View allAll Photos Tagged Question
- Sir Philip Sidney
While you sip your hot cup of tea… some questions for you to scratch your head:
• Is Goofy a dog? And if so then why doesn’t he live in a doghouse ...?
• Why is Goofy a dog and can talk but Pluto is a dog and he can't talk?
The famous theory I have heard is that Goofy and Pluto are in fact brothers (in arms... oh, not the Mark Knofler kinds!). Goofy sold Pluto as a slave in exchange for the power of human speech. And evidently he was robbed too by Mickey, given the unsatisfactory results of being extremely goofy. Now Goofy lives as Mickey's friend not knowing what he had done to him because Mickey had Alzheimers and screwed up his memory. The problem is Pluto knows the real story but is unable to talk and tell Goofy what had happened.
So what will happen? Will Goofy remember and save his brother or will Pluto live in slavery and enjoy the silence?
What do you think? Hope you enjoyed your tea : )
Have a great week ahead!
It has been a continuing pleasure to be able to reach out with a telephoto lens to capture wildlife up close. Many of the subjects I have been able to photograph have allowed me to see details that the naked eye cannot see.
It also brings up some questions at times. For example, I wondered how long a bill a pelican has when it is in the egg right before it hatches, and what the composition of the bill is.
One informative site says: "When a chick hatches, its bill is short and stubby, with closed eyes and bare, pink skin. Over the next few days, the chick's eyes open, down feathers begin to grow, and its bill starts to lengthen considerably."
Eventually, the beak of an adult pelican can grow to nearly 20 inches.
I have never touched a pelican's beak, but I have read that the beak consists of a bony structure covered in a hard, keratin sheath on the outside, similar to human fingernails and hair.
The most distinctive part of the pelican, the pouch, is made of elastic, featherless skin that functions like a fishing net to scoop up fish.
(Photographed near Cambridge, MN)
I have questions. I mean, if it’s supposed to be hidden, why do you label it with a big yellow sign? Why not erect the one that says “Frap Off. You’re Not Invited”?
Or is Batman going to be pissed at the NTSB?
Many of America's highway signs are made by inmates. Is this a practical joke facilitated by a petty larcenist? Whatever the answer, thanks for nuttin'..
Brincadeiras de Liz com uma lente Sigma 2.8 e uma XTI na mão...
Eles são péssimos jogadores porque são bons fotógrafos... ou são bons fotógrafos porque são péssimos jogadores?!
Brincadeira de fotógrafos.
Play Liz with a lens of 2.8 and a Sigma XTI in hand ...
They are bad players because they are good photographers ... or photographers are good because they are bad players?
Play of photographers.
[Aura Design] Celebrity Dress/FATPACK Fitted for
*Reborn
*Waifu
*Perky
*Lara
*Lara-X
*Petite
*Petitex
*Gen.X Classic
*Gen.X Curvy
*Kupra
*Erika
FATPACK-HUD CONTROLLER LONG AND MINI VERSION
---------------------------------------------------------------
HUD CONTAINS, 30 SATIN, 30 DIAMOND TEXTURES FOR THE DRESS, GLOVES AND SHINE.
If you have any questions, please send me NC to Siriussx Resident.
Please, before buying try the free DEMO.
Hope you like it and enjoy!
Kind Regards,
♥Siriussx Resident♥
• Marketplace : marketplace.secondlife.com/stores/239631
• Aura Design Mainstore : maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Great/61/239/22
• Flickr : www.flickr.com/photos/auradesign/
Did you ever stop to think what controls the universe? Did you know there is more water on earth than land? How is the ocean able to stay in its rightful place without flooding the earth? How was water created and from what source? What would be its purpose? We know the moon's gravity controls the tides of the ocean but what force causes the moon to gravitate and control the tides of the ocean and why? For what purpose? Just because? By chance? Why would chance care? How did it come to exist? Who or what was the earth and heavens made for and why?
What controls the laws of gravity? The scientists say some technical theories of this and that and its cause by some physical source and number or chance but how did it come to exist and where? why? Can scientists explain that? When you look at earth and all its creatures, how were they able to come into existence and why? Why are they there? Why are there so many different species? Why are we here? Are we here just by chance or are we here for a reason to be in a relationship with an all powerful highly intelligent spiritual being who created all things for him and by him for his pleasure and glory and which longs to have an intimate and personal relationship with his children.
How were the planets, stars and galaxies in the heavens formed? How did the heavens come to exist? Did something by chance just happen and it came to be? But why? From what matter did it come to exist? What was its purpose to come into existence? Can people see that things like this just don't happen by chance? Why can't people believe that there is a living and powerful spiritual God and that He is the beginning and the end, and a loving, forgiving and longing to have a personal relationship with his children whom he created.
What controls the movement and orbit of the earth and the heavens? Why does the sun rise and set on earth and what would be its purpose? Why is there light? Why is there oxygen? What would be its purpose? What would be the purpose of light? Did light come to be by chance? Did chance create human beings? And if so, why? Does chance see, feel, hear, create, love? How did chance come to exist and why would it care?
When you see the earth God created and its beauty of colors, trees, sky, vegetation, mountains, seas, rivers, lakes, his creatures, and people, isn't that enough to see that it was put there for a reason? That there is a God who created all things by his Word and hand. A God who wants us to enjoy the beauty of his creations whom he loves. If all this was by chance then why? How did chance come to exist? Why would it care? What would be the purpose of chance?
Why do we have emotion? How is it that we are able to feel, think, love and reproduce? Does chance care? Why would it? What would be its purpose of life? Do you think we actually come from monkeys? And if we did, why did we evolve to human beings? Do you think life started by chance by evolving from cells, fish, monkeys, etc. How did life come to exist and why? That is a question scientists cannot answer because they don't know the answer and would rather choose to make up their own ideas and theories of how life and creation came into existence denying there is an all powerful God who created all things in the heavens and the earth and that he is sitting on his throne above watching us and heartbroken that some of his children choose to deny who he really truly is.
