jewels his chosen marks were wearing, and not them he wanted to lure them out to meet !!
He was smirking as he thought over this, it had been fun to have pretended to be trying to seduce the twit, and by doing so, taking advantage of the poor lass’s gullibility in obtaining her valuables…
He smacked his lips as he placed a hand into his pocket, as he replayed the events, especially,Totally on the cuff, his coming up with the hidden bottle of wine lie to get smoothly away. This diversion had , in his opinion, been sheer brilliant genius on his part……
As he was self-complimenting himself, he turned a corner of the path and stopped dead in his tracks.
The moonlight had lit up a small clearing by a stone Garden house just ahead. And it showed a pretty female standing there, alone, and in all her shimmery fine glory……
“Ello, what ave we ‘ere?” he whispered, salivating , while looking around for any additional signs of trouble.
He thought, as he did so… two out of three then so far… Two birds in a bush he thought, not bothering to heed the sage advice that the rest of the ancient proverb gave….
He automatically went into stalking mode, quietly circling around the prettily gowned Lass… Young ,Pretty with long silky hair. Making sure that, indeed she, and sparkling priceless jewels she had worn along out for the occasion, were indeed all alone…
The lamb before the wolf…!!
Nice of you to wait for me Miss, he smirked thoughtfully to himself under his breath, eyeing her expensive sparklers as he carefully circled in, wishing to approach and ambush from the her back.
He saw that she was still clutching his luring letter.
As he successfully reached his chosen spot, her sweet backside to him, he stopped, and just before he made his entrance, he deliberately snapped a small twig. Maliciously watching her startled reaction as she heard the noise breaking the dreadfully still silence in the night.
He entered the light of the circle, smiling as innocently and shyly as he had done when first looking into the eyes of the hapless, wine waiting, twit he had just left back in the gardens.
She turned, her eyes brightening as she recognized him as one of her dance partners, one with dashed brilliant looks. One of the ones she was hoping had been the letter writer who had so boldly asked her to meet him here..
“Why Hello”, she twittered, placing a hand to her earlobe and pulling at a rather brilliantly shimmering, long diamonded earring, with a nervous twitch.
“Ello.” he said, “fancy meetin you here?”
She smiled…” Come now sir, you must admit writing that letter, the one telling me to come out alone on this misty, dark evening to meet a secret admirer!”
He smiled,” ah yes the letter, so glad you received it my dear lass, so glad you came here, all alone like I had asked.”
“Well” she purred, “Pray to tell one , why was it so important to see me here, alone then .. or will you keep me guessing?”
“I like a lass that comes right to the point!” he parried, smiling winningly, as he took a few more steps towards her, no I will not keep you guessing on that account my pretty one.
She appeared to be quivering in anticipation, waiting for the words he believed she longed to hear. To be uttered enthusiastically by him, to be wooed by him, as he spoke them to her, and then , having a lovers embrace sweep her from her feet. To all appearances, this is what was playing out in her mind. But, however, decidedly not in his….!
He was not surprised at what he read in those green eyes of hers. After all, it was something that he had accurately read countless times before, from his many lured victims….. Whom also found to their woe, that he was not as he appeared to them to be atoll …!!
He finally spoke again…
“Lovely jewels you are wearing this evening, the good uns I see… “ He stated as he reached a hand inside his pocket and pulled out something dark and metallic.
“Wait, what?!” she said… her eyes looking buggered… as she placed a hand to the magnificent necklace dripping down the front of her satin gown in a sparkling flow from her throat….
Them jewels you’re wearing luv, I’ll be having them, and quick, im rather in a dash !! He demanded with a wolfish snarl…..
He had pulled a rather wicked little derringer from his pocket, and held out his hands, fingers beckoning for her to begin as he pointed its business end towards her gown’s shiny waistline….
A sudden noise from the woods caught both their attention, and their heads turned in unison….
To see nothing more than a voyeur owl swooping up into a tree for a better look at what was conspiring in the little glen.
The man breathed an inward sigh of relief, and turned back to his victim, who also looked back at him, her eyes wide and more than a bit sad as reality of the situation sunk in…She than, heaving a deep sigh, reached up and began the requested process by first removing her Shimmering jewelled Earrings….
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
So, at this point one would suppose the damsel would have been rescued from her plight by a knight in shining armour. But apparently the best I could do was writing in an Owl… !?
