View allAll Photos Tagged INTUITIVE
Donna and I assembled a selection of four of her recent Embrodery works to be juried into the annual Metro Montage exhibition at Marietta’s art museum. She’s been creating pieces like these since early this year. Most of them are approximately 9 x 12 inches, with one being two inches longer.
intuitively knitted
asymmetric freeform tunica
with 1 kimono sleeve
material, color & technique combination
as it evolves in progress
wearable in at least 5 different ways
as shown in the stream
additional cape to complete the ensemble
On Feb. 22, Intuitive Machines’ Nova-C lander, called Odysseus, completed a seven-day journey to lunar orbit and softly landed near crater Malapert A in the South Pole region of the Moon at 6:24 p.m. EST. On Feb. 24, NASA’s Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter (LRO) spacecraft passed over the landing site at an altitude of about 56 miles (90 km) and photographed Odysseus.
NASA/Goddard/Arizona State University
#NASAMarshall #NASA #NASA #moon #CLPS #CommercialLunarPayloadServices #Lander #RoboticLander
Read more about NASA’s CLPS (Commercial Lunar Payload Services)
If you are interested in my works, they are available on Getty Images.
To purchase my prints, check out PHOTOS!
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在某些照片裡面、光線及空間這兩個元素主導了一切；而在其他照片中，主導的是如岩石及木頭等物質、也可能是成長中的萬物所散發出來的堅毅… 我的出發點是 — 透過攝影這媒介 — 呈現出那些對賞圖者有所意義的自然世界的直覺觀察。
In some [photographs] the essence of light and space dominate; in others, the substance of rock and wood, and the luminous insistence of growing things....It is my intention to present — through the medium of photography — intuitive observations of the natural world which may have meaning to spectators...
～Ansel Adams, Ansel Adams: Photographs by Wings Books
Case Study 113 : Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual occurrences as originally chronicled. Some names, times, places and some facts have been, of course, altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 192__
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Event: Posh Wedding Reception
Place: Upstate New York
Time: Warm early Autumn Saturday
Angie Being Receptive
Story line:
Angie had heard about the affair, a wedding, from a list of prospective functions provided by a discreetly paid contact. It was being given for the only daughter of a wealthy politician (as if there were any non-wealthy ones!) Angie had happily invited herself to the affair, carefully dressing up in her best for the special occasion!
**
Wedding receptions were by far Angie’s favorite hunting grounds. During the season there could be anywhere from upwards of 20 high end affaires every weekend in the bigger cities, and always 2 or 3 in even the smallest of towns.
Wedding s were usually easy pickings: free food, drink and entertainment, and seldom worn jewelry made for a ready-made mix for Angie to ply her trade. For Angelica D. was a uniquely skilled pickpocket, specializing in the removal for profit of the expensive jewelry worn by the (usually be -gowned) women and young ladies’ who hauntingly dwelt in societies upper crust!
So Weddings, by their nature, were the desirable choice for Angie. One only had to avoid the Bride, her Bridesmaids, and their court, which were usually the major focus of any security present. However, there were plenty of opportunities to be had by employing her special bag of tricks on the outlaying fringe.
Angie had arrived early at the mammoth facility, to scout out the establishment and to scope out who was wearing what. Used to these affairs either being feast or famine, she could quickly tell that in this one there was cooking up a devouring banquet.
**
After Angie had entered the mammoth reception room it did not take her long to spy her first plump prospect, nicely loaded with possibilities. It was a lady, bearing a haughty look, who had been making a b-line through the crowd as way was parted for her. She was wearing a luxuriously long rusty coloured sable fur coat that hid most of her long crimson -red satin gown. What Jewels were visible, ears, fingers and wrist, were all flashing with pricy fire. In tow she held the hand of a young girl, obviously her daughter, wearing actual makeup, which, along with her fetching gown and brite jewelry, made her appear far older than she was. A handsome man , looking like the actor William Powell in a tux, followed behind the pair, husband and father, Angie presumed. She shadowed the little family as they swished their way to a corner table, conveniently located by a rear exit, for a better look over. Her fingers had started with an all too familiar tingle as she took it all in.
**
The husband helped his wife out of the sable, laying it carefully along a bench against the wall. Angie was not disappointed. A silver necklace of large matched diamonds gracefully encircled her throat. A dazzling blood ruby and diamond brooch held up the center of her gown, positioned just below the bust line. Brooches, like this one, were worth a lot once fenced, but its placement required a little more dexterity and skill than she was willing to risk. In actuality, Angie had only attempted twice before to take a brooch pinned to a gown in this fashion. She had only been successful one of those times, only to find out it was a pretty piece of paste.( Years later, as Angie’s talents became more polished, relieving ladies of their dangling brooches, like this blood ruby, became her specialty.. the Eds.) Angie’s eyes moved on. The rest of the snooty lady’s jewels matched her necklace. Long earrings, free clipped, dangling brightly from her earlobe s. A pair of wide ruby bracelets clasped tightly home around elegant red elbow length satin gloves, sparkled devastatingly, matching her brooch. Her long fingers were home to a pair of ruby and diamond rings and a third ring set with a gold band and a vulgarly large solitaire diamond.
**
Angie’s attention turned to the daughter, whom had been helped by her Father , squirming, from the chocolate coloured satin cape that she had been wearing. The youngster, all of about 10, was wearing a cream coloured long puffy sleeved dress with a brown satin sash encircling her waist that matched her Cape. The young lady possessed impossible large bright eyes. The only thing that held more shine than those doe like eyes had been the antique rhinestone diamond necklace that fell dripping ever so invitingly down the front of the precious little imp’s rich glossy gown. The rest of her matching rhinestones (obviously belonging to the child’s mother) consisted of an engaging display of a bracelet, pair of dangling, screwed on clasp earrings, and matching rings encircling a chubby finger one on each hand. It all gleamed brightly, invitingly from her svelte girlish figure. A large round pin held her sash up in place; it sparkled with what looked like a ring consisting of one caret diamonds, as unlikely as it was they could be real.
**
The two females of the family presented a pretty package indeed. Not one to pass up an invite that alluring, Angie walked by , with the pretext of heading to a back exit behind the table the little family had staked, just so she could get a closer peek.
**
Angie’s practiced eye took in a wealth of information during the few seconds it took her to walk up and pass the group, so involved with themselves they never even looked her way. Her attention focused upon the young mother first scoping head to toe.
**
Angie scrutinized the brooch; it was definitely worth the effort. In her mind’s eye, Angie envisioned the mother as a stumbling drunk “bumping into” Angie. Fingers whisking along the slippery lustrously softness of the gown, as the lady was steadied. Angie would accept the women apologies and the pair would part their ways, Angie from the young mother, and the magnificent brooch from the rich satiny red gown. But then the mother raised her head, looking up past Angie, towards a commotion being made behind her. Typical Angie thought, she doesn’t recognize me, so I don’t exist, like some sort of servant. But it was as she caught the young mother in full profile that she realized this lady looked strikingly similar to another woman who had been wearing an expensive dress of teal charmeuse that Angie had had been having a long conversation with, while relieving the woman’s finger of a costly diamond sapphire ring. It had happened only just last weekend at a formal function, and Angie figured she may have not recognized her in passing, but may if Angie were to use one of her approaches again with the intent of taking some of her jewelry, he memory may be jarred, and she may remember her missing ring. This was why Angie only allowed herself to ply her trade for no more than a month in any given place per year. This was from a lesson she had learned early on in her career. And so, for that reason alone, Angie decided to, at least temporarily, abandon any designs she had on the young mother’s brooch, allowing her devious intentions to evaporate from her mind like smoke on the wind. There were plenty more fish in the sea she told herself.
**
Angie still allowed herself a quick appraisal of the squirming 10 year old. She admired the glossy dress of slippery satin that her mother had conveniently dressed her daughter up in, as it fell spilling down to her black open toed shoes. Angie’s fingers started to tingle; this was a perfect tickling gown. Angie liked to think of any long dress or gown that swept down to a females heels as a” tickling gown”. All it took was a strategically placed foot timed with a well place nudge to send the chosen victim tumbling. During the ensuing diversion, Angie would use her long subtle fingers to swiftly probe along the gowned figure, tickling she like to call it due to the tingling sensation of the usually rich material of the victim’s attire. In this fashion, a pre-targeted piece of valuable jewelry could then be easily acquired, no matter what its placement had been on the unfortunate female. If only the chatty youngster had something on better than rhinestones. It was a crying shame to have a child that young dolled up like an adult, but not wearing adult jewels.
**
Angie continued to walk past, unseen, and went out the door. She found herself in a large serenity garden of roses and shrubs, surrounded by a 10 foot high well-trimmed hedge. The sort of garden one usually found in those days around upscale Churches. The only exit was a gate leading onto the parking lot on the side of the church. Here was positioned a solitary, lonely guard in a neat little guard hut. In the opposite, far corner was a statue of Cupid, arrow drawn, standing above a display of blooming moss roses at the end opposite to the gate. There was always potential in places like these.
**
Angie had started to walk over to the Cupid statue when she heard the exit door open. Turning, she saw the young girl, whose mother’s brooch Angie had been scoping out, looking out the door. She snuck through, running out alone, silky tickling gown swishing out behind her. Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched the girls rhinestones sparkle radiantly. She actually turned to head towards the path the unsuspecting child was running up, flexing her fingers as she contemplating a little warm up practice. Angie watched as the dolled up imps necklace flashed with pinpricks of coloure as it bounced to and fro as she ran happily up the path .Angie turned her back to the girl, waiting to hear the telltale click of her heels come up just behind her. She would then move, bumping into the girl as she passed, tripping her to the ground. After which Angie would help her up, removing the girl’s fancy necklace in the process. Come to Mama Angie whispered under her breath, waiting to make her move as the skipping heels grew ever louder.
**
But then Angie froze, hearing the clicking of the exit door again opening behind her. She checked her stride letting the daughter slither past without a glance. She headed again towards the statue, watching her prize move on ahead. Then she heard the father in the background calling out to his little princess. The youngster turned, and ran back, beaming at Angie as she passed. Angie smiled back, her eyes again traveling to the girls neckline, and the sparkling jewelry the outlined her throat. It had been a silly thought she chided herself, as the girl passed from view. If only the necklace had been real, and the father about ten minutes later in discovering his daughter absence. It would have been an unbelievably easy pluck and she could be out the gate before anyone was the wiser. And the best part was that they would probably believe the scampering girl had just lost it in the garden. And, while the parents were looking about, Angie would have been free to renter to ply her trade again. As it was, it was silly of Angie, risking her opportunity on a child’s bauble worth a mere pittance compared to some of the other offerings so readily being flaunted this evening by her adult counterparts.
**
Angie continued her casual stroll through the Garden, happily playing over in her mind some of the jewels that she would like to see adorning the female guests inside, and the scenarios she may be using to acquire them
**
Finding herself approaching the guard hut, she allowed herself a glance back. Jealously she watched the father, who had caught and was carrying his slippery attired daughter, heading back inside. How Angie wished she had been the one carrying the squirming little imp, it would have been like a smorgasbord, with jewels instead of food. Pity her mother had not put the good stuff on the daughter, she sighed to herself. Tonight she would have to work for her butter. She walked past the bored guard, nodding at him, receiving a rather lecherous look in return. A smile was forming across her cunning face, for now it was time to get down to the real business at hand.
**
The affair turned out to be quite a showcase for the very rich. Who were indiscreetly flaunting their riches, trying to outdo one another, probably for the benefit of the politicians’ attention? Certainly not for the attention of the designer satin gowned and flashy diamonded daughter, whom most of the guests hardly knew, or had ever met.
**
Angie always felt like a little kid in a candy shoppe at these lavish affairs.