How great is God---beyond our understanding! The number of his years is past finding out.
Job 36:26
He unleashes his lightning beneath the whole heaven and sends it to the ends of the earth.
After that comes the sound of his roar; he thunders with his majestic voice. When his voice thunders in marvelous ways; he does great things beyond our understanding.
He says to the snow, 'Fall on the earth,' and to the rain shower, 'Be a mighty downpour.'
So that all men he has made may know his work, he stops every man from his labor...
The breath of God produces ice, and broad waters become frozen.
He loads the clouds with moisture; he scatters his lightning through them.
At his direction they swirl around over the face of the whole earth to do whatever he commands them.
He brings the clouds to punish men, or to water his earth and show his love.
Job 37:3-13
"Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone---while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?
Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, "This is far you may come and no farther; here is where you proud waves halt'?
Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?...
Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth?
Tell me, if you know all this.
"What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside? Can you take them to their places? Do you know the paths to their dwellings?...
What is the way to the place where the lighting is dispersed, or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth?
Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain, and a path for the thunderstorm, to water a land where no man lives, a desert with no one it it, to satisfy a desolate wasteland and make it sprout with grass?
Does the rain have a father? Who fathers the drops of dew?
From whose womb comes the ice? Who give birth to the frost from the heavens when the waters become hard as stone, when the surface of the deeps is frozen?...
Do you know the laws of the heavens? Can you set up God's dominion over the earth?
"Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water?
Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, 'Here we are'?
Who endowed the heart with wisdom or gave understanding to the mind?
Who has the wisdom to count the clouds? Who can tip over the water jars of the heavens when the dust becomes hard and the clods of earth stick together?....
Job 38:4-38
For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods.
In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.
The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land...Today if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts...
Psalm 95:3,4,5,8
Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day...For all the gods of the nations are all idols, but the Lord made the heavens.
Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and glory are in his sanctuary.
Psalm 96:1-6
...
Please feel free to reply or comment on the above message. God Bless.
Well... lately I've been at a loss to make minifigure wise. I have a really great Bionicle planned, so yeah. Tell me in the comments what I should make!
Diane started turning tricks when she was twenty, having come to the Bronx from Yonkers. Her pimp introduced her to crack cocaine, a "god awful addiction" that she only recently kicked. She now lives in assisted housing, spending the days at a corner gas station near the main road used by the truckers.
She is the mother of three children, who now live in Arizona with their Grandmother. She tries to talk to them as often as possible. I asked her how she wanted to be described, and she said 'as a good person. I have never hurt anyone, I just try my best to get by, make a living. I am decent.'
I came back to get some more shots, but the police arrived, asked her to leave, and then questioned me. Maybe another day.
More on Addiction: Faces of Addiction
New Record out now! to order the record, please send me an email (gene@crushed-eyes.com)
more infos here:
www.geengerrecords.com/products/705284-ippio-payo-genelab...
To those collecting Fashion Royalty from the beginning....can anyone tell me the story of this compact?
Convention Gift?
W Club Luncheon?
Edition Size?
Thank you in advance!
💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋
Questions, questions, questions - as long as you feel you are the luckiest girl on Earth... For you, My Love
I don’t put a smile upon your face no more
I can’t make your heart shine like it did before
You don’t listen to my stories anymore
You can’t comfort me the way you did before
Was I too loud, was I too bad
Was I too open
Was I too high, was I too fast
Was I too close
I don’t feel your lips like the first kiss
I’d rather run away than sit to face the truth
Was I too proud, was I too hopeful
Was I too needing
Was I too crazy, was I too long
Was I too giving
No matter how far, no matter how long
I will be there
Barcelona (Catalonia)
Explore #408 (September 10, 2007). Thank you!
▬▬▬▬▬
Copyright © Marcel Germain.
COMMERCIAL USE. Any commercial use of this image is prohibited without my prior, explicit permission. Please contact me by Flickrmail if you are interested in licencing one of my pictures for commercial purposes.
NON-COMMERCIAL USE. You can use this photo for non-profit, non-commercial purposes as long as (1) you credit me as the photographer and (2) where possible, you provide a link to my Flickr photostream. Please contact me if you have any questions.
▬▬▬▬▬
We had to do a Self Portrait for school.
Here is mine
Strobist :
One sb800 with softbox in front of me @1/4
That's all
I missed Batman while I was on vacation, but he is making up for lost time.
(p.s. Sally just painted the kitchen pale pink and pale buttercream.)
“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart.
Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language.
Do not now look for the answers. They cannot be given to you because you could not live them.
At present you need to live the questions.
Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answers, some distant day."
Rainer Maria Rilke
PS
Inspired by a very talented artist here
thanks,Alex.
:)
Is anyone still gonna enter this? Cause I really hope so. I hope I could get some more entries for my contest. So please enter my contest.
Quante domande mi affollano la testa
In questi giorni di grande dolore
Oggi è il primo giorno del tempo che ci resta
Un giorno buono per incominciare
Quante persone ci son passate già
Da questo incrocio pieno di domande
Milioni di milioni da qui all'eternità
Ma la risposta non è mai abbastanza grande
Per riempire il vuoto che ci manca
Per riempire il cuore dell'umanità
I got so many questions running up inside my mind
Life is so long but it isn't still enough time
To answer all the questions I got inside my mind
Vicissitudes.