Hopefully I can find us in an nicer neck of the woods for our next Acte?…
or not… depends if the stories tone is interrupted again due to smoggy rain, irritable pub mates, or writers moral block…… or…… look a bloody squirrel !!
But, I’m afraid that upon seeing that this current discourse is getting a bit rude, we should probably toddle off and go with an Alfred Hitchcock like ending to this scene, leaving the outcome up to the reader’s imagination shall we? ….
……… To Be continued
Did you leave Earth to escape the constant chaos, noise, and bustle? Then you're out of luck, because the Space Clowns are bringing all those modern inconveniences to space. Making noise, chasing hapless astronauts, and causing mostly-harmless mischief is their mission.
Variations in gravity make it difficult to transfer juggling skills from one planet to another. Jugglebot solves that problem. Its state of the art physics engine can instantly master juggling in any environment.
I've been contemplating this project for a couple years now. I finally started it at the beginning of the covid quarantine, since I had a lot of time to kill at home, and I felt like something a bit sillier than usual might be uplifting in this difficult time.
It looks innocent enough but about one metre below the surface lies a deadly ambush of German soldiers, all heavily armed and with clear field of vision over the beach below.
Just after 0600h on 6th June 1944 the beach erupted with gun fire as men of the 1st & 29th US Infantry Divisions went ashore to face the barrage.
Before the day was over the US had lost 2,500 men killed in action but for the hapless enemy soldiers who manned this bunker one way or another the war was over for them.
Colleville-sur-Mer, Omaha Beach, France.
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel's kick & the wind's song & the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray & the blown spume, & the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life.
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And a quiet sleep & a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
'Sea Fever' - John Masefield.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Masefield
But in my case, I don't understand why.
I'm the first of my family ever to go to sea.
(Other than as hapless 'cargo' in troop-ships)
And it only came about because I ignored advice:
Keep yer mouth shut, eyes open and never volunteer !
(A poignant verse found in Masefield's Last Will & Testament
holds great appeal for me. Mayhap I shall borrow it ?)
I watched this Yellow-rumped Thornbill bash the living daylights out of this hapless caterpillar.
(Clare)
the wednesday restart - i find myself with a giant spider, a fish, a blow up doll, a bonniebelle bot, a male fashion model some kind of superhero, 2 foxes and a medley of hapless noobs.
The River of light, a firework display from barges on the River Mersey. Three barges between The Wirral and Liverpool where the bases for the display by the group Titanium Fireworks.
November the 5th has celebrated the discovery and dismantling of a plot to blow up the houses of parliament by a Catholic group wanting to overthrow the Protestant government of England.
Today the celebrations have taken on a more secular feel and the bonfire and effigies of Guy Fawkes, the hapless Catholic left to ignite the explosion. As a result most youngsters know little of the religious struggle that the celebration enacts.
These two New Zealand Southern Black-Backed Gulls decided to feast on the hapless Starfish lying on the water's edge right behind them.
Consequently, they each tore a limb of the poor Jellyfish - and immediately spat both limbs back onto the beach... and flew away!
I've never seen a pair of Gulls reject a potential meal before, but these two certainly crossed "Fresh Starfish" off future Menus!
Thanks so much for visiting my Site, and thanks especially for taking the time and trouble to leave a Comment; it's always nice to hear from you...!
(Left (or Right!) click the Mouse to view Large; click again to return to normal).
Fort DeSoto
03/11/2012
Oops!
I can assure you that this Long-billed Curlew eventually nabbed and ate the hapless fiddler crab. But for a few brief moments, the fiddler crab had a chance to escape.
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EatArt - Artfully Ending Hunger
My Photo Blog - The Stories Behind the Images
© Michael Libbe, All Rights Reserved.
This image is the property of the photographer and cannot be used, printed, downloaded, or reproduced in any way for either personal or commercial use without prior written consent of the photographer.