She spent the first part of the reception mingling and thoroughly enjoying the show her the reception’s guests were u wittingly putting on. Angie, wearing no jewels herself, was something of an anomaly compared to her fellow guests.
**
There were over a thousand luxuriously coloured, squawking female birds and their young chicks pompously displaying valuable finery, oblivious of the cat amongst them waiting to pounce. Angie patently mingled, watching as the adult guests had their fill of food and drink.
Once their guard began to relax, Angie raised hers’, her probingly skillful fingers now more than prepared to begin and ply her trade. For the more they imbibed, the less guarded they were, both about themselves and their female offspring. Angie would start with the adults, 2 or 3 of the right pieces of jewelry, once acquired, and would mean she could call it a night and have enough to support her for a solid month. If she came up empty in that department, her back up would then center on the female off-spring, daughters and nieces.
Most of said offspring would be by then scattered about, aware that their parents were no longer paying them any heed, exploring and playing, sporting their fancy satin gowns, silken dresses, and their dainty jewelry, ripe for the picking. Giving pickpockets like Angie endless opportunity to ply their trade on them, once they had finished working through the adults. Or if the thieves were beginners, plenty of easy practice while “learning the ropes!”
**
Now, when Angie herself was just starting out as a young pickpocket, she stumbled across a treatise written by a man using the pseudonym “Gaston Monescu”. Written around 1826, entitled the Cutpurse: skilles, artes and Secretes of the Dip, it covered the various tactics and moves used by master pickpockets.
Angie had studied it religiously, especially a ploy called the “Necklace Flimp.” This tactic was primarily used for body thieves working alone. Angie had been surprised to learn that a pickpocket could raise his/her skill level above just acquiring wallets. Having the ability to lift a woman’s necklace amazed her, not to mention the profit that could be realized. With practice, Angie had found that not only was it a good technique for acquiring necklaces, but it worked for other pieces of worn jewelry as well.
It was relatively simple process, but took a long time to master.
First part was to employ psychology and watch the potential victim for the unique movements and quirks in their personality and actions that could provide an opportunity for her skills. Then observe the selected piece the victim wore, for value, type of clasp, make, and accessibility. The second part was to employ a bump, slip, or grasp, and in one motion, flick open the studied clasp and send the piece away from the body by either pulling and palming, or dropping it to the floor or ground for retrieval later. If she was noticed, it was “sorry, miss, very clumsy of me” “here let me get if for you, no harm done?” Then walk away and let the waters settle before trying yet again (sometimes even on the same person!)
Angie had practiced the jewelry flimp until she had the technique totally mastered. Starting out first on specially dressed up mannequins in her apartment, than trying it on small pieces of cheap baubles worn by real women in crowded streets and stores. Then on younger, less guarded, better jewelry wearing young girls attending proms and social dances. Young looking for her age at the time, Angie had fit right in amongst them. Then, finally, she graduated to lifting the better jewels of the older, wealthy women attending society’s finer parties and receptions. And it was this path that led her here today, and would also lead several unlucky females to report missing jewelry to their respective insurance companies.
**
See Album “Angie having a Ball” for additional background on our master thief with the light fingers.
**
Angie now eagerly employed those useful talents learned from monsieur Monescu’s little pamphlet at the wedding reception. She mingled freely, carrying around a drink that never touched her lips. She watched and learned, her trained eyes missing very little. Soon, like that hypothetical kid in a candy shoppe, Angie’s head was spinning from so much to choose from that she really could not make any easy choice. So, she waited and watched patiently, knowing opportunity would knock.
**
Then, like it usually happened with Angie, the first genuine opportunity unexpectedly presented herself. Angie literally was run into a rather awkward, spindly lady in thick glasses clad in a fetchingly expensive costume consisting of a thick silver satin blouse with hanging ruffles down its front, combined with a long rustling tiered skirt that swept down to the top of her open toed silver high heels. Her diamond jewelry shone with exuberant flames as they caught the light from the many chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling. The lady expressed frantically her apologies, placing a hand with well ringed fingers on Angie’s shoulder, where they sparkled merrily. No worries Angie said smiling, her eyes taking it all in without appearing to move. She let the frazzled lady leave, allowing her a head start, it was only sporting to do so.
**
Angie shadowed her quarry for a while, seemingly rewarded for her efforts when the lady managed to spill a bit of her drink down on her skirt. In a show of flashing silvery satin and diamonds ,she retreated and disappeared into a nearby powder room, with Angie following eagerly, opportunity knocking.
**
As Angie grabbed onto the closing powder room door, a mid- twenty something girl in a deep green velvet gown came out. Her only jewelry was a wide diamond bracelet wrapped around a wrist of the matching long green gloves she wore. Angie caught it out of the corner of her eye, realizing that it was as expensive as it was bright. But it was her friend, a willowy short haired pretty young thing in a glamorous Chocolate Satin gown that made Angie’s jaw drop. Her jewels, like her friends, were also sparse, but enormously pricy. The long white satin gloves that graced her hands and arms also held matching bracelets, thin, but each one worth the effort. But her real eye catcher was the row of authentic, one caret white diamonds that were rippling exquisite fire along her throat. Angie held the door for them, nodding to as they passed. Noses in the air, they did not appear to notice Angie. Then, with the ladies backs to her, Angie abandoned Miss silver satin and turned to follow. Angie got in behind the two with the intention of getting a closure examination of the clasp of the fiery diamond necklace Miss Chocolate satin was wearing.
**
However, Angie never got her closer look. For at that moment the tossing of the bride’s boutique was announced and Angie was overwhelmed by a mad dash of single ladies heading for the bride. On a lark she allowed herself to be swept along, losing sight of Miss Chocolate satin, but found herself right smack behind Miss Green velvet and her cheerfully sparkling diamond bracelet, a beautifully expensive piece that would have cost someone a king’s ransom. Angie’s fingers began their all too familiar tingling, eager for a chance to acquire jewelry that valuable, but not for any king, just for herself!
**
Though the night was still relatively early, and Angie still had visions of those exquisite rippling diamonds of the pretty Miss in chocolate satin on her mind, she simply could not pass up this opportunity. Angie wedged herself close behind her chosen victim as the multitude of hopeful young women pressed forward to try their luck. As the Bride teased her guests before getting ready to toss her bouquet of white and red roses, Angie expertly scrutinized the bracelet as it dangled from the green velvet glove. When the bride finally turned her back and raised her arms every one of the richly clad single women’s eyes was focused on the bride’s bouquet, Angie’s eyes were fixated on the bracelet. With the music playing loud, the crowd giggling and laughing, and all eyes focused on the gorgeously outfitted young long haired bride, Angie again felt opportunity knocking. Her pulse beating in rhythm with the music, she made ready to seize the chance when it presented itself. The roses flew through the air and all the women raised their hands high, looking all for the world like being involved in a stick-up. Angie timed it perfectly, snapping the clasp, and snatching the bracelet easily away from the gloved wrist of its owner as she raised her arms high to grab at the boutique. In her excitement, shared by everyone, Miss Green velvet ( who did not catch the bouget of roses) never felt a thing. Angie had smirked as she left the giggling group, stowing securely the purloined diamonds, as she imagined what it would have been like to watch that group robbed in a mass stick-up. The money that some enterprising soul could have made from that haul would have been astronomical.
**
She went to the open bar, lighting her first cigarette; she ordered her first real drink of the night. She could feel the coolness of the weighty bracelet in its hiding spot, and Angie, pleased with herself, calmly sipped her drink as she relished in the moment. The toss of the Brides Boutique was, in Angie’s experienced opinion, one of the three common events occurring during a wedding reception that were fertilely prime times for pickpocketing. (Editor’s note.. Miss D. mysteriously never divulged what she considered the other two prime events to be….)
**
She looked about without a worry in the world, coolly watching the antics of some of the younger women on the dance floor. She spied the young miss in the green velvet gown over in a corner talking in an animated fashion with several other women. Green velvet gown’s now bare velvet glove, apparently not noticed by anyone but Angie. One of her group was displaying some bright emeralds peeking through the long silver fur she was wearing, obviously she was leaving, and she was talking excitedly about something to the group formed around her! Nowhere in sight was Miss chocolate satin, too bad, Angie would have loved another peek before leaving.
Angie watched around the room causally, as the cold bracelet pressed expensively against her figure from its hiding spot. She eventually lost track of green velvet and her friends while finishing her drink. Setting down the empty glass, she decided it was time to call it a night. The bracelet now in her possession was easily worth as much as the 2 or 3 separate pieces she usually acquired at functions like these, added together! And, she needed her rest, Angie had a couple of plans the next day, one revolving around the female guests who would be attending an upscale afternoon prom fashion show a, the other, an evening opera performance (invited guests only, and her contact had managed to supply a ticket, at a hefty price!) No rest for the wicked, Angie told herself.
**
On her way out of the main lobby, she found herself leaving behind the very lady in green velvet whose bracelet was now in Angie’s possession. She was with the same gaggle of her similarly dressed friends, including the one exhibiting the emeralds. However, miss chocolate satin was still not visible. They were laughing and joking as they collected their assorted pretty wraps, obviously heading for a nightclub. If she had not already relieved one of them of a bauble, Angie might have invited herself along, if only to have a go at some emeralds. Angie hesitated about leaving withy them, then shrugged, followed the group out the door past the pair of bored rent a cops.
**
She remembered thinking, as she followed the elegant young princesses ,their fluid gowns peeking from under their various furs and wraps, how shallow the very rich could be. She wondered if Miss Green velvets friends had even noticed that she had had diamonds around the wrist of her glove, let alone that they were now missing. She wondered how long it would be before the bracelets loss was discovered. She figured it would be several hours, long enough for its owner not to be sure what place they had been lost. As young Miss Green velvet fancy gown and her friends turned right outside the exit, Angie turned left, heading towards the guard hut at the entrance to the garden.
She decided not to follow them but rather circle around the outside of the garden to give her victim time to leave.
**
That simple decision to make a left turn proved to be a major turning point in Angie’s fortunes that evening.
**
As Angie passed the hut guarding the entrance to the serenity garden, she noticed it was deserted.
It was as she was looking it over, that she heard the sounds of clicking heels moving fast, followed by the sounds of a young girl giggling. On the alert she stole to the backside of the hut, soon spying a splash of something blue and silky between the gaps of a couple of large bushes. Her senses on their highest peak, she began to move cautiously in, hoping the female making the noise would be in need of aid and comfort perhaps.
**
She soon spotted a young lady of about 14 bending over, hands on her knees as she panted heavily. Her back was to Angie, and what pretty back it was. She was nicely attired in a long gown of shiny material dyed deep blue like an afternoon, cloudless summer sky. The gown cascaded down along her petite figure, spilling out on the ground around her feet. Her hair was pulled back, easily displaying a pair of small diamond and sapphire earrings, not rhinestones for this one, but the real McCoy. Around one finger was a gold ring with sapphires, and from her left wrist dangled a thin silver bracelet with a row of diamond chips, both pretty, both valuably real. But it was her last piece of visible jewelry that stole the show. It hung, swinging to and from her neck on a thick braided chain of solid silver. On its end, like a hypnotists prism, was a silver pendent in the shape of a flower, with 1 inch long, pear shaped real diamonds as petals and a fully 2 inch in circumference center stone of deep sea blue. Angie watched it, her eyes following it for a full minute, its expensive fire sealing its own fate as Angie began flexing her fingers. Angie took her eyes off of it and looked around to see why the princess had been running. But all was still as the girl continued to peek through the branches towards the back door leading into the hall. Angie silently approached, and walking up to the pretty miss she bent down and in a friendly tone, asked who she was running from.
**
I played a joke on my sister, and now I’m hiding from her, piped the girl breathlessly, as Angie placed a hand upon the girls shoulder in a conspiratorial fashion, said shoulder made silky soft by the gowns half sleeve.