Empoisonnements esprits sculptés affections questions complicité signifie détournement des faits intentions entreprise complices meurtre échapper à un cerf,
casi bastinadoes hearken menti combinazioni infallibili inceptions crimini proposizioni di tribunali censurate che sfidano casi di nomina,
dönüştürülmüş yasalar aşırı titiz ihmal edilmiş cezalar fantastik delilik utanç verici sözler nefis hatırı sayılır kan,
fortunae se contemplationem verbis subornatis vitium praevalente notitia actus exterior mihi adversatur scientia verba rebus Mineruam,
domniemania politiques braki raporty niezamierzone narzucenia sprawy pragmatyczne wytrwałe reklamy zmienne cnoty mądrość zachowania,
δεσμευμένες χειρονομίες που επιτυγχάνουν ενοχλητικές εκφράσεις εμπόδια που παρέχουν ανεπαρκή γραπτά κρίνονται ιδέες προωθήσεις,
政治家の好古家は、理解の欠如の不作為の決定を識別する観察を目覚めさせますささやきは不完全さを経験しますカウンセラーは事前に設定された時間を尊重します.
Steve.D.Hammond.
Watching The Wheels
John Lennon
People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell that I'm doing Fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball?
I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
People asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem
Only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry...
I'm just sitting here doing time
My last shoot of 2018, and we scored a cracker of a sunrise.
This in Windang Island, south of Sydney. I have been promising myself for years to go and shoot these wheels, and I've never gotten round to it until this morning. Was well worth the 3:20am rise out of bed.
Such a fantastic location, and the wheels are only a fraction of what is actually here to shoot. A stunningly good seascape location on a mid to high tide.
This year ended extremely sad for our family, and I havent felt like picking up my camera in the past week, due to lack of motivation, and grief, so this morning was my first shoot in nearly two weeks, and it was good to get back amongst it, breathe in some fresh air, get a good ol soaking in the process, and enjoy what Mother Nature had to offer.
Hopefully 2019 will be a better year.
Hope you like "Watching The Wheels"
Cheers, Mike
— with Aurora Jane, Danielle Sheehan and Paul Bartle.
Hello my friends todays painting is from one of my memories of Olongapo City, Philippines .my visit to Olongapo was special in many ways.Since I was in the navy at the time it was a chance to get the hell off the ship (U.S.S Callaghan DDG-994) google it haha I was a plankowner of that ship which meant I was part of the first crew on board which was a destroyer,anyway time to write about the the most exciting town in the Orient. The stories I heard about this place before even stepping foot off the ship were amazing,lets just say I was happy to be a single guy, this was my chance to experience what had become legendary - a night in Olongapo. For the bar owners it meant money, and lots of it. And for the Filipinos employed at the various clubs it meant not only income, but often the chance to meet the right guy and, if they were so disposed, to start the move eastward. the famous line of I love you Joe no sh&t take me back to the states was a line I heard almost every night, not me but some sailors actually got married to some very beautiful Filipino women, just walking down the streets would cause women to flock outside to you grabbing your arm like your some kind of rock star, to them you were rich, which is certainly not the case as everyone knows service men and women don't make jack squat really, but to them yes your rolling in the doe,its really a sad situation looking back on it the way alot of people and especially woman have to live but at the time being a young punk with a bunch of like minded navy men out to get drunk we were in heaven,at least in the minds of a bunch of young punks,another thing I remember is before you came into town you had to go over a little river known simply as the "Sh&t River." only a sailor could of thought up that name , but it was fairly appropriate given that raw sewage from the town was often dumped into it. Boys in little, flimsy boats beckoned from below the bridge, telling passers-by to throw pesos or centavos into the river. When a coin did get thrown, the boys would dive into the filth and somehow retrieve the coin. The navy eventually tried to discourage this practice by putting a fence along one side of the bridge. which is a good thing because no telling how many diseases one could get from such a practice,once in town and in a bar Most of the Filipinos who worked in bars, did not consider themselves prostitutes. In many ways this was true.
A bar fine worked like this: if a guy sat at a bar and got to talking to one of the girls behind the counter, he could ask her to leave the bar with him. The girl had the option of saying yes or no, though the bar owner or mama-san would often discourage refusals. Still, girls could, and did, refuse invitations by servicemen to go out on the town. This was one aspect of the barfine which distinguished it from prostitution. lucky for me Im a good looking guy and women would often want to pay me hahah sorry I guess I still have some of that navy jackass in me, just joking,any how
If the girl was agreeable, however, there would be a fine. Technically, you were not paying for the girl. In fact, the money you paid to the bar was to compensate the owner of the bar for the loss of the girl's work that night. This is because most of the girls worked for little or nothing other than tips. So if you wanted to deprive the bar of what was essentially free labor, you had to at least compensate the owner for the loss. Thus the "fine."
Granted, the girls did normally receive half of the fine. But this was merely a bonus paid by the bar to the girl for bringing it repeat business. Barfine amounts depended upon the bar. In the 1980's, barfines at the flashier places could go for as much as 500 or even 600 pesos a night - about $30 to $40 US. In the smaller bars fines averaged 400 pesos and sometimes even less. So what did a barfine get you? The only thing a patron was guaranteed was that the girl would be allowed to leave the bar with him. This came as a rude shock to some Olongapo newcomers, who assumed that the fine ensured him of a night of sex. It did not. True, the girls were highly encouraged by the bar owners to consent to sexual requests, and the girls themselves sometimes did so simply to ensure another barfine the next day, but the girls were not obligated to do anything. On most first "dates" the best you could hope for was a kiss, unless the girl was an unabashed "professional." Most were not, however. Most were girls from villages or other islands who served customers drinks most of the night, but who suffered the indignity of wearing a one piece bathing suit every hour or so in order to keep their jobs. They did this in order to make a few pesos for their family, and more often than not, in order to find a nice American guy who was marriage material so that she and her family might actually have a future of some kind. These Filipinos tended to cluster together in groups for safety and solace, If concrete relationships were established, a serviceman could sometimes buy a lifetime barfine from the bar. This would be a large, flat fee paid to the bar to ensure that the girl would always be available for the payee. Some of the girls liked this arrangement because of the implied commitment, and because it often served as an excuse on their part not to accept barfines from men they didn't find attractive. Note that a lifetime barfine did not necessarily prohibit the girl from accepting barfines from other men,especially if your ship pulled out even for a few days, and it did not carry over if the girl quit one bar and began working at another. Also, most of the girls were hopeless romantics. From the start most of them made it clear that they were not sexual partners. They were girlfriends, or "honey-ko's." You would take them dancing and out to eat and give them everything else which a girlfriend was due. She would meet your friends, and your friends' girlfriends, and you would take vacations together (for example, to Baguio). You might meet her family (usually an awkward affair).. Those pre-port fantasies of choosing a different girl every night would evaporate for most guys. If you decided to take out another girl, your own friends would question why you were "cheating" on your girlfriend, and you could bet that the "Filipino Network" was working at lightspeed to get word of your infidelity to the right parties. Despite their most stubborn efforts to remain a "playboy," sailors and Marines usually found themselves in relationships. Which implied - yes - commitment! It was a very humbling experience.