Around 5:00 A.M. on Sunday, March 6, 1836, General Antonio López de Santa Anna, self-proclaimed "Napoleon of the West," hurled his army at the battered walls of the Alamo from four directions. Texan gunners stood by their artillery. As about 1,800 assault troops advanced into range, canister ripped through their ranks. Staggered by the concentrated cannon and rifle fire, the Mexican soldiers halted, reformed, and drove forward. Soon they were past the defensive perimeter. Travis, among the first to die, fell on the north bastion. Abandoning the walls, defenders withdrew to the dim rooms of the Long Barracks. There some of the bloodiest hand-to-hand fighting occurred. Bowie, too ravaged by illness to rise from his bed, found no pity. The chapel fell last. By dawn the Centralists had carried the works. The assault had lasted no more than ninety minutes. As many as seven defenders survived the battle, but Santa Anna ordered their summary execution. Many historians count Crockett as a member of that hapless contingent, an assertion that still provokes debate in some circles. By eight o'clock every Alamo fighting man lay dead. Currently, 189 defenders appear on the official list, but ongoing research may increase the final tally to as many as 257.
The hapless Crane Fly that wound up being lunch learned that lesson the hard way...the Robber Fly's bumblebee-like appearance put him at ease...permanently! A case of mistaken identity on the Blakeley trails yesterday...
As it turned out, I can thank social distancing for finding this Robber Fly...I'm keeping far more than six feet away from people, and when two other hikers approached, I stepped off the trail for more distance...and found this scene unfolding!
Colchicum 'Dick Trotter'
The name of this exquisite Autumn crocus always reminds me of the smash-hit BBC TV comedy series, 'Fools and Horses.'
The show centered on the hilarious exploits of the Trotters, a South London Cockney family, staring Derek "Delboy" Trotter, and his, younger, hapless but taller brother, Rodney "Rodders" Trotter.
The must see Eighties' show achieved cult status with such famous catchphrases as, "He who dares – wins;" "This time next year we'll be millionaires;" "Lovely Jubbly!" and, "You know it makes sense."
Delboy, actor, David Jason, was also fond of calling, Rodders, actor, Nicholas Lyndhurst, "You Plonker!"
Must also mention Edward "Grandad" Trotter, actor, Lennard Pearce, famed for armchair boasts about his heroic wartime navel exploits. He'd drone on: "In the war..."
Decades later, I can still hear their voices to this day .... 😂😂😂
Young seals have an amazing graceful splendour under the water that cannot be appreciated when you see their hapless flopping around on the rocks above it.
Equipment: Canon S100 @7mm, 1/80s, F2.8, ISO 80. Ikelite housing, Inon 100 UWL.
Post-production: Converted to B&W with multiple masked curve layers for exposure adjustment.
Carnivorous plants are plants that derive some or most of their nutrients (but not energy) from trapping and consuming animals or protozoans, typically insects and other arthropods.
where an insect falls into a vase-like modified leaf. Downward-pointing hairs on the slippery walls prevent the insect from crawling out, and the hapless victim ultimately drowns in a pool of digestive enzymes at the bottom.
Taken yesterday at the Pacific Orchid Exposition in San Francisco. The Pacific Orchid Exposition boasts over 150,000 beautiful orchids from around the world and is the largest orchid show in the United States.
The business end of a male Golden-ringed Dragonfly - usually the last thing a hapless prey insect sees before it becomes lunch! Crockford Stream, New Forest, Hampshire, UK. 2018-06-28.
We watched this hapless little cock bobwhite desperately calling for a mate for several minutes. He walked all around, jumped up on a log to make himself more visible and finally wandered away still calling. Bobwhite populations are down 85% since 1966.
Sundews are another bog two-plant carnivorous system, just like the White Top Pitcher Plant...the flowers attract insects into the close proximity of the second plant (see below), which is covered with sticky spines that trap hapless insects, which are then used as nutrients...
The lovely pink blooms only last a day, then the next lower buds on the hanging strand opens the next day...quite an ingenious method of assuring a constant supply of insects will feed the plant system!
This guy swooped down into my backyard and nabbed a hapless pigeon. Didn't take him long to devour it. Very cool to watch.
Brianna: I'm so happy to finally be out of that yucky alley. After that big scary guy chased us in there,* I thought we'd never make it out alive!
Masked Rider Chalice: We showed up and saved you!** I guess you Fashions can see how awesome we are now.
Raphael: Whoa! Dude! Like throttle back before you reach your destination in Egoville, and remember that though you arrived first, it was us Turtles who had to save the day!***
Masked Rider Chalice: Save the day!? I've never seen such a poor display of-
Brooke: Hey guys, chill! You don't have to waste energy impressing us like we'd EVARR hang out, or go out, or anything out with any of you! We're Fashions! We don't need gross Actions!