**
I know a better place where you can hide from her, Angie whispered in the girl’s ear, the dangling earring ever so close to her lips. The girl looked up, smiling, and Angie pointed towards the guard hut, and as the girl looked, Angie’s fingers glided up along the silky shoulder and lifted the thick silver chain up from the back of the gowns’ scooped collar. Come Angie said, and as the girl rose Angie’s fingers nimbly flicked open the chains’ lobster clasp, holding onto the clasp as the other end of the chain slipped down, allowing the pendent to slide free and fall onto the grass at the girls feet, where it lay shimmering. Angie moved her hand to the girls shoulder, squeezing it, while slipping off the braided silver chain with her other hand, whisking it back and away from the guileless young girl. Angie led her princess away from the spot and walked with her to the guard’s hut, still empty, where she had her hide neath the counter.
**
Angie turned and went back to claim the pendent, there still was no sign of any sister. She secured the pendent, joining it with the chain and bracelet, and headed deeper into garden. Her plan was to watch the hut and see which way the girl went after getting bored waiting. But as she skirted the perimeter her plans were changed when, upon rounding a corner of the path at the far end, she saw yet another back belonging to a solitary lady in her late thirties, clad in a long slinky yellow coloured gown of expensively shiny taffeta, bending over to smell the yellow roses on a bush. Instinctively Angie knew two things about her. One was that whatever jewels this lady would be wearing, they would be expensive, and the other was that with an expensive gown like that; the lady would undoubtedly be wearing her jewels. Angie suddenly became aware that her fingers were tingling, as an all too familiar whelming feeling again delightfully washed over her.
**
Angie found herself automatically turning back onto the garden path. She headed around the women and went down to the cupid’s statue, where now out of sight, she carefully hid the purloined bracelet, and still warm fiery pendent and its ‘fancy silvery braided chain..
**
She then headed towards the unsuspecting flower admirer. The ladies’ long brunette hair had fallen, flowing down the backside of her shiny taffeta gown. Angie could see rings and a bracelet gleaming as she was holding up the rose to her face. A long double rope of pearls hung swaying deliciously from her throat. Coming up behind her Angie stood watching; calculating until the lady rose and with a start realized she was not alone.
**
Pretty Angie said, her eyes on the pearls now draping down the front of her marks yellow gown. They are lovely, are they not? The damsel responded thinking Angie was referring to the roses. Just like the ones in the park, my husband and I walked through on our way to catch a cab today. Actually, I meant your dress Angie said complimentary. Thank you the lady practically squealed, I love the way it flows, and she swirled it about to show Angie, who got an eyeful of sparkly jewelry for her efforts. As she continued engaging the women in conversation, Angie decided upon attempting for the woman’s necklace of pearl. Seeing opportunity knocking when Yellow Taffeta pulled her long hair forward so it hang down the front of her gorgeous gown, laying silkily over one shoulder, nicely exposing the pricy necklaces clasp. Angie looked around, they were alone, out of site of the opposite end of the garden where the inside door was, and the guards hut with it’s pretty occupant.
**
Angie, using the marks interest in roses to her advantage, managed to steer the capricious damsel in shiny yellow over to the cupid’s statue. There, she placed a hand upon a silky taffeta covered shoulder, and pointed down to the shrub of moss roses growing at the foot of the statue . When she stooped down to get a closer look, Angie’s fingers whisked from her marks shoulder to the clasp, in a single effort with two fingers, lifted it by the clasp, and snapped it open. At that moment the mark cried “spider” and jumped up, backing into Angie, who watched helplessly as the pearls fell down from the damsel’s throat and slipped along the front of the yellow taffeta gown. They fell with a soft plop unto the ground at their mistress’s feet. Angie tried to lead her away, hoping to come back and reclaim the necklace. But as Angie pointed to another rose bush some distance away, the lady took a step forward, instead of back, planting her feet right onto the pearl necklace. Hey she exclaiming, what’s that, looking down to her high heeled foot? Oh, my pearls the lady squealed again, a glittering hand shooting to feel around her throat. Angie reached down, and reluctantly retrieved them from the base of the rose bush for the squealing lady in yellow . My husband would not have been pleased if I had lost these, she said as Angie held them, feeling their pricey smoothness.
**
She asked if Angie could help her put them on, my maid usually does this sort of thing, you know. Angie reluctantly complied, re- hanging the pearls as the pretty damsel held up her hair, and reluctantly redid the clasp. The Damsel thanked Angie by embracing her in a full hug, her diamond and pearl earring hitting Angie’s cheek. But Angie’s arms were being held by the hugging woman, so Angie was able to only watch the tantalizingly close earring sway free. Angie left yellow-gowned damsel in the garden, getting nothing for her efforts other than the feel of an expensive gown of the likes she could probably never afford to own.
**
With the pretty damsel hovering around the cupid statue, Angie decided to go back into the reception hall until the coast was clear. She carefully looked towards the Guards hut, and seeing that the guard had returned, figured the girl, so fetchingly clad in blue, had been rousted out, so that loose end was probably tied up. She just had to keep a careful eye out. The quite valuable bracelet and pricy necklace with its pendent were well hidden; there was absolutely no danger of someone stumbling over it.
**
Truth was, Angie had found her appetite wetted and once again visions of a lady in chocolate brown satin exhibiting a row of flashy diamonds, teased her thoughts. An accomplished pickpocket like herself had a couple of well-practiced ploys she could utilize to obtain a tight fitting necklace from its mistress. In addition, Angie was now determined to find her and to risk a try. She had really nothing to lose.
**
It took almost an hour of hunting amongst the now well liquored, gaily mingling crowd before Angie could admit to herself that there was absolutely no sign of the willowy lady in the stunning chocolate satin gown. Damn she thought to herself, those diamonds were something special. She shrugged it off, reciting in her mind a wicked little mantra of hers, “Another one who got away, a chance to lose her jewels to Angie on another day!” She strolled about pondering on what her next course of action could be. There had been no sign of the pretty girl in blue whose necklace Angie now had hidden away, and Miss Green Velvet was definitely out of the picture, so she felt that it was still safe to try to pluck one last bird or chick. In her hunt for the brown, Angie had seen several inviting prospects; one lady(purple satin, diamonds), two girls( ivory silk, pearled pin; red satin, gold necklace set with chips of precious stones), and now was weighing the risks.
It was at that point she once again espied the thickly bespectacled awkwardly introverted young lady invitingly wearing the thick silver satin ruffled blouse, which she had been tailing much earlier. And as Angie watched here, she again accepted the invitation. Her prey had appeared on the dance floor, being led around by a rather charming young man. That would make a dandy consolation prize Angie drooled to herself happily as she took in the sparkling show put on by the dancers jewels.
**
Angie looked her over, reacquainting herself with the jewels she so nicely was displaying. A pair of long earrings cascaded down from her earlobes where they precariously held on by antique silver claps. Angie relished the opportunity to “flimp” pairs of earrings like these. Heavily jeweled, each one was worth a tidy sum. Angie mulled this as she continued to study the jewels of her appealingly dressed new target.
**
The girl’s only ring was a solitaire diamond of at least 3 carets on a thick solid gold band worn vulnerably loose on her un-gloved, bare ring finger. A wide silver cuff bracelet with what appeared to be at least seven rows of matching, shimmering diamonds was dangling around her left wrist (she was right handed Angie observed) . The bracelet had a habit of lying over her sleeve, and Angie could see that it was a costly tiffany piece, whose clasp was exceptionally easy to flick open. A diamond pendent hung swinging from her satiny ruffles, held by an extravagantly thick silver chain with a simple , small eye in hook clasp. The Diamonds in the pendent were as shimmery as stars plucked from the night’s sky.
Angie remembered reading that in a poem from a book she had picked up years earlier in a library, while stalking a young mother in a satin dress, wearing an authentic Gruen Watch on one wrist, and a bracelet of diamonds on the other, that had gone into the library in pursuit of her young son running inside. Like that young mother, It was obvious that this lady in silver satin was not accustomed to wearing jewels, and that set probably spent most of their days lying in a safe. Angie licked her lips as she imagined what the other contents of that safe might look like
**
Angie moved in to allow herself a much closer appraisal of her potential victim’s jewels.
The young lady was totally oblivious to anything but the rather surprisingly strikingly handsome man who to all appearances was her Fiancée, who was holding her ever so close. But Angie was able to see enough of what she wanted to. The young Ladies’ thick satin blouse shone richly in the lights, moving like glistening wet liquid silver, while from her waist spilled the long black skirt with satiny tiers that swished and swayed nicely along her figure as she uneasily danced. Her jewels were bursting with colour as they played hide and seek with Angie’s watchful eyes. From all appearances, they were a mismatched couple. He seemed to know everyone and moved with a confident air, she was just the opposite. It made an enticingly intriguing package indeed for someone with Angie’s skills.
**
Silver Satin was the perfect “Gaston Monescu” type of mark, a perfect combination of classic mannerisms, clothing and Jewels worth anyone’s efforts to take. This was the only fly in the ointment that Angie observed. For by the bar she could see that two other sets of eyes were watching the same young lady in shiny satin and blazing diamonds. Angie intuitively knew they were drooling over acquiring jewels she was wearing.
**
She had noticed the pair of young men in loose fitting suits when they had entered a little earlier about the same time as Angie’s reappearance. They were obviously casing the jewels of any woman, young, or old, who walked past them. Angie knew their type, simple thieves, with no real skills outside of holding a knife in a dark alley to the throat of their victim while they unceremoniously searched and stripped them of their treasures. Angie saw that they were whispering amongst themselves and instinctively knew they were watching and waiting for the fetchingly clumsy silver clad lady clad loaded with diamonds, to leave the “establishment”.
**
She is mine Angie whispered, possessively snarling the words under her breath. She looked around as she thought about how best to handle the situation. Her eyes opened wide as she saw a familiar woman waiting by the coat checkroom. Perfect she purred, placing an unlit a cigarette in her mouth and heading over the bar.
**
She sauntered up next to them and ordered a drink, catching their eyes she asked for a light. As they obliged she took a pull and puffed out smoke, asking in a casual tone, “how about my jewels? Boys!” They could see perfectly well that she was not wearing any, and one snarled, “What’s your game, sister?” Angie snarled back in her best cop like manner, “We know what you boys are up to, and we suggest you both call it a night!” “Yer no cop sister”, they challenged, calling her bluff,” what’s your angle!” Angie calmly looked towards the entrance, perfect she mused as she saw their eyes follow hers, “Maybe not” she stated, “but see that lady being helped into the black mink?” “The shiny yellow dame?” one of em asked? “ “yes”, Angie replied taking a puff on her cigarette before going on, “ well that man’s she’s with used to be mine .” “ Now, I aint one to hold a grudge, but, those pearls she’s waltzing around with are worth plenty. And her rings, they are an easy two grand alone.”
**
Angie could tell she had captured their interest, and that they were now paying rapt attention to the lady in the thick yellow taffeta gown whose necklace Angie had almost acquired in the serenity garden. One of them looked at Angie, a suspicious look crossing his mug, “What’s innit for you sister?!” He demanded. Angie looked at him, dripping with sarcastic innocence. “Nothing brother, other than to make sure the jewels of the dame who stole my husband get home safely .” “I just worry,’ Angie went on, “there is a park in front of their residence and that dame in yellow likes to stroll through it to smell the roses after their cab drops them off.” They watched the couple leave, her expensive yellow gown sweeping provocatively at her gold high- heeled shoed feet. Angie looked them in the eyes and said smoothly, “ Gentlemen such as yourselves may want to do a good deed and follow them home to make sure some miscreant doesn’t spot her in those valuable jewels and mink. Not to mention her man’s gold watch and three hundred sawbucks in his wallet!” Angie winked at the pair, “If you catch my drift.” She added.