When the ships pulled out, that was a time of tears and promises. The girls who had found boyfriends would cry, the girls who had not welcomed the arrival of new ships and new hope. Promises were made by the sailors and Marines to come back, to write, to remain faithful...promises normally broken. Not always.Im pretty sure the navy no longer has a base there after many years and with the service men gone I have no idea how that place is now, after all even with all the crazy stuff that went on alot of money was pouring into that little city every night from servicemen around the world,
Turn of a Friendly Card
************************************************************
Based on a true adventures of a rogue active in the waning years of the 1930’s as discovered in the criminal archives of Chatwick University.
Act 1
I begin my tale in the present…
That afternoon a soiree was given as part of the purchase price of the tickets for the annual Autumn Charity Ball to be presented later that evening at the manor’s great house. Since I was alone, I just went mainly for the free food and to rub my elbows with the wealthy guests who would be in happy attendance there, and at the Ball. I was alone, but certainly not bored. There was a game I enjoyed playing to pass the time at these affairs that entailed scoping out by their dress and day jewels worn, those ladies whom would be most likely to be wearing the better costumes and sparklers that evening. It often proved to be a most beneficial insight into the actions and mannerisms of the very rich. I walked amongst the cheerful guests, eying one here ( a lady in satin and pearls) and another there( a high spirited girl with a diamond pin at the throat of her frilly silken blouse). It was as I was passing the latter that the friend she had been talking too (dressed like a vamp), bumped up against me. I caught her, steadying her as they both giggled. I didn’t mind, for the lassie’s too tight satin sheath tea dress had been an enticement to hold, and the gold bracelet that had been dangling from her gloved wrist had been a pleasure to observe. I kissed her gloved hand, rings glittering, as I apologized gallantly for my clumsiness. Her eyes were bright, almost as bright as the twin necklaces of gold that hung swaying down pleasantly from between her ample bosom. I left them, moving on to greener pastures, and it was very green, all of it….
It was then that I detected another pretty lassie. It was her long fiery red hair with falling wispy curls that first captured my attention. She was wearing a fetchingly smart white chiffon party dress that commanded me to acquire a closer examination. She appeared to be a blithe spirit, seemingly content with just being by herself and roaming about with casual elegance, the extensive grounds of the manor proper. I began to discreetly follow her at a distance. Although she did not wear any jewelry, her manner and the eloquent way she moved is what attracted me the most. It would be very interesting to seek her out later that evening and she what she would have chosen to decorate herself with. I followed her as she sojourned into the depths of a traditional English garden with a maze of lushly green trimmed 8 foot high hedges
As I strolled through the hedgerows in her wake I allowed my mind to wander its own course. Suddenly I straightened up, my reverie broken by an epiphany of sorts. I allowed myself to grin and the lady whose enchantment I was swollen up in, at that moment turned, and seeing my beaming smile assumed it was for her and gave me a rather cute nod of her head. I answered in same, as I headed en route to a nearby stone garden bench to allow my thoughts to think through themselves.
But before I go on, allow me the pleasure to sojourn and reminisce about an incident that occurred several years prior:
*******************
I was still working unaided in those days, travelling on to a new next quest that would take me just outside of Surrey.
I had just purchased my train ticket and had seen my luggage safe on board when I decided to rest in the lounge, it being some 45 minutes before allowed to enter personally aboard. Being so early the lounge was almost deserted, only one other occupant. I assumed she was waiting for someone on an incoming train due to the fact she carried no luggage. She was obviously well off, well dressed in satins and lace, and her jewels shone magnificently in the dim lights. Especially one of her rings, noticeably lying loosely around a finger, it sparkled with an expensive brilliance. I had seen one like it in a tiffanies store, worth almost 250 pounds. But she did not appreciate the show her jewelry was putting on under the lounge lights, for she was fast asleep.
I circled around her, aiming for a seat next to her, eyeing her and her possessions carefully. I noticed her purse had fallen off her lap and lay on the floor. An idea popped into my head, and I picked the purse up, and looked around carefully, before placing my plan into action. But I was thwarted as an older, matronly lady was spotted heading our way. I slipped the purse into my jacket and moved off before I was noticed. Of course she came in and took the empty seat across form the sleeping princess, and soon busied herself with knitting. As the older lady had sat down, not quietly, the wealthy lady stirred waking up at the noise. I went into a corner and sat, waiting. The two ladies soon fell into conversation; the minute’s ticked by excruciatingly slow. Soon I noticed we even had more company.
He was a lad of only fourteen, but with a devilish look about him that marked him a kindred spirit to meself, and his quick eyes were darting about taking it all in as he stood outside the paned glass window.
It was as the first announcement of boarding the train that I saw a chance for opportunity to strike.
The older lady folded up her knitting and clinching her bag, bid adieu to her new friend,( befuddled a little by the old ladies constant stream of gossip), and headed to the train. I was twenty steps ahead of her and was standing behind the youth as she left the lounge. I tapped him on the shoulder; he looked around at me suspiciously, and then caught sight of the shilling I was holding in front of his nose. I quickly whispered a few words into his ear on how he could earn it, and his grin spread as he bought into my story. I still held onto the shilling as he darted around and inside the lounge. I watched as he ran up behind the lady, circling her, then running in front of her he tripped over her leg, as she helped him up, her hand with the ring reaching down, he turned and spat onto the wrist and sleeve of that hand, than standing he ran away. Running alongside me, I handed him the shilling in passing as he ran off, disappearing in to the street.
I went inside and approached the astonished lady, as she was looking for her purse to get a handkerchief, confused as to its absence, while she held up her soiled hand( ring glittering furiously) in utter disbelief. I approached, catching her attention by the soothing words I uttered to her. I took her hand, unbelieving with her at just had happened, and I as I apologized for the youth of today I produced my own silk handkerchief and starting with her silky sleeve, began to wipe it off, continuing my tirade of displeasure and contempt at what had just occurred to the dear lady as I did so. As I finishing wiping her down, ending with her warm slender fingers, I kissed them, just as the last boarding announcement came over (perfect timing!) I let her go, explaining that I must catch my train. I turned and without looking back made the train just as it was letting off steam before chugging off.
I gained my private carriage just as the train began to lurch away. It wasn’t until after the train began its journey that I casually removed my silk handkerchief from my pocket and unwrapped it carefully, admiring up close the shimmering, valuable tiffany ring that was lying inside. I pocketed it, and then remembered the purse. I took it out and examined its contents: coin and notes equaling a handsome amount, a gold (gilded) case, embroidered lacy handkerchief, small silver flask of perfume, and ( of all things)a large shimmering prism , like one that would have dangled from a fancy crystal chandelier. A prism?, I questioned with interest as I examined it. It was pretty thing, about the circumference of a cricket ball, but shaped like a pendulum, it shimmered and glittered like the most precious of jewels. Why she had it in her purse? I couldn’t guess, and I saw no value in it, so I pocketed it and allowed it to leave my mind.
As I settled into my seat I began to think of the lad I had just met, I had been right on the money as far as his eagerness for mischief. Actually he reminded me of myself at that age, and I wondered if that lad with the shifty eyes would also turn out to follow the same course I had explored.
Which Begs the question, what had I turned out to become. And since I’m still reminiscing
I’ll give little background material about me, hopefully I don’t come across as being too conceited about my self-taught skills..
I had never been one to take the hard road, and even at a young age I was always looking for angles, or short cuts to make some money.
Once, while watching for some time a street magician and his acts. I observed a pick pocket working the crowd. He approached a pair of well-dressed ladies in shiny clothes, and standing behind them bided his time and then lifted a small pouch from one velvet purse, and a fat wallet from a silken one, then he moved on. Now both ladies were wearing shiny bracelets, one with jewels. I thought that he could have realized a greater profit if he had nicked one or both of the bracelets first, than try for the contents of their purses. The bracelets’ alone would have realized a far greater profit than what he lifted from their purses. It further occurred to me that by mimicking some of the sleight of hand tricks and misdirection that the magician was using on his audience, it could be accomplished. A hand placed on the right shoulder and as the lady turned right, whisk off the bracelet from her left wrist, and excuse oneself, that sort of thing.
So, I practiced (on my sisters, who proved to be willing accomplices to “my game”) and learned to pick their purses and pockets. I than moved onto their jewelry, starting by lifting bracelets and slipping away rings, before advancing to the brooches, necklaces and earrings they were wearing. After I was satisfied at my skill level, I went out and worked the streets. Sometimes using my one sister who was also hooked on what I was doing as a willing partner.
But I found myself still not being satisfied, in the back of my mind I thought there had to be a more lucrative way to turn a profit.
I’d found my answer when an attractive lady in a rustling satin gown zeroed in on me while I was “visiting” a ballroom. She was jeweled like a princess right up to the diamond band she wore holding up her piles of soft locks like a glimmering crown. The more she drank, the closer she got and I decided that her necklace would definitely help pay my expenses more than the contents of her purse (although I had already lifted the fat wallet from her small purse), and I did have very expensive tastes to pay for. So I took her onto the dance floor.
I was amazed at how easily I had been able to open the necklace’s clasp , slipping it over her satiny shoulder, lifting it off and placing it safely in my pocket with almost no effort. Then she decided to be playful once the song ended and brushed up against me. She felt the necklace in my pocket and before I could act she had her hand in and pulled it out.
The silly naive twit thought I was teasing her and told me that for my penance I had to go up to her suite in order to put it back on for her. I kept up the charade as best as I could.
And that’s where we ended up. A little bit of light fondling began as I placed the necklace back around her throat. I began to tease her, plied her with more and more alcohol as I tried to keep my distance, and virginity. Finally she passed out in a drunken stupor, but not before I had learned where she hid her valuables by suggesting she should lock her jewels up for the night..
With her safely unconscious, I began to strip her clean off all her jewels, reclaiming the necklace first. Then I visited all her jewelry casket and began looting it. I even took her small rhinestone clutch with the diamond clasp; of course I already had liberated its small wallet.
When I’d left her lying happily asleep in bed, still in her satin gown( the only item left to her that shined), I knew I had found a much more profitable line of “work”
So I began making circuits around to the haunts of the very rich, I still kept may hand in pickpocketing, so to speak, but centered only on those “pockets” containing mainly jewelry. I also began to carefully explore new ways of acquiring jewels” in masse”, so to speak.
Soon I had accumulated many tricks and tools, having them at my disposal to put into action once required, and for the remaining years up till the present had managed to live quite comfortably off of the ill-gotten gains using them allowed me to acquire.
Which brings me back to the train ride, my prism, and the rest of my background story before I retun to the present tale. Please be patient.
*****
So, anyway, I reached Surry without any further incident and disembarking, made my way out to the large country house where I would be staying to take a short rest, vacation if you will. But, pardon the play on words, for there is never any rest for the wicked, is there?
I had become acquainted with a servant of the old mansion ( almost a small castle, really) , that was about a mile off. I managed to learn a great deal, and soon found myself, on the pretense of visiting her, exploring the grounds. There was to be a grand ball taking place a couple of weekends away , and the maid had filled my ears with the riches that would be displayed by the multitude of regal ladies making an appearance. I began to think about trying to make a little bit of profit from my vacation. I am not sure how the idea developed, but the prism that I still had in my possession, came up centrally into my plans.
Late on the evening of the regal affair, I snuck over, covered head to toe in black, with my small satchel off tools by my side. I set up a candle behind an old stone ivy covered wall in a far corner of the rather large and intricate English garden that surrounded the inner circle around the mansion. I than strung the jewel-like prism in front of it. Standing behind the wall, I would strike the prism with a long stick I was holding whenever I observed sparkles emanating from silkily gowned ladies walking in the distance, solitary or in pairs. The prism would flash fire, sort of like a showy lure being used when fishing in a crooked trout stream. Only I was fishing for far sweeter game than trout. My objective was to trick certain types of jeweled ladies (scatterbrains some may call them) by luring them down onto the path beyond the wall, using their natural curiosity to my advantage.
I had at least two strikes rise up to my lure in the second hour.
On was a pretty lady in flowing green satin number, decorated with plenty of emeralds, which, hidden in the shadows, I observed were probably paste. I let her wonder about; as she looked and played with the shiny toy, remaining hidden until she grew bored and wandered off.
The second was a slender maiden wearing a long sleek black gown with long ivory silk gloves. I had never before seen a lady so decked out in jewels, literally head to toe. With the exception of the rhinestones adorning her heels, the rest of the lot was real, so valuably real that I could feel my mouth salivating at the thoughts of acquiring her riches. Now in Edwardian times only older, married ladies would be allowed the privilege of wearing a diamond Tiara. But in these modern times, it had become culturally acceptable for any well-to do lady, single or otherwise, to wear one out in society. Even so, they were still rarely worn, and seldom seen outside the safety of large gatherings. But there it was, a small, delicately slender piece of intricate art that glistened from the top of her head like some elegant beacon. That piece alone was probably worth more than I had made all the last four months combined!
I began to skirt around in the shadows, placing myself in position to cut off her retreat. Her diamonds blazed as she approached, eyeing the swinging prism with total concentration. Which was unfortunate, because as I was about to leave the shadows, she walked into the thorns of a rose bush, screeching out, and attracting the notice of a pair of gentlemen who had just crossed the path quite a ways off, called out when they heard the commotion. She started to become chatty with them, obviously coming on to her rescuers, my prism all but forgotten. Than before I knew it, in a swishing of her long gown, she was gone, “swimming” off before I was able to set me ”hook”.
Which I was able to do on the third strike, almost an hour later, just as I was beginning to ponder wither I should call it off and head back home..
They were a pair of young damsels in their young twenties. They may have been sisters, or cousins at the least. I still remember how my heart leapt into my throat as they observed my colourful prism and turned down the old flagstone path. I had not seen anyone out and about for some time, so I knew they would be no would be rescuers around to come to their aid
And, best of all, they were both dressed for the kill!
One, the blonde, was clad in a black velvet number that one could cannily describe as quite form fitting. As were the small ropes of pearls that hung from all points of interest, pretty with a matching pricelessness.
But her cousin, as I will refer to her, out shone black velvet quite literally.
This one, a stunning raven haired beauty, wore a long streaming gown of liquid ivory satin. A diamond brooch sparkled as it held up a fold of the gown to her waist. The fold allowed her to show a rather daring amount of a slender bare calf. The brooch was not paste, but a real jewel that had been added for the nights festivities ( To be successful, one learns to read these signs accurately) Her ears and neckline were home to a matching set of pure white diamonds. A wide diamond bracelet graced a bare right wrist ,so she must be left handed I instinctively thought, an observation that would have aided me if I were planning on having a go for slipping the bracelet from her wrist, but tonight I was planning a much more daring attempt to empty the entire jewel casket, so to speak.
They went to the prism, playing with it a bit, I had begun to circle around, when I noticed black velvet pointing out with multiple ringed fingers, to something further down the path past the wall.
With a clicking of heels I let the pair pass, they apparently wanted to see what was on the other side of the wall. I followed; it was not hard, because the necklace the raven haired one wore, diamonds fully encircling her throat, rippled and sparkled from their perch, caught in the full harvest moon’s cast, giving me more than enough light to shadow them quietly .
After a while they caught on that something/someone was following them, but as they turned they could see nothing. I was in black, and hooded, invisible to them in the shadows of the trees. They whispered amongst themselves, now worried, realizing that there were dangers lurking beyond the pale, in their case, the safety of the gardens , especially for ones decked out as they were. They then turned and headed right back from where they had come, right into my waiting arms.
It is interesting what good breeding does for young, poised ladies. For, as I stepped out of the shadows, a finger of my right hand to my lips, my Fairborn in my left hand, its black blade glinting wickedly in the moonlight , they did not scream out or shout for help. Instead the pair merely let out small gasps, and then they both, in a quite charming synchronized display of disbelief, place each one hand over their open mouths, and the other upon their perspective necklaces.
And as I flourished my wicked looking Fairbairn–Sykes blade in their direction, they unquestioningly reached around and undid those pretty necklaces, tremblingly handing them out to me, like actresses following a well-read script. I took the little pretties and after stuffing them into my satchel, held out again my free hand, my fingers beckoning. Not a word was spoken between us, as the frightened pair of young ladies began removing their shimmering jewels and added them in a neat little growing pile along my open palm. The raven haired girl even undid her brooch without me having to command her to do so. Once I had stashed it all away, I motioned for them to turn back around, than with a little helpful prodding on my part, they began moving forward back down the hill, away from the garden. The one in white hobbling a little now as she kept tripping over the hem of her dress, now no longer held up by the stolen brooch.
After we had traveled about 200 meters I had them stop, and take off their high heels. Then picking the pretty things up, I motioned them to turn back around and made them walk back the way we had come in their bare feet, watching the pair awkwardly hobble barefooted down the wooded path. They would be quite a while on their journey back, allowing me more than ample time to make me escape. I threw their shoes off to the side and went briskly the other way, reaching the place was staying at , gaining my room without notice. But not before I had hidden the jewels inside an old stump to retrieve them at a later date. I never really heard so much as a whisper of the incident, other than from the pretty lips of my friendly maiden. The wee hours of the morning before my early departure for the train station found me revisiting the stump and retrieving my satchel and its precious cargo. After hiding it all in a false bottom of my case I laid my head on the pillow and drifted off to sleep as I wondered what had happened to the little prism, marveling at how useful it had ended up proving to be.
So, how does this story (journey rather) relate to the one I had already started? Please read on, and enrich your curiosity… my dear readers.
****************************************************************************
Act 2
So, with apologies for my lengthy elucidation, but I now return you back to the garden party I was now attending on that warm fall day. But, as you will see, my prism story needed to be told in order to add a bit of flavor to what was about to unfold.
As I sat on the garden bench I formulated my plans. I should be able to acquire the main piece tonight at the Ball, I would have time this afternoon to retrieve my ever handy satchel and its array of tools and have it hidden at the spot I had already selected. It was perfect, located at the end of the path I had found, or rather the charming lady in the smart chiffon dress had found for me. A gas lamp would provide adequate light for my “lure”, and it led to a back wood where I could lead any victims away and liberate them of their valuables before making my escape. I rose, just enough time to walk my escape route, before setting up and then be dressed for the evening’s festivities. I looked around, I was alone now, my lady in white had disappeared, following her own course, whatever it may have been.
The Autumn Ball that evening was in full swing by the time I arrived. Being a cool fall day, most of the women were wearing long gowns and dresses, and that, for whatever the reason, usually meant they were decked out with more layers of jewelry than say , if it had been the middle of summer. In order to put my plan in action I need and intrinsic piece of the trap, a prism. The one I had once had was long ago lost, a minor pawn in a game to take a pair of princesses.
I knew exactly the type of prism required for my plan, and so began mingling amongst the guests with that in mind.
I started out by walking through to the chamber like ballroom where a full orchestra was starting to play. The first person I saw from the garden party was the little tramp who had been wearing the too tight satin tea dress. That dress had been replaced with a long silky gown, her gold jewelry replaced with emeralds; including a thin bracelet that had taken the place of the gold one that she had so obligingly dangled in my larcenous path. I decided to avoid her In principle, and in doing so spied someone quite interesting.
That someone was a pretty lady in a long velvet gown standing off to one side, idly watching the many dancers out on the floor. The dancing couples were forming an imagery of a rainbow coloured sea of slinky swirling gowns and with erupting fireworks of sparkling jewels, ignited by pair of immensely large chandeliers that hung over the dance floor, setting them off. I made my way, skirting the dance floor to reach her, my eyes on her jewels, which were making pretty fireworks of their own. I happened to walk up just as a waiter with a tray of drinks was passing by. Plucking off a drink I offered it to the lady with one hand, my other hand placed on her back as If to steady myself. She laughed prettily, and taking the drink I met her eyes, as she was focused on reaching and holding the glass in her slippery gloved hand, mine was on the ruby and diamond necklace. My hand behind her had flicked open the simple hook and eye clasp of the antique piece and was in the process of lifting it up and whisking it away from her throat. As I said a few words to her, I pocketed it, while also taking in the rest of her lovely figure and its shiny decorations, before biding adieu. She smiled, her pale bare neckline now quite glaringly extinguished of its fire.
It was about an hour later, after spotting, but unable to make inroads with several likely candidates, that I finally struck gold (figuratively). It came in the form of a young couple arguing between themselves in a far corner of the chamber. She was lecturing a rather handsome man in a tux, her jeweled fingers flying in his face. If she hadn’t been moving about in such an animated fashion as she lectured, I may not have even noticed her. But as it happened I did, especially noticeable was the sanctimonious lady’s wide jeweled bracelet that was bursting out in a rainbow of colorful flickers as her hand was emphatically waving, as her long gown of silk swished around with every movement she made. Perfect. I watched for a bit, and sure enough they moved off, the man heading for the patio leading outside, the wealthy girl following him, still giving him lashes with her tongue. I moved and managed to have her bump into me simply by stepping on the hemline of her long gown. For a few seconds I was the one on the receiving end of her wrath, but I took it like a man, I could see in the eyes of her tongue lashed husband, that he was grateful for the respite. I was also grateful; grateful for the quite wide, very shimmering, bracelet that I had removed from her wrist and now was residing in my pocket.
I began to leave the patio, but was stopped by a matronly lady in ruffles, laces and pearls, her breath heavy with alcohol. She started to question me on what the couple had been on about. Then without waiting for an answer she launched herself into a tirade of her own, her gem encrusted, silken gloved fingers, waving in my face for emphasis. It was almost ten minutes before I was able to make my escape. Which I did, but not before slipping off one of the lecturing ladies vulgarly large cocktail rings.
I headed onto the patio; the time was getting ripe for my plan, which I was now ready to put into motion, now having acquired its most essential piece. I went to the end of the large patio, weaving in and out of the by now well liquored guests whom had assembled there. Across the way I saw a lady tripping over her own gown. By the time I reached her she had fallen down, giggling merrily. Two of us rushed to her aid, she was busy gushed her thanks to the rescuer she knew, while ignoring the one she didn’t! Which was unfortunate on her part, for by ignoring me, she also was ignorant of the fact that I was busy lifting the small stands of black pearls from her wrist. I left unnoticed, much like a shadow fading out of the light, or at least that’s how it seemed. Finally I reached the patios outer edge without further incident, or gain. I went on the grass and turned a corner with the intention of going, post haste around the house to reach the gardens by the long way, hoping not to be seen by anyone. But I no sooner turned the corner, when I realized that it was not to be the case.
It was my blithe spirit in white chiffon from the garden party, pardon me, soiree. She was unescorted, looking up at the moon above a stone turret with one lit window, so intently that my presence had not been noticed. I had been absolutely correct in my observation of her as far as what she would be wearing for the evening. For what she had lacked in ornaments at the soiree, she had more than made up for in the evening festivities. She was absolutely gorgeous, resplendent in as beautiful a silvery satin gown that I had ever witness. It was just pouring down, shimmering along her delightful figure. Her long blazing red hair was still curling down and free, but now a pair of long chandelier earrings cascading down from her earlobes, were peeking out every now and then as they swayed with her every movement. Her blazingly rippling necklace was all diamonds, dripping down the front of her tightly satin covered bosom, twinkling iridescently like an intensively glimmering waterfall. Her slender gloved wrists were home to a pair of dangling diamond bracelets that were almost outshone by her many glistening rings. All in all she was quite a lure all too herself
I came up to her, starling her from her reverie. Taking up her hand, I looked into her startled, suddenly blushing face. I complimented her on the fine gown she wore. She thanked me, and I could see I that she suddenly remembered she me as the chap who she thought smiled to her in the garden. She seemed to accept my compliment quite readily. I chanced it( although Lord knows I was short on time) and asked her to a dance. I did not think she would agree, so it was with a little bit of surprise, hoping she would politely decline and walk off, leaving me free to go about my business unobserved. But she accepted, and I will admit that my heart leapt as she agreed (although in the back of my mind I knew I should be off if my plan was to work). The music had stopped so we made small talk as we slowly walked back to the ballroom. Her name was Katrina. It seems she was waiting for someone, which suited my plans, but he was late and so she had time. Which may have sounded dismissive, but from the apologetic way she said it, it was anything but the sort.
The orchestra started to tune back up as we entered, and taking her offered hand up, was soon lost in the elegance of my appealing partner. It was a long dance, and a formal one, but I could tell she was subtly anxious to be off on her meeting, as I was to be off to my own adventure. But Katrina did not really allow it to show, which was very uncharacteristic of her someone with her obvious breeding. So I was ready when the by the end of the music she begged her condolences and took flight. I watched her as she fluidly moved away, her jewels sparkling, all of them. On her mission to meet Mr. X I thought, for whom I was already harboring a quite jealous dislike. I should be off I thought to meself.
But I stood, still as stone; totally mesmerized by the way Katrina’s swirling silvery satin gown was playing out along her petite, jewel sparkling figure. It wasn’t till the last of her gown swished around a corner out of sight that I moved, but not without having to shake my head to clear the thoughts of her out of it. Well old son, focus. For by now the guests were starting to wander a bit afield in the waning hours of the Autumn Ball, and my small window of opportunity was closing fast. If my little plan was going to have any chance of success it would have to be now.
I walked out and made my way to one of the outside exist of the garden wall. Reaching into my pocket as I did so, fingering the bracelet, now cold, that had belonged to the quarrelsome lady,and soon would be playing another role, far from one its former mistress would ever have dreamed off. I also felt my new acquisition, still warm from my dance partner’s body. I will admit that I had felt a twinge of regret for taking it from a lady I had found to be most charmingly captivating. But slipping off the diamonds up and away from her throat had been as temptingly easy as it had been automatic. I had advantageously made use of the sleekness of her scintillatingly silky gown, and with the distractions created by the movements of the dance, successfully managed to keep Katrina’s attention safely diverted from the reality of why my fingers were ever so gently, caressingly sliding along her slippery gowns neckline. The truth was I had originally placed my hand there because it had felt so right, and I was a little startled when my fingers had subconsciously started playing with her necklaces clasp. Before I knew it, they had flicked open the gemstone clasp of her obviously expensive diamond necklace, and had lifted up. As I watched out of the corner of my eye, almost like I was a spectator, as opposed to being the perpetrator, I saw the chain move up and over her shoulder; its diamonds sparkling with is as the necklace disappeared from view behind her back.
It was a favored technique that I had perfected to the point that by this stage of my career I nearly always acquired my objective. But, as odd as it sounds, I was not happy with myself on this occasion.
But I did not long dwell on my mixed feelings on taking the charming lass’s diamonds, for by now I had reached my place of ambush. It was in one of the farthest reaches of the garden, at a bend on the end of a long path that, with a gas lamp at its beginning just off the patio, would allow me to see from some distance off. Behind me was a break in the hedge wide enough for a person to walk through comfortably. It was here, off a tree limb, underneath a second ornate cast iron gas lamp, which was now lit, that I hung the shimmering bracelet that I had sought out and acquired for just that reason
I walked around and saw that it could be seen flickered off in the distance from the woods, Perfect! Earlier I had hidden my satchel with a hood and knife and bit of rope in the hollow of an old tree. I now retrieved them, and after getting ready, found my position and waited. At 10 minutes past the first hour of my wait, with nary a single glimpse of anyone, I started to fidget. My corner may be just a bit too desolated I was beginning to admit to myself. It seemed that most of the guests were staying by the patio. I was starting to think that I should pack it in, possibly rejoining the guests for one last parting( of someone from her Jewelry). I was just reaching down to pick up my satchel when I suddenly saw something flash under the gas lamp at the beginning of the path, and my senses immediately perked up. I watched as the wisps of rich shimmery satin moved closer, I stiffened, drooling with anticipation, the game was afoot.
I could see clearly the flickering jewels she wore, and by their blazing sparkles of rippling fire, I knew that my long vigil would not have been in vain. As the lady drew I