Brianna: As if!
Masked Rider Chalice: What!? You Fashions know you dig us Actions. Check out my bike.
Brianna: That is a cool bike.
Brooke: Totally. It's a boss bike.
Donatello: If you ladies think that glorified moped is cool, then wait til you see our Turtle Van!
Brianna: Oh... uh, we definitely don't want to get in vans with weirdos.
Brooke: Nevarr!!
Donatello: Then, wait til you see our happenin' pad! We've got like a whole headquarters with lots of pizza right down in the sewers! Trippin!!"
Brianna: Um... your HQ is, like, IN THE SEWER??
Brooke: The SEWARR!? Gross me mostly!!
Masked Rider Chalice: Hah! Strike two, turtle clowns! Me and Kuuga stay at the Queen's Castle!
Brianna: No WAY!! If your place is at Queen Alice's castle, we'll def come with you!!
Masked Rider Chalice: Well, I mean, we can't actually take anyone there. Security protocols and all that.
Brooke: WhatEVARR!! Bri, let's lose these losers! Let's find bettarr Actions!
Masked Rider Chalice: I knew it! You Fashions dig Actions!
Brianna: Well, DUH!!
═════════════════════════════════════
* The 'big scary guy' was the Ice King! And he chased the hapless Fashions into the alley in issue 1610!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/52187478943/
** With appropriate dramatic flair in issue 1612!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/52201686965/
*** Well, they did show up at any rate. As seen in issue 1616...
The hapless Crane Fly that wound up being lunch learned that lesson the hard way...the Robber Fly's bumblebee-like appearance put him at ease...permanently! A case of mistaken identity on the Blakeley trails yesterday...
As it turned out, I can thank social distancing for finding this Robber Fly...I'm keeping far more than six feet away from people, and when two other hikers approached, I stepped off the trail for more distance...and found this scene unfolding!
Carnivorous plants are plants that derive some or most of their nutrients (but not energy) from trapping and consuming animals or protozoans, typically insects and other arthropods.
where an insect falls into a vase-like modified leaf. Downward-pointing hairs on the slippery walls prevent the insect from crawling out, and the hapless victim ultimately drowns in a pool of digestive enzymes at the bottom.
Taken yesterday at the Pacific Orchid Exposition in San Francisco. The Pacific Orchid Exposition boasts over 150,000 beautiful orchids from around the world and is the largest orchid show in the United States.
Macaroon is discovering that you can sell anything.
"So... Ta-DAAA!! My new painting!"
"Oh! I don't see anything?"
"It's just blank??"
"Mm-Mm! It's minimal... mininum... minimumalist! That's it! It's a minimumalist painting!"
"Oh... what's that??"
You just need the right market.
"It's like 'less is more'. It's very artsy."
"If 'less is more' then this is way more!"
"Wait! Artsy? That's my NAME!! I think, right?"
"Your name is TOTALLY Artsy!"
"You should buy it Artsy!"
And if your market is the Barbie Fashionistas, you can sell pretty much anything.*
"Well, I wasn't going to sell it... BUT..."
"Oh, please! I'll give you a million dollars!"
"Wow, really? Do you have a million dollars?"
"Hm... I have this!"
"40 bucks? That'll work! It's yours!"
"YAY!! I have my own miminalmimist painting named after ME!"
__________________________
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
* Artsy and Girly have demonstrated their surprising thoughts several times! At the park in Paprihaven 405:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/19034551359/
And at the mall in Paprihaven 703:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/19416430135/
This photo is for entertainment purposes only and not intended in any way to encourage taking advantage of hapless Barbie Fashionistas. Please treat Barbie Fashionistas with respect. Or at least don't laugh in their face.
Not for the squeamish. A grass spider (Agelenopsis) that has captured and killed a hapless grasshopper. An exercise in ruthless efficiency, the grasshopper is at least five or six times larger than the spider. Within one night she had reduced her prey to an empty shell.
This looks for all the world like a shield bug and it is feeding just like an assassin bug. It has impaled the hapless tortoise beetle larva on its proboscis and is no doubt sucking out the fluids.
Callum Brae, Australian Capital Territory, February, 2015.
View large on black background.
The Fashionistas are pestering amusing Macaroon again.*
"Okay... *gngh*... here we go. Macaroon ... *hnh* ... just be yourself."