**
Still not totally convinced about what Angie was selling them, but equally unsure over who Angie was, both men got up and quickly headed towards the main exit as the last slip of an expensive yellow taffeta gown disappeared through the door. Smugly, Angie puffed on her cigarette as she watched them leave.
**
It was then that a hand was placed on Angie’s shoulder from behind.
**
She froze for a split second, before becoming aware of the soft mummer of satin, and of a slender finger was home to a sparkling sapphire ring. Angie smiled and turned around, facing the girl. Pardon me ma’am, she says politely, but do you remember me? Of course dear, Angie gushes while beaming at the forlorn looking miss in the fetching blue gown; I met you in the garden. Yes she confirms, but I lost my necklace somewhere and I was wondering if you remember if I had it on when we met? Angie’s heart leapt, bless this babe in the woods, thinking her necklace had merely been lost, never suspecting that someone like, say, Angie could have been the cause. She absolutely adored the trusting nature of rich girls this age. For that aspect of their purity had allowed Angie, far too easily sometimes, to lift many a jewel from well attired unsuspecting young princesses like this one. Who was now standing before her, miserable, her desirable diamond and sapphire earrings dangling ever so beckoningly, her sad puppy eyes pleading ever so sweetly, and her missing necklace closer than she could ever imagine.
**
No dear, I did not see you with a necklace, Angie lied coolly, as she reached out and stroked the girl tenderly alongside her face, her fingers touching one of the earrings. Angie was looking her fully in the eye, you didn’t lose anything else, and did you dear she asked with a concerned tone. The girl checked her earrings, bracelet and ring (Angie smiled to herself, silently thinking thanks for the info kid!) But when she spoke, it was with hopeful words laced with honey, If you want, I can help you look, my dear. The girl’s eyes lit up for a second, thank you ma’am, I wanted to, but papa said to wait until tomorrow when the light is better.
Angie smiled winningly, don’t worry dear, I’m sure its somewhere in the garden. Someone will find it, she promised, thinking to herself maliciously, and keep it for their own profit!
**
Thank you Ma’am she chirped, at the encouraging words that had been spoken, luckily she could not hear the ones Angie was thinking to herself, and turning moved off, her scrumptious gown swishing pleasantly around her silver heels. Angie watched, as the girl disappeared in the crowd Angie marked her direction.
**
Angie Imagined if the girl had accepted her offer, and she had left with the vulnerable, unguarded princess to search in the garden, and in the process help relieve her of her remaining jewels. There would be enough light with the gas lamps that lined the paths in the garden. Enough light, so that as Angie helped the princess look, her fingers could slip ever so delicately slip in and search along her shiny sky blue gown.
**
Angie licked her lips slowly as she fantasied about the search. The girl bending down to look under a bush, Angie placing her knee sharply in a certain spot below the girl’s armpit, temporarily numbing her upper body. Allowing Angie enough time to pull off both her earrings without feeling it,( this also worked well on working off broaches placed in upper parts of gowns and dresses, not to mention necklaces!) The bracelet would be no problem; it would be the easiest and probably the first, snatched off while the rich girl’s attention was easily diverted away. Since she was not wearing silky gloves, her ring would be the trickiest, but manageable, by either having her walk too close to a water fountain and hopefully having her get her fingers wet, or by simple holding onto her hand and tripping her by stepping on her gowns hem. And just like that, Angie would become that much richer, the rich girl that much poorer. And it all would be done without giving the girl any additional stress, like say she had run into the two muggers Angie had chased off. They may not have been content with just the jewels of a girl dressed as she was that they had found wandering alone in the gardens at night.
**
As Angie excitedly thought about these things, she had trained her focus back upon her original meal ticket, whom for the second time that evening had almost been allowed to slip through Angie’s light fingers. Watching with half lidded eyes, the still dancing couple not unlike a wolf watches lambs, waiting for one to make an ill-fated move away from the flock. The lamb’s fate was sealed, when a vivacious blonde in a long wispy silken dress cut in on the dancing couple. Asking miss silver satin’s fiancé for a dance. He obliged, leaving his shimmering fiancée unaccompanied, nakedly exposed to the wolf that was Angie.
**
More than one way to skin a cat Angie thought, tingling from the thrill of the hunt her prey, now in a reachable situation. She happily headed towards the spot where Miss silver satin had moved off to. A small table, located conveniently by a powder room. One the way she grabbed a half full glass of red wine off a table. Angie circled around young miss silver satin, taking a position up about two table lengths behind her. She casually scoured the area; most of the nearby tables were deserted.
Knowing the band would stop playing soon for the evening; most of the couples were out on the dance floor. All in all, the situation presented the perfect opportunity for some one of Angie’s persuasion.
**
Angie watched as the young lady picked up a glittery silver clutch and opening it, started to search inside. Angie moved swiftly, catching up behind her , tripping intentionally into her, splashing some wine onto the front of the silver satin blouse as the unfortunate lady dropped her purse in surprise. Oh my gosh, I did not see you, miss silver satin pleaded apologetically to Angie, more concerned over Angie’s feelings than her soiled satin blouse. Angie accepted her apology and, producing a lacey silk handkerchief, began to wipe themselves both down.
Angie’s practiced eyes swiftly took it all in. Miss silver satin’s pretty earrings swaying out vulnerably from her long straggly hair as it fell into her face. The clasp of her necklace was also exposed and within easy grasp. A s she reached out for the floor to steady herself, Angie’s eyes took in the sparkling ring on her now wetted finger and then watched the wide bracelet with its’ easily open able clasp slip up glitteringly over her sleeve.
The girl, now thoroughly flustered, started to rise, tripping over her slippery long skirt( with no help from Angie) Angie caught her, taking advantage of the split second opening she had been waiting for and Angie took it, making her selection as she steadied the poor thing with one hand, as the other caressed along a slick silver satin back. Angie’s long supple fingers darted in and deftly did their trick, this time with no spiders interfering. She quickly removed her chosen glittery prize from the distracted lady, who never noticed so much as a prick as Angie removed the expensive piece from her person in the confusion.
**
Angie secreted he shiny jewel as she helped miss silver satin collect herself. Than they rose, and Angie happily accepted miss silver satin profuse and obviously well used, apology. Then, as she fumbled nervously with her thick glasses, Angie laid a calming hand upon her shoulder, her fingers relishing in the richness of her victims sleek ruffled blouse. Miss silver satin was by now so distracted and embarrassed that Angie was all but assured of a clean get away.
However, as an extra measure of caution Angie intentionally jarred silver satin’s elbow of the hand steadying her eye glasses. Thus sending her glasses falling from her face to the floor with a small clatter, then Angie kicked them under a table before the startled lady could react. Angie offered to help, but the lady implored that she was okay, just needed to find her glasses. Angie left as Miss silver satin started to frantically grope around for her glasses, her silver blouse and remaining jewels shimmering brightly along their miserable mistress..
Angie took her leave, knowing that once she found her glasses, Miss silver satin would flee for sanctuary into the ladies powder room, buying her more than enough time for Angie to make her escape. Taking one last look over the dance floor, she blithely saw that miss silver satins fiancé was still in the clutches of the vivacious blonde-haired girl, still safely out of the picture. Angie made her way with purpose to the rear exit leading to the garden that she had used earlier, intending to head out into the serenity garden to collect the hidden bracelet and pendent, adding them to her purloined plunder.
**
As she walked amongst the mostly deserted tables, her mind went to the woman in yellow taffeta and imagined that right about now she would be standing with raised arms and a forlorn look. Ruefully wincing as the man who was holding her mink busily stripped those luscious pearls from the neckline of her tight gown, as the shiny yellow material gleamed in the moonlight! Serves her right for being afraid of spiders, Angie thought unforgivingly.
***
Angie’s mind also went to the poor young princess in blue with the missing necklace. She looked towards the area she had headed, opposite of the back exit to the garden. She reluctantly decided not to push her luck, there was a sister and parents to contend with, and she really had no time left. So she decided to call it a day, a rather successful day, and made her way to retrieve her loot.
**
Angie had now reached the now deserted table by the back exit where the lady in the crimson gown and blood red rubies had been earlier, along with her rhinestone encumbered 10 year old daughter and handsome husband.
**
She paused between the table and the bench, something was not quite right, She eyed the area around the dance floor for any signs of trouble that may be centered on the quite valuable jewels now in her possession. All was quiet, except for a little murmur behind her. Turning she looked at the bench and was shocked to discover the soundly asleep ten year old, using the long rusty sable fur as a blanket. What have we here, Angie thought, licking her lips wickedly?
**
Angie pursed her lips, checking the coast; spotting the young girl’s parents, still on the dance floor, a safe distance away the other side of the room. No sign of miss silver satin. No one else was nearby. Perfect. She went over, bending down so the table hid her. The child looked so vulnerably innocent, sound asleep as she lay on her side, facing Angie. She was clutching an arm of the sable like a warm fuzzy teddy bear, her ring sparkling. Angie gently tugged the mink from the girl’s clasp, and gradually pulled until the fur swished away from along the inert silken figure on the bench, where it fell into a pile on the floor. The child looked very innocent, very vulnerable, like a sleeping princess. An earring lay exposed over one shoulder, her necklace dangled down slightly askew from her slender throat, the pin holding her sash, all of which shone brightly now that it was exposed to the low lights of the ballroom, still called out. Too bad, Angie thought to herself, too bad the mother had not dressed her little doll in real diamonds.
**
Angie again looked to the dance floor; she could see the mother’s jewelry twinkling brightly as the child’s parents danced close, very unaware of anything else but themselves. She looked back over the girl, contemplating. But the song was winding down, Angie stooped to pick up the sable, bird in hand she thought, and placing the rich fur over her arm, stood just as the song ended. Looking at the exit door, so near and yet so far, she started to hasten to it, but checked herself as the band immediately started another, rather slow song that Angie knew quite well.
**
She hesitated, incredibly, everyone was staying on the floor for the final dance, she looked back at the bench, and the sleeping imps exposed jewels still shined, tempting her to come for them. Angie knew that she would only have about four minutes. Always open to new challenges, Angie chose to answer that sweet little invite that the necklace was extending out to her. Checking once again to make sure the parents was still obliviously dancing; she laid the mink down by the door and eased back to the bench. Kneeling down, Angie began to perform the delicate operation.
**
Lifting up the necklace she gently tugged it loose from around the sleeping child’s neck until the clasp appeared. She subtly flicked open the clasp, then shamelessly slipped the necklace from around its perch on the little whelp’s throat. It flickered like some slithering shiny snake, glittering as it came away. Like taking candy from a baby, Angie drooled happily, as she let the necklace run along her fingertips while watching the sleeping princess for a few seconds.
**
Her fitted cream coloured dress shimmered with expensive richness in the shadowy light. The poor thing was so soundly asleep after her long exhausting day that Angie figured she could have peeled the dress off her without causing a stir. This for a pickpocket would be the ultimate test, the pinnacle of her criminal class. But, Angie thought; if she ever had the opportunity to do so, it would have to be worth her while, like a shiny gown, an appealing sky blue gown with half sleeves and scooped collar. And the jewels would be sapphire drop earrings, bracelet and ring, not plain rhinestones. She licked her lips at the enticing thought of such a perfect “coup fera”, than told herself to get back to work, time was money.
**
She slipped her hand along the satin cape being used as a pillow and felt under the girls head until she felt the cold earring she was laying upon. Deftly undoing the screw she pulled it free, watching with delight as it came out from underneath.
**
Angie than, gently lifted, and nimbly stroked back the girl’s ultra-soft hair, exposing her long silvery earring. She pulled the jewel out and laid it out upon the child’s shoulder, where it lay, shimmering vibrantly. Then she reached in with her fingers and began unscrewed its clasp. Pulling it free she added it to her growing collection. She next lifted the hand that had held the warm sable, gently prying open her clenched fingers. The sleeping child never stirred. Angie gently slipped off the glittering ring. She then peeled back a silky sleeve, checking for the bracelet, finding her wrist was bare. The rest of the jewels were hiding securely on the side she was laying upon. Smiling wickedly to herself, an idea popped into Angie’s head.
**
The music was now almost to the halfway point, and Angie thought for a brief second that she should leave . Another quick scan assured her the coast was still clear, and Angie decided to press her luck, eagerly going back to work, putting her idea into motion.
Angie fingers felt along the sleeping child’s waist until she located the brooch. Quickly unfastening the brooch from the chocolate satin sash, she pulled it out. Watching as the diamonds caught fire and burst into vibrant life, unusually vivid for plain rhinestones she thought contemplatively. Angie plopping it in with the growing pile of the sleeping girls purloined baubles. Again reaching in along the warm waist, Angie gradually tugged at the now undone sash. The sleeping girl, unconsciously obliged by turning over on her other side, as the sash was pulled away.
**
Her arm with the ring and bracelet was now exposed. Lifting the arm , and peeling back the puffy sleeve, Angie found and unclasped the bracelet, slipping it away, then allowing it to dangle in triumph before letting it join its purloined mates. Then lifting the child’s hand she pulled at the ring, it was a little tight. Angie licked her fingers, and moistened the girls finger, than began slipping the ring off ever so gently from the along her finger. Almost there, Angie thought, as the ring joined its abducted companions in her pocket.
**
As Angie finished pocketing the last of the girls jewels, her victim whimpers something discernible in her sleep, her small hand feeling to pull up the missing warm sable she had been using as a blanket. Angie quickly looked around, spying a cheap linen coat hanging on a nearby hook, she grasped it and laid it over the stirring girl, stroking her for a precious few seconds. Then rising, calmly Angie snatched a shiny purse from the table, and moved off, unbelieving of her luck. She reclaimed the sable fur, and strolled out the door without looking back.
**
As Angie closed the door she heard the last notes of the song waning from inside. She licked her lip, that was close, but her luck had held. Now all that remained was to visit the Cupid Statue In the garden to reclaim her other prizes. As she reached the statue, Angie realized that she still had the child’s satin sash in her hand.
She smiled as she tied it, blindfolding the cupid statues eyes. Retrieving and pocketing the now stone cold diamond bracelet, and the young Princess in blue’s necklace with its shimmering pendent, she slowly looked around, the cost was clear. Angie coolly made her way to the gate, the bored guard offering to help her with the mink she was carrying. , Angie stopped, and handed it to him. Then turning, allowed him to help her on with it. He puffed out his chest as Angie gave him a sweet smile; she thanked him, then turned and disappeared into the darkness of the night.
**
Angie disappeared from view into the foggy evening, relishing the warmth of the sensuous sable. Happily contemplating the small fortune in jewels it had been in contact with earlier that evening, and also the small fortune she had walked out of the reception with in her possession.
**
The guard watched the spot for some time where the pretty lady in the expensive fur had vanished in the mists. He fantasized for a good few minutes, wondered what had been behind the enchantingly secret smile she had given to him.
Excuse me, sir?, a female voice coming from the garden startles him, he had never heard anyone coming.
He turns, catching an eyeful of a long glamourous, brown satin gown, worn fetchingly by a willowy short haired pretty young thing. Diamonds blazed from around her throat, caught by the gas lights, and from around her white satin gloved wrists as she raised her hands in a pleading fashion.
She continues, pointing to a young girl in a smashing blue satin gown, bending over looking for something in the bushes. My sister lost her necklace and pendent while playing around here earlier, did you or anyone find it? She asked in a rather seductive tone of voice9 not a common, it was her regular voice)
No lady, no one turned in a necklace. Thank you sir, and she turns away, her gown flowing out behind her.
He watches for a minute as she and her sister both move elegantly down the path, continuing their search.
He sighed, and turns away, babysitting rich dames he mutters under his breath, what a dismal way to make a living. Why won’t this affair ever end he asked himself, as he reached for his silver pocket watch to check the time. Damnations he said, not finding it nor its chain and fob, must have dropped it in the alley earlier where I had gone for a nipper from his flask. He sauntered off quickly to the alley located in the direction Angie had disappeared, abandoning his post.
Soon after, a pair of dark figures who had been walking on the opposite side of the street, and had stopped to loiter when they spied the guard talking to some posh broad in a shiny brown dress, saw the guard leaving his post. They quickly stole with sinister intent across the road and entered into the gardens, disappearing into the darkness.
*********************************************************************************
This ended up being Angie’s first big score, She got more for the rhinestone set then she had imagined, the small brooch taken off the brown satin sash had proved to have real diamonds in its center! Also the princess in silky sky blue’s pendent and chain had fetched a nice tidy sum. The jewels lifted from the ladies in Green and Silver also realized quite a handsome profit, as did the sable and purse.
if one includes the real diamond ring slipped off the finger of a silky dressed debutante from the prom show and her rather nice haul of a slim pearl necklace and diamond pin from the Opera, the whole weekend was unimaginably successful.
**
From the profit realized, she had been able to spend a pleasant month away in Monte Carlo, even indulging in the purchase of a rich red wine coloured taffeta gown to wear.
Which she pleasantly found that, when paired with her deftly acquired collection of dripping rhinestone diamond jewelry, she attracted wealthy young males with expensive gold watches and fat wallets like honey bee drones to a bright moss rose.
**
She also enticed a long raven haired, Miss, richly clad in emerald silk, to enter into her snare.
But Angie did not make an entirely clean get away. For the last jewel to be taken was the girl’s brooch , and before Angie could hide it with the rest, the girl spotted its’ glitter in Angie’s hand, and with a gasp had looked down on her dress at the now vacant spot where it had been dangling ever so provocatively for Angie all evening.. Angie smiled at the girl as she had looked up in confusion. The girl had placed a hand to her throat, startled when feeling it bare of her necklace. She looked at Angie in hurt confusion, her eyes wide with fright. Angie placed a finger to the girl’s lips, hushing any fuss she may have been thinking of making over her missing jewelry, and turning her back to the forlorn miss, Angie left, not looking back….
**
But that was a story for another day, so we were promised by Angie, giving us an all too familiar look of devious satisfaction at making us wait.
.************************************************************************************
Editor’s Notes:
Our Thanks to Mr. J. Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide
If you enjoyed our little story, please like and leave a comment.
And if you wish, describe what intrigued you the most about it…
Thank You
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As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility
I've made a new album where i tried to collect a kind of minimalistic street photos, the ones i intuitively perceived as minimal before any analysis. These are not a selection of the best ones but of every fit the topic, i only made an exception for the shots from the metro, too many were fit so i've picked a few of them.
P.S. the shot from the gallery on above - you can find the original photo (without the words) on the last page of the album.
Donna and I assembled a selection of four of her recent Embrodery works to be juried into the annual Metro Montage exhibition at Marietta’s art museum. She’s been creating pieces like these since early this year. Most of them are approximately 9 x 12 inches, with one being two inches longer.
intuitively knitted
asymmetric freeform tunica
with 1 kimono sleeve
material, color & technique combination
as it evolves in progress
wearable in at least 5 different ways
as shown in the stream
additional cape to complete the ensemble
30 Days of Perception - Day 7 - Intuition
Walking in my neighbourhood without a fixed destination, just meandering intuitively where my legs carry me. This single seedpod comes into my line of vision.
This is Intuitive Machines' IM-2 lander that once again toppled over after trying to land on Mons Mutons near the lunar south pole.
The picture had lots of detail hidden in the shadows which I brought out in processing.
The picture was reprojected to a rectilinear image with a precise, photogrammetry derived camera model.
Alt: Fisheye picture from the lunar surface taken by a camera attached to the top of the IM2 lander. The lander has fallen over on it's side and the legs point towards the small half lit earth in the far distance.
The lander partially lies in the shade, which covers most of the foreground. A small hill is visible on the horizon.
Original: flic.kr/p/2qQywoe
Credit: Intuitive Machines
Additional Processing: Simeon Schmauß
Another sunrise at Brimham Rocks, and this time I think I got the light placement better than before.
However, intuitively, I feel I want to see the sun in shot,but when I tried it, I didn't like the result!?
The book of Love
Jutta (later Julian) Schutting - "Liebesroman"
1 of 4
altered books
individually painted
pop-up-book
with machine stitched pages
MultiMedia
MultiColor
intuitively illustrated
longtermProject
color coded landscapes
acrylics & watercolor
hightlighted with
oilpastels & crayons
passionate visions of heaven on earth
divinely inspired
in the darkest months
of the year
fall & winter 2017/2018
1st movement - top
2018 collection
chaos
kamikaze
freeform
intuitive knitting
in action
unorthodox asymmetric
multi-technique fusion
with lots of dropped stitches
lagenlook
urban streetwear
for brave divas
who enjoy to show
who they truly are
DadaKamikazeKnitting
Guerrilla knitting attack
in intuitive
sensitive
highspeed mode
tunic
dress
pseudo-poncho
wrap
multimedia
multitechnique
freeform & pattern crochet/knitting
Navajo 3-ply
& some more nonsense I cant´t remember
multi versatile
like most of my creations
endless wearing options
for fearless ladies with attitude
& urban drag queens
Goodness is reflected in all of creation and in the little glimpses of purity and love found in human hearts ...
Quotes On Having Faith ... Mrs Happy Face
As part of NASA’s CLPS (Commercial Lunar Payload Services) initiative and Artemis campaign, media accreditation is open for Intuitive Machines’ first robotic flight to the Moon’s surface. The robotic deliveries will transport agency science and technology demonstrations to the Moon for the benefit of all. The Intuitive Machines Nova-C lander carrying NASA science and commercial payloads will launch on a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket. Liftoff is targeted for a multi-day launch window, which opens no earlier than mid-February, from Launch Complex 39A at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida.
Among the NASA items on its lander, the Intuitive Machines mission will carry instruments focusing on plume-surface interactions, space weather/lunar surface interactions, radio astronomy, precision landing technologies, and a communication and navigation node for future autonomous navigation technologies. A successful landing will help support the CLPS model for commercial payload deliveries to the lunar surface. As the anchor customer of CLPS, NASA is investing in lower-cost methods of Moon deliveries and aims to be one of many customers.
In this image, the Nova-C lunar lander is seen in the high bay of Intuitive Machines Headquarters in Houston, before it shipped to NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida for integration with a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket for launch, as part of NASA’s CLPS (Commercial Lunar Payload Services) initiative and Artemis campaign.
Credit: Intuitive Machines
#NASAMarshall #NASA #NASA #moon #CLPS
Read more about NASA’s CLPS (Commercial Lunar Payload Services)
X Products always feature sophisticated and elegant design, the finest collection of animations on the grid, intuitive navigation, superior, features and ease of use, and because they are now 100 % mesh construction, remarkably low prim counts and land impact
leblancangels.blogspot.com/2015/05/lady-x-bdsm-manor-livi...
DadaKamikazeKnitting
Guerrilla knitting attack
in intuitive
sensitive
highspeed mode
tunic
dress
pseudo-poncho
wrap
multimedia
multitechnique
freeform & pattern crochet/knitting
Navajo 3-ply
& some more nonsense I cant´t remember
multi versatile
like most of my creations
endless wearing options
for fearless ladies with attitude
& urban drag queens
Intuitively obvious to even the most casual observer.
My apologies for referring to myself in the third person
intuitively knitted
asymmetric freeform tunica
with 1 kimono sleeve
material, color & technique combination
as evolving in progress,
wearable in a couple of different ways,
but only 2 of them make sense
Some of you may remember this from the scene in A View to a Kill where Max Zorin tells James Bond "Intuitive improvisation is the secret of genius" before tossing him in an elevator and setting the place ablaze. Christopher Walkin made being evil look so easy. Good times.
If they remade this movie today, Max Zorin wouldn't need to destroy Silicon Valley anymore. Corporate greed and China have done a good job of that already...
explored 9/18/2010
intuitively knitted
asymmetric freeform tunica
with 1 kimono sleeve
material, color & technique combination
as it evolves in progress
wearable in at least 5 different ways
as shown in the stream
additional cape to complete the ensemble
Please don't use my images on websites, blogs or other media without my permission.
© All rights reserved.
Two Intuitive Machines employees ready navigation pod sensors for the company's Nova-C lunar lander in preparation for testing at NASA's Kennedy Space Center in Florida on Nov. 18, 2022. The test involved flying the sensors over a simulated lunar surface at the Launch and Landing Facility on a private helicopter. Intuitive Machines is scheduled to launch two missions to the Moon in 2023 - one of which will carry NASA's Mass Spectrometer observing lunar operations (MSolo) instrument that will help analyze the chemical makeup of landing sites on the Moon, as well as study water on the lunar surface. Through NASA's Commercial Lunar Payload Services initiative, the agency selected Intuitive Machines to deliver science and technology demonstration payloads to the Moon, contributing to NASA's goal of establishing a sustainable human presence on the lunar surface. Photo credit: NASA/Isaac Watson
Solid version of an
intuitively processed
multimedia freeform tunic
wearable either way
not only while enjoying a tropical picnic
but also very delightful
on a rainy day in the Alps
Seen here is Intuitive Machines’ navigation pod sensors for the company’s Nova-C lunar lander ahead of testing done at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida on Nov. 18, 2022. The test involved flying the sensors over a simulated lunar surface at the Launch and Landing Facility on a private helicopter. Intuitive Machines is scheduled to launch two missions to the Moon in 2023 – one of which will carry NASA’s Mass Spectrometer observing lunar operations (MSolo) instrument that will help analyze the chemical makeup of landing sites on the Moon, as well as study water on the lunar surface. Through NASA’s Commercial Lunar Payload Services initiative, the agency selected Intuitive Machines to deliver science and technology demonstration payloads to the Moon, contributing to NASA’s goal of establishing a sustainable human presence on the lunar surface. Photo credit: NASA/Isaac Watson
This is from the first set of professional Alphie photos. I didn't take this one.
KOM League Flash Report
For Week
of
February 1-6, 2015
After sending each Flash Report I look at the screen and ask myself if that will be the last one.
What is intuitively obvious, even to the casual observer, on first glance, these reports are “without form and void.” Thanks to the Book of Genesis for those words.
There is never any impulse to attempt to fabricate a story for I’m well aware of my limitations in the writing sphere. I was reminded of that by one reader who gave me a passing score for my efforts but congratulated me on the timing of and the inclusion of a recent Bill Clark article on the Valomilk. He deemed Clark to be the best writer of material in the last report, to which I wholeheartedly agreed.
Stay with me for a bit for I’m going to spend a little time on the aforementioned Mr. Clark. His Flash Report is sent at the same time as the rest of those on the mailing list. However, he neither turns a computer on or off and is reliant on a family member to find the report and then print it for him.
Clark keeps a busy schedule and goes more places and does more things, in a week, than I’ve done in the past ten years. When Monday rolls around I assume that anyone to whom the Flash Report was sent has read it or deleted it from the computer by that time. Late on this past Monday afternoon Clark’s wife, Barbara, called to let me know he thought he left a long message on my telephone answering machine earlier in the day. I was a bit puzzled until Barbara explained that she had received a call from a gentleman stating he had received a long message from her husband that didn’t make a lot of sense to him and obviously he wasn’t interested in the things about which Clark and I talk about on the telephone.
So, as I write this Clark doesn’t know that he hit “442” instead of “445” when attempting to call me. He got the right number, but it belonged to someone else. I now know, after speaking with Barbara. that he is going to write a story regarding a game he umpired at Clinton, Mo. when Ernie Banks played for the Kansas City Monarchs. Although I don’t know the details I’d guess it was the same summer—1952-- Banks and the Monarchs showed up in Carthage to take on the Indianapolis Clowns.
Since there is a real fan of Bill Clark who also reads these Flash Reports this is a heads up that he will have another article on baseball in his daily column. For all you Clark fans his work can be accessed at Columbiatribune.com That is a site that limits the number of times each month you can visit it so use your access judiciously.
_______________________________________________________________________
Conclusion to a previous Flash Report story
Speeding and running stop sign inspected. That was a headline appearing on page 12 of the Saturday September 12, 1953 Edition of the Omaha Evening Journal.
In a couple of recent issues, of this publication, a name arose who had no affiliation with the KOM league. He was a member of the Osage Tribe who pitched briefly for Hutchinson, Kansas, in 1949, before being replaced on the roster by Jack McCalman who had started that season with the Carthage, MO Cubs.
When information is located about former players who weren’t affiliated with the KOM league, and for whom I can verify their passing, I share that with Jack Morris who keeps tabs on former players who have crossed o’er the Jordan River.
When first mentioning the late Hutchinson pitcher I surmised that although I had found out a great deal regarding his early life that I might never learn of his date and place of birth and his fate. Shortly, I learned all of the above with the exception I didn’t know what led to his death at a very young age. Well, the Omaha newspaper of 1953 had this account of a car accident from a Saturday afternoon 62 years ago. “A 25 year old man was injured severely early Saturday when his car sideswiped another on East Locust Street, continued three hundred feet and plowed into a tree. The impact tore a shoe from the foot of the driver Herbert Hay (sp) Pitts, resident of the downtown YMCA. He was reported in fair condition Saturday at County Hospital. He suffered multiple cuts of the head, left arm and leg and both hands and a concussion. He was unconscious several hours.”
For the newspaper reference cited I have Jack Morris, baseball necrologist, to thank. The rest of what I knew about Pitts was basically contained in Ancestry.com files, some old Baseball Guides and the Hutchison News. Pitts had played professionally in 1948 with Odessa and Lubbock in the West Texas-New Mexico league and after being released by Hutchinson, in 1949, due to a sore right arm, (citation from Hutchinson News) he hooked on with Alexandria and Lafayette in the Evangeline league in 1950. He was an effective pitcher when he was able to perform. He had a winning record in his three seasons in pro ball.
On October 18, 1950 he entered the United States Army and received his discharge on November 1, 1952. In an ironic twist he passed away one year and one day later on November 2, 1953, most likely from his injuries suffered in the September car accident.
On December 22, 1953 an application was filed with the U. S. Headstone Agency for Military Veterans for their consideration. That information is part of the public record. . search.ancestry.com/cgi-bin/sse.dll?db=QGHeadstoneApps&am... request was for a flat bronze marker. Sometime between the application date and January 18, 1954 it had been reviewed and marked up by someone using a red pencil. On the request was the word “undesirable” which was underlined twice.
With that information I went back to his Find A Grave site: msbdy=1928&msbpn__ftp=oklahoma&cpxt=0&catBucket=rstp&uidh=tk3&cp=0&pcat=ROOT_CATEGORY&h=38864566&db=FindAGraveUS&indiv=1&ml_rpos=2
The tombstone that now marks the spot of Herbert Pitts’ final resting place doesn’t contain a flat bronze marker as can been seen if you pulled up the previous URL. For those who didn’t or can’t, it is a very nice marble headstone. For anyone familiar with gray marble they will quickly recognize it as being Carthage Marble. In fact, one reader, of this report played for the Carthage Cubs in 1951 and worked the winter of 1951-52 at Carthage Marble and will verify the statement that the tombstone for the late Mr. Pitts is from the place he played ball and worked during one of the greatest years of his young life. Just because he met a pretty young lady in 1951 had NOTHING to do with him staying around Carthage for the off season, right WB? WB is the same guy who took Hank Aaron to the hospital during the 1952 Northern League All-Star game. That was a story in last week’s report. How many of you recall that story? Shucks, how many of you even recall last week?”
________________________________________________________________________
Another puzzler almost solved.
This story, like the previous one, has a common thread…an automobile accident.
Since the start of all the effort to locate a former member of an Iola ball club, in the early 1950’s, I’ve looked, scratched through all manner of records and looked again and again for a trace of him. I always thought he was born in Salina and later lived in a small town across the Smokey Hill River to the Southeast of the place he entered this world. However, in searching every document I could find I never uncovered what happened to him after he left the KOM league. In recent days I unraveled his past and now understand why I had a tough time tracing his ancestry.
For this story I’ll just call the guy Marvin. In my research I found through some family archives that, due no fault of his own, was born out of wedlock in 1932 to Raymond and Anna, both of whom had different last names as you might expect. Raymond was 25 at the time and Anna was 17. So, Marvin was adopted, given the last name of the adopted parents and grew up on a farm in Central Kansas. It appears that his mother, Anna, stayed in Salina but Raymond took off and went to Torrington, Wyoming where he married a girl by the name of Sarah, a year later. I don’t know what became of Sarah but Raymond lived another 60 years before his death in Parker, Colorado in 1994. Looking at stories like that I wonder if Raymond ever knew his son got a chance to play professional baseball. Also things like that raise the question as to whether Marvin ever saw or knew of his father.
The “mystery man” in this story was scouted by a former minor leaguer from Lecompton, Kansas by the name of Russell Sehon. Since Marvin came out of the Salina area and that town was a Philadelphia Phillies farm club at the time it is most likely Sehon signed him for the Phils and had him assigned to a Class D independent club, Iola. The young infielder showed up at Iola on May 28, of an unspecified year, and had six runs batted in, in one game, shortly after his arrival. Since he played at Iola during the years I was watching baseball I’m sure I saw him. Now, I wish I could find him but probably never will. One thing about the young man’s four score games with Iola was, he had a tough time hitting his weight and that spelled the end of his baseball aspirations.
Had Marvin taken the last name of his birth mother he would have had the same name as a great Brooklyn Dodger pitcher of that era. Had he taken the name of his “long gone” father, it would have been the only name of its kind in the history of organized baseball. As it turned out Marvin had the adopted last name of scores of men who played professional baseball.
Whether Marvin is alive is unknown but he had three half- sisters of which two are living and doing so in Salina, Kansas. I could make contact with the survivors to find out about Marvin but I’d be a little fearful of doing that. Notice I prefaced that with “a little.”
Follow-up to the story
While attempting to locate additional information regarding Marvin I came upon a Salina, Kansas Journal article written a dozen or so years after he left the KOM League. The headline was “Salinian Found Unconscious in His Car.” At the start I didn’t know if this was the same guy who played in the KOM league or not. I didn’t know the answer until I read down to the last paragraph. So, follow along and see what I found. (Some of verbiage in this article was a little hard to grasp but it is a direct quote.)
“Thirty-year old Marvin K. Anonymous, Salina RFD, was found unconscious, a 1.5 inch gash across the center of his forehead, on the floorboards of a car east of Salina Saturday night.
In Ditch
The 1958 model car was in a ditch on the south side of Marymount Road approximately 2.5 miles east of the city. The Sheriff’s Patrol said the car had a flat front tire but no other apparent damage.
Cause not known
The Sheriff’s Patrol said cause of the accident was not determined by late Saturday night.”
At this point I was still curious as to whether I had found a story on a “missing” KOM leaguer, or not. The article concluded. “It is believed Anonymous was employed at a Salina golf course. He is a former professional baseball and former star athlete at Anonymous (not Salina) High School.”
It appears the “missing” KOM leaguer stayed in the area in which he was born. I located three references to him in the Salina Journal and all of them were from April through June of that year in the early 1960’s. In all cases the references were due to hospitalizations.
Run the clock forward 30 years and there is a reference, in an obituary, that he was the brother to a deceased female. That caused me some concern for in the 1940 Census he was the only child mentioned in the family. However, in looking at that Census document I found that he had been adopted by a couple who were 42 years of age. It is possible that they had raised some children who had left the home by that time which made sense that they, at an advanced age of parenting a baby, did indeed adopt Marvin. The only thing that gives me pause that Anonymous was still in the Salina area in the early 1990’s is a plea in the April 28, 1976 edition of the Salina Journal. The plea was placed there by a lady trying to locate former graduates of the high school where Anonymous had attended and from where he had graduated nearly a quarter century earlier.
With all the research done on this matter I have reason to believe Marvin is still living and if I could go to a certain town in North Central Kansas, not Salina, I think I could speak with him and complete this tale. If I ever saw him I think I’d recognize him since I do have a photo of him taken almost 65 years ago. I’m sure he hasn’t changed…much.
Social commentary:
Keeping the name and most ways of identifying Marvin Anonymous from being determined was on purpose. I’m sure Marvin probably found out, some time in his life, the circumstances under which he entered this world. However, he might not have shared that with many people and it isn’t my role in life to spread that bit of information. When he was born the times were different. The unmarried mother many times left town on some “made up” reason and left the newborn in the custody of an agency who adopted it out to some family whether it was good or bad for the child. If the birth circumstance of the child was learned they often were called by a seven letter word that was far from flattering.
As I was finishing this story I heard a defensive back for one of the Super Bowl teams state that he didn’t know if he would play in the game on Sunday if his girl friend was giving birth to their child. The moral climate in this country has changed from Marvin’s day and even from the time I was a young and even older person. Now, anything goes and I’m not sure it is for the best. It used to be that Hollywood was known for its loose morals, and was the poster child for a way of life that residents in my part of the world never discussed or admitted in public knowing about. . The old joke was two youngsters who were sons of Hollywood starts were arguing. One youngster and says ‘My daddy can whip your daddy.’ To which the other youngster replied ‘My daddy is your daddy’.”
________________________________________________________________________
Many ballplayers were never scouted but sought out teams in various ways.
There are a variety of reasons the Flash Reports are read. How can I list all the ways? The answer is “I can’t and won’t even make an attempt.” However, when a former big leaguer passes away, who played in the KOM league, and there isn’t any record of who inked him to his first contract, I’ll get an inquiry. The latest case in point came when Charlie Locke passed away in early January.
It was time for me to reach out to the “far-flung” network of guys with great memories. Since Bill Ashcraft and Charlie Locke were from the same part of the country and signed the same year with the St. Louis Browns, I figured he could shed some light on the scout signing Locke. Here are a couple of responses provided some good grist for this edition.
•
John: I don't recall the name of the Scout who actually signed me. You may recall that in the 40s and early 50s some of the major league teams held "training camps where at a cost one could attend and play against his peers under the watchful eyes of various scouts. In 1950 I was invited to one of those camps which the Browns held in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. As I recall, the Browns had a training facility at an old "retired" US Military base there at Pine Bluff and that several baseball diamonds had been hewn out. We were housed in one of the old barracks and were given military type cots for sleeping on. I felt right at home. The Camp wasn't free by any means but the Browns indicated that the "Top Prospects" camp would have their tuition, bus fare, etc., refunded. I was lucky-my control was on and somehow I was selected Numero Uno and got my refund. I remember that Henry Peters, a Browns bigwig, was at the graduation ceremonies and I believe that he was the party who gave me my contract. Since I was still a "minor" they had to get my Dad's permission for me to sign although I had just been recently discharged from the Marine Corps (my first stint and I was called back in when the Korean War broke out which essentially did away with any baseball aspirations that I might have had). I met Peters again in 1952 when Bill Veeck, who had bought the team, directed that I come up and work out with the Big Boys immediately upon my second Marine discharge later that year. It was nice of Veeck but Hornsby, the Manager, readily saw that my arm was useless. Veeck was a good guy but Hornsby was an ass.
A bit later:
John: I tried to send you a reply but fouled up something-computerese is not my expertise. I guess that the Browns' experiment down in Pine Bluff could have been considered a try-out camp but as I recall most of try-out camps, as such, put on in the late 40s-early 50s were usually of the 1/2 or 1 day variety. I knew some of the local guys around Advance-Bloomfield who attended one of them and they indicated that they didn't get much of a chance to show their wares. My brother and a couple of his HS team mates around 1955-1956 went to one of the Cardinals camps in St. Louis and one of his friends could hit a ball as far as anybody I ever saw, but he said that he only got one at bat, and that was it. He could have easily played minor league ball and would probably have hit several home runs.
The Browns' camp at Pine Bluff was of a week or ten days duration and we had to pay to attend it. They brought several scouts in to watch the goings on The one day camps my brother's friends attended didn't cost them anything except for their road fare up to St. Louis and they had to bring their glove and shoes, perhaps a local uniform of some kind-but I don't recall if this was the case. The guys who attended our camp in Pine Bluff were from several locations around the country, people from Arkansas, Illinois, etc., the guy I mentioned who made it to the Big Leagues for a short period, Chuck Oertel, was from Pontiac, Michigan, and another guy who was in the camp was named Bill Zwirko from somewhere up in New Jersey-he also played for Enos at Baxley but I believe that he hung it up after a year or so.
The only guy at that camp that got a cup of coffee in the Big Leagues was Charles Oertel but it wasn't with the Browns, the White Sox I believe. He wasn't up in the bigs very long. It was funny but I was playing with the Camp Pendleton Marine team in early 1952 after my arm was shot and who would appear but Chuck Oertel, having also been called back in at the tail end of the Korean War. He and I had played with Baxley in the Georgia State League under the late Bill Enos.
Ed reply to all of the above:
Zwirko played one year at Hazlehurst-Baxley and hit .187. That may be the reason he quit.
Ed comment:
A few things in my years of research are universally the same. No matter with whom I spoke, who played for Rogers Hornsby, to a person they couldn’t tolerate him. But, there has to be an exception somewhere and as soon as I hear about it I’ll surely print the news. I even shared that sentiment a few months ago with a family member of the Hornsby’s who has a huge genealogy site. I’ve heard from a number of people who played for the late Bill Enos prior to his going into scouting. In his case, I never heard a disparaging word. As a visiting team batboy the year Enos was in the KOM league he was right at the top of my favorite managers list.
________________________________________________________________________
Now for the dessert.
In the last issue the Valomilk (VM) article by Bill Clark was saved for this part of the Flash Report. So, with a “sweet deal” going I’ll close with another Valomilk story.
John G Hall, you are now known as the “Guru of Valomilk”. After your story last week in the FR regarding Mr. Earl Sifers of Iola baseball and candy fame, you once again quirked my interest so I have been searching since for the old and familiar VM. And, if I had just followed your very explicit instructions I would not have wasted all my time, energy and $. I went first to Walgreen’s, as they have a huge candy department. No VMs. Went to Wally World. No VM. Went to Quik Trip. No VM. So, I finally decided perhaps should follow your guidance. Just went to my friendly Westlake ACE Hardware near my house. I found VM!!! Right at the checkout as you said. Told the clerk at checkout there was a special story behind my purchase so she had to hear it and of course I gave her a short rendition, including information on the KOM League. She, being an “older adult,” definitely remembered VM from the days far past. Time and the economy have taken their toll of course. It is now a 2-pack and sells for $1.99!!! My wife asked what it was “back in our days” and I cannot remember so thought perhaps you might? Sure it was only a single pack? And price?
The other famous one I remember from our swimming pool days with Keith and Norma is the Cherry Mash, manufactured then and now in St Joseph, Mo. And it is also on the candy checkout at ACE!!! My favorite though always was and still is a FROZEN Snicker bar!!!
But, thanks for the memories. And yes indeed, the address on the wrapper says 5112 Merriam Lane, Merriam, Kansas. If I had Paul Lindblad’s left arm I could hit that place with a rock from my home(well, almost). But since it is my lefty arm, I will drive there and drop the rock in their driveway. By the way the new name of company is Russell Sifers. I wonder if that is perhaps a son or even grandson?
Thanks for the memories John. Oh, by the way. I will not bother to look at the wrapper for the dietary info printed thereon. Just TYPING the word VALOMILK probably added 2 lbs to my weight---Ha!!”
Casey—Shawnee Mission, KS
One more thing before closing. I am glad it is a 2-pack. That means my bride of 46 years will have to share equally, which might prevent any “comments” re the nutrition value. That will be right after or before she has her Blue Bell Ice Cream of course!!!! Good thing she does not read these ramblings of mine!!
Ed reply:
Well, see if I can answer all your questions. The Valomilk cost one nickel and most of the nickels I received when selling them were Buffaloes.
The Cherry Mash was indeed made in St. Joseph, MO by the Chase Candy Company. However, it was at the top of the price list for candy. It cost one thin Roosevelt.
The Snicker and Milky Ways also sold for a nickel. But, when the corner grocery stores starting selling them frozen they upped the price to match the Cherry Mash. Snickers and Milky Way's were made by the Mars Candy Co. and they made a Mars Bar that had two almonds in each bar and that also brought a high price of ten cents. I thought all that candy was great until I tasted a Cadbury Caramello and then I kicked all those other confections to the side.
Earl Sifers was an uncle of Russell. Russell never saw Earl in his life as I recall him telling me at one of my purchasing forays prior to a KOM league reunion.. I told him things about the Iola operation he never knew. I also told him it was the preferred candy item of all KOM leaguers but he never gave me a price break on the hundreds of those things I purchased for a “few” reunions. I wearied of driving from Columbia, MO to Merriam, KS prior to each reunion so I finally talked Jim Jay into getting the Valomilks for me. He then became the most popular guy at the reunion. It seems to me that the double pack of Valomilks were 89 cents the last time I purchased them for a reunion. Maybe I got them cheaper since Sifers didn’t have to charge the freight costs.
_______________________________________________________________________
Some things just didn’t pan out
What KOM clubs anticipated at the start of spring training, in terms of roster composition, seldom turned out that way once the season started. This article from early spring of 1948 shows just how initial plans go awry. Even the manager who started out in the spring at Miami, Okla., Hank Gornicki had a change of heart about managing that club.
Miami News Record--THURSDAY, APRIL 8, 1948 PITCHERS WORK FOR POSITIONS ON LOCAL CLUB --14 Hurlers Among New Crop Of Owl Candidates; .29 new candidates battling for 21 positions on the Miami Owl roster, 14 are pitchers and eight are infielders. The others, all of whom reported for spring drill late Monday, include five outfielders and two backstops. Because College field hasn't been conditioned for workouts, the plan for junior Owl prospects to toil on the campus has been abandoned. Instead, there will be two squads in action daily at the Fairgrounds park, the Topeka Owls working during the afternoon. following morning practice by the local athletes, who will report at 10 a. m. Manager Windy Johnson of the Topekans and pilot Hank Gornicki of the Miami outfit will get a line on their hurling talent Saturday night and Sunday in the two nine-inning games slated at the Fairgrounds. The Saturday game will begin at 8, the Sunday afternoon clash at 2:30 o'clock. Pitching and batting practices will dominate the training program until the week-end tilts.
Topeka breaks camp April 16 for a series of exhibitions and the local aggregation, while remaining here for most of its conditioning, will travel occasionally for competition. Miami will open its season May 5. The new arrivals: Pitchers— Robert Scheer, Old Bridge, N. J.; Edward Brennan, New Haven, Conn.; Dennis Torris, Peabody, Mass.; Robert Vogel, South River, New Jersey; Lawrence Pugliese, Greenwich, Conn.; Francis Wilson, Lynn, Mass.; John Doyle, Salem, Mass.; Glen Oxandale, Wetmore, Kas.; Dean Christman, Jamestown, Kas.; Alex Grieves, Burlingame, Kas.; Robert Moore, Ottawa, Kas.; Fred Rykert, Lenexa, Kas.; and Rudy Newman, South Hambar, Mass. Infielders—Dennis Heins, New Haven, Conn.; Anthony Mormino, St. Louis, Mo.; Vernon Stout, St. Louis, Mo;. George Gibson, Brooklyn, N. Y.; Manric Bauer, Pawnee Rock, Kas.; Everett Moore, Morrowville, Kas.; James Moore, Ottawa, Kas.; and Robert Newcomer, Lenexa, Kas. Outfielders—Russell Burkemper, St. Louis, Mo.; Benjamin DiPietro, New York, N. Y.; Harold Lee, Lenoir City, Tenn.; Bart Mantia, St. Louis, Mo.; and Thomas Quinnlan, Perry, Kas. Catchers—Byron Perrigo, Holton, Kas.; and Willard Grunow, Egg Harbor City, N. Y. (Ed note: That was actually Egg Harbor City, New Jersey. A member of the 1948 Carthage Cardinals was from that same town. His name was Howard Leonard Obergfell who passed away in Willingboro, NJ at age 39, the year was 1966.)
Ed note:
In the research conducted on that 1948 team I only found the following names, from that early spring roster who played in at least one game for Miami: Alex Grieves, George Gibson, Robert Vogel, Edward Brennan and Rudy Neumann. Robert and James Moore from Ottawa, KS were brothers. Robert had made the Chanute roster in 1947 but was not offered a contract in 1948 after the New York Giants took over. Neither he or James made the Miami club in 1948.
Rudy Neumann was listed as ”Newman” from South Hambar, Mass. But he was actually from Hoboken, NJ and died in New Brunswick, NJ some 60 years after appearing at Miami. I was never able to find a South Hambar anywhere. That had to be a newspaper misspelling.
If someone wanted a “fun” project they could take those names of guys who didn’t make the Miami club in 1948 and see if they played elsewhere before their youth had fled. I would suspect there are a number of misspellings of names on that list as I just cited with Rudy Neumann. Robert Scheer spent the 1948 season at Topeka.
Later
For the fun of it I ran Ancestry.com checks on nearly everyone who didn’t make it on to the Miami roster. I was surprised to have been able to track everyone of those listed and with the exception of two names the Miami paper had them spelled correctly. Most of the fellows trying out for Miami in 1948 were WWII veterans and one of them, Benjamin L. “Bennie” DiPietra was a highly decorated soldier in the war and was “Missing in Action” for a period of three months from late 1944 until early 1945. He passed away in 1963 and is buried in Bristol, Pennsylvania.
Others from the list who reported to Miami in 1948 went into the Korean War such as Everett Moore of Morrowville, Kansas. He spent four years in the service and lived until August 29, 2009 when he passed away in Concordia, Kansas.
There was a letter left out of Fred Rykert’s name. He is Fred Charles Ryckert who was listed as being from Lenexa, Kansas. He was born outside Lenexa in Johnson County in 1922 and at age 93 resides in Ft. Collins, Colorado.
If for any reason anyone would want any information on the members of the early Miami spring roster of 1948 I now have a pretty good profile on everyone of them. Can you imagine the surprise that some family members of all those guys would have if they knew their loved one once had a shot at playing professional baseball?
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Warning: Old KOM League correspondence is a potential health hazard.
Late last year the nearly two-decade accumulation of correspondence was wheeled out my back door, into a van and across I-70 to the Kansas State Historical Society in Topeka. I have mentioned it a couple of times in the past but never dwelt on it. In recent days I received an update on the archival process.
This is the status of the project:
“John: Thought I would give you an update on the processing of the Hall-KOM collection.
Our volunteers and staff have made quite a dent in the collection. There are four cubic foot boxes of the correspondence left to go through. Initially there were 15 boxes. Everyone is having a good time reading through the stories and jokes. Some of the jokes are not really suited for printing.
We are finding the occasional photo left in the correspondence. I have one photo on my desk of Donald Buss taken at Pittsburg, Kansas in 1948. Another one is of Carl Pevehouse in his Oklahoma A&M uniform in the late 1940s. Would you want one or both of these photos back for your files?
I do have to report that we are having some problem with the correspondence from 1994-95. The mold growth has been difficult to get under control. Mold is the number one danger in the archives game. You would think it would be falling boxes, or bad backs from lifting too many heavy cubic foot boxes. Nope, it is mold induced respiratory infections. I warn every intern I teach to be very careful around the stuff. I am still trying to figure out how I can work the early correspondence without getting an infection.
Hope this finds you and your family in good spirits and health. Talk to you again soon.
Sincerely, Darrell
Ed reply:
Sorry about the mold. I knew it was in some of those boxes but I was encouraged to let you guys decide what to throw away. Throw it away before it makes you sick. I would like the photos of Pevehouse and Don Bruss. Mold was one of the reasons my wife said I had to pitch the files. Sorry about the bad jokes some of the guys told. One more thing if you decide there isn't any use for those questionnaires I sent to those guys, let me know.
A bit later
It's a great idea to throw out the bad jokes (and mold infested letters) and libelous statements made by any of those guys. I sometimes wonder if I should have made that stuff available for public consumption. Save me from being sued by blacking out all that borderline stuff.
Ed comment:
About the only material in that correspondence, needing to be deleted, was someone trying to relate an off color joke. I have a pretty good memory, or did until recently, and I don’t remember a single joke any sent. So, I guess they were only funny to the persons sending them. Taxing my memory I do recall one guy sending a joke and I didn’t print it in the newsletter and that was the last time he ever communicated with me. I do recall him sending the joke but I didn’t deem it suitable for distribution.
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In time, everyone makes it into a Flash Report.
Until the discussion of Ray Rippelmeyer. and the death of his wife, Glenda, in the previous edition of the Flash Report, his name was never mentioned in this publication.
Then the information was shared with the Eichhorst family who are friends of Rippelmeyer. The Eichhorsts were going to share all the voluminous information that was shared by one of the readers regarding Ray’s career. In that material was a reference to Rippelmeyer hitting his only big league homer off Boston’s Billy Monbouquette. Shortly thereafter this note arrived Barry McMahon, the person who shared so much information about Rippelmeyer. “Ray Rippelmeyer hit his homerun off Bill Monbouquette and I just noticed Bill passed away on Sunday the 25th.” www.google.com/search?rls=aso&client=gmail&q=Bill...
With that news I sent the information about Monbouquette’s death to the Eichhorsts who are sharing the information with the Rippelmeyer family. Here is the response from Mrs. Eichhorst. “The day after Glenda's funeral. Will include this with all the information you have sent. Thanks again!”
This is a note received in regard to the Rippelmeyer family. “John, please pass our condolences on to Ray Rippelmeyer (through Barb) from us. I don't think that I ever met Ray's wife, Glenda. She was younger. What a beautiful lady! I remember Ray and we followed his career through the years. He was well known on SEMO's Campus because of his athletic prowess! My brother (also a SEMO Alum) lost his wife 2 years ago because of Alzheimer's! Praying for a cure in the near future. Blessings and sympathy to all. Bill & Shirley Virdon—Springfield, MO
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That should do it for another week or so. As is stated in many of these reports it isn’t mandatory that they be sent your way. I like doing it but if you don’t want to receive them let me know and then you can say, like many others have, “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”
Adding to the record book
In looking at some baseball websites I noticed that Charles Richard Kohs was listed as being born in 1931 when he hurled for the Miami, OK Eagles at the start of the 1950 baseball season. I knew that was inaccurate for I spoke with him few years ago and he told me he was born April 14, 1925 in Lincoln, Park, Michigan. He had pitched for Muskogee, Oklahoma during the 1949 season.
Kohs got a shot with Pug Griffin’s Miami club in 1950 and the following explains why he returned to Michigan as a tool and die maker in the automobile industry.
May 5, 1950 Charles Kohs, tall left hander, started for Miami and was charged with the loss as all seven runs came across the plate during the 3 1/3 innings he worked. Kohs, although touched for only three hits, was troubled by wildness, giving up six free passes, which had him in hot water most of the night. George Edward Beaver relieved Kohs in the fourth inning after two runs had come across the plate and pitched shutout ball the rest of the way
May 12, 1950. Last night. at lola, the Eagles combined their six base knocks with smart base running and cashed in on the Indian miscues to chalk up their sixth victory. Charles Kohs.- erratic left-hander, started; on the hill for the Eagles .but was unable to control his wildness and was forced to retire in the third inning. Kohs walked eight men but hadn't given up a safe base blow. In the third, an error by the catcher, Jack Williams, and two bases on balls, loaded the hassocks. Then Kohs walked (Otis) Bomar, bringing in an Indian run and George Don Garrison was brought in from the bullpen. (Ed note: The mistake in that last sentence is that wasn’t Garrison’s middle name.)
May 16, 1950. Charles Kohs started on the hill for Miami and was sent down to his second defeat. Kohs went 7 2/3 innings and had all of the (Independence) Yank runs charged against him. He was touched for only seven hits but walked 13 men and let loose four wild pitches.
Well, that was Kohs career in the KOM league, in a nutshell. If you want to know more you can find him in Charlevoix, Michigan where in two months he will celebrate his 90th birthday.
What was said about Kohs forms the basis of the “Ninety and Over” society. The rest of this section lists those former KOM leaguers who have or will reach their 90th birthdays in 2015. And, since I’ve I went that far those over 90, and their current ages are also listed. If you care to know the team(s) for whom these men played and the years, go to this seldom used site. I’ve spent countless hours keeping this thing updated. komleaguebaseball.blogspot.com/2008/01/names.html
Those who are/will be 90 in 2015.
John Bulkley—January 5
Ralph Nassen “Whitey” Vold—January 5
John Wanda “Jack” Blaylock---February 11
Dean Rothrock---February 25
Ray Birch—March 29
Frank Borghi---April 9
Robert Kapinus---April 10
Francis Urban—April 11
Charles Kohs---April 14
Steve Kovach---May 22
Pete Maropis---September 17
Robert Ehrlich---September 19
Frank “Bobo the Clown” Nickerson—September 26
Louis Salreno---October 2
Christopher Haughey—October 3.
Those who are/will be 91 in 2015
Jasper Bono—March 15
Keith Willoughby---March 18
Thomas “Snuffy” Smith---March 19
Emery C. Wilson Jr.---May 30
Milton David Ward Jr.---July 10
John Piccone---July 16
Gerald Otto Beaman---August 7
Donald Spellum (umpire)---September 18.
James McCoy Abbott Jr.---November 4
Gerald D. Cross---December 15
Those who are/will be 92 in 2015
Reinhard William “Riney” Hay—July 6
Albert Robert Stadvec---August 8
Elden Edgar McHugh--September 20
David Cox---October 27
Casimir R. Stackowiak---December 5
Those who are/will be 93 in 2015
Joseph W. Turek---May 6
James Duncan (umpire)---August 18
Robert E. Field---August 27
Willis Frank Carruth—September 30
Those who are/will be 94 in 2015
Irvin W. Hayden (umpire)---May 13
Those who are/will be 95 in 2015
Not a single solitary soul.
Those who are/will be 96 in 2015
Shannon Willis Deniston---February 28
William Vernon Snow---September 11
Erby Rue Carroll---November 30.
So, I come to the end of yet another tedious report. But, in case you are ever on a game show and asked who the oldest and youngest former living KOM league players are the answer is: Joseph A. Tessier from Putnam, Connecticut was born June 13, 1934 and played for the Iola Indians in 1951, albeit a very short time. He now lives in Ft. Myers, Florida. The oldest is obvious from the above list. Deniston is still celebrating birthdays in Lakeside, California and has vowed to do so until he reaches the century mark.