"Okay, Artsy, so this is a candid scene?
I can just do my painting?"
"What do... *puff* ... you mean?"
"I can just say anything, and paint anything?"
"No, what does ... *psh* ... 'candid' mean?? Why is this camera so HUGE!?"
"Haha! Artsy! Candid means the past of can do! I can do now or I candid yesterday!"
"OH! Thanks Sporty ... *hrf*... well, I definitely want NOW, Macaroon... *grk* ... and the sooner the better!"
"Sure thing, Artsy! Can do the candid!"
"You... *rnf* ... just blew my mind!"
•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•
A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.
* The last time, Macaroon made some pretty good money off of them!
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51853486997/
The Fashionistas have demonstrated their surprising thoughts several times! At the park in Paprihaven 405:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/19034551359/
And at the mall in Paprihaven 703:
www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/19416430135/
This photo is for entertainment purposes only and not intended in any way to encourage taking advantage of hapless Barbie Fashionistas. Please treat Barbie Fashionistas with respect. Or at least don't laugh in their face.
It's easy to forget how big Bull Ants are. Every time I see one I'm struck by how large they are. You can really see the 'family resemblance' between Wasps and Ants in these ants.
This one was carrying this beetle around looking for a way off the shrub it took it from. It seemed a bit lost, which gave me plenty of time to get a few decent shots, despite how fast it was moving.
-Gear and Settings-
Fujifilm X-T3 w/ Laowa 60mm Ultra Macro at ~0.5-0.75x magnification.
f8, SS 1/250, ISO 400
Lit with the kit flash diffused by paper mounted on the lens.
Cropped and edited in CaptureOne with minor additional edits in Photoshop.
Have you ever thought what an unusual or maybe outdated name this is? Well that wouldn't be surprising as the name for this butterfly first appeared in print in English in 1699, and has barely changed since. James Petiver called it the Lesser or common Tortoise-shell Butterfly, to distinguish it from the Greater (ie Large) Tortoise-shell. But the name dates back to a time before plastics had been invented, when everyday products such as combs and hair clips really did used to be made from carved and polished shells of hapless tortoises. The name of Tortoiseshell cats have the same origin, because of their marbled pattern of blacks, browns and orange, like polished tortoise shell. I think the underside of the butterfly looks more like the tortoise product but maybe Petiver thought the upperwing did?
Its scientific name Aglais urticae is perhaps more appropriate. Aglais (coined in 1816 by a chap called Dalman. It was Nymphalis before that and there is a move to shift it back there) simply means beautiful, and I cannot argue with that. Urticae was given by Linnaeus in 1758, who correctly identified Nettle (Urtica dioica) as its larval foodplant. I photographed this one, the first of this season's new emergence looking pristine and freshly-minted. It was resting on a path high (1200 feet asl) in the West Yorkshire Pennines. Interestingly, there were still individuals on the wing that had emerged the previous summer and hibernated, though they were looking tatty and transparent.
Unfortunately, this once common butterfly is common no-more. The latest Butterfly Conservation magazine says that 2018 was the worst year in the history of the Big Butterfly Count with sightings falling by 38% compared to 2017. Just 23,000 Small Tortoiseshell were counted by participants across the UK during the three-week recording period which coincided with the joint hottest summer on record.
The population of the once common and widespread Small Tortoiseshell has collapsed by 75% since the 1970s and there are now growing concerns among scientists for the butterfly’s long-term future. Reasons for the ongoing decline are being investigated with climate change, pollution and parasites all possible culprits.
Did you leave Earth to escape the constant chaos, noise, and bustle? Then you're out of luck, because the Space Clowns are bringing all those modern inconveniences to space. Making noise, chasing hapless astronauts, and causing mostly-harmless mischief is their mission.
The Monopod Mech hops around, chasing astronauts with its water gun and banging cymbals. Operating for long hours may cause headache.
I've been contemplating this project for a couple years now. I finally started it at the beginning of the covid quarantine, since I had a lot of time to kill at home, and I felt like something a bit sillier than usual might be uplifting in this difficult time.
A windblown adult bald eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) perches at the top of a dead tree overlooking Lambert Channel and holds on tight with its powerful yellow talons. From its high perch, with its excellent eyesight, it can swoop down quickly and catch a hapless fish. Hornby Island, BC.
02/04/2024 www.allenfotowild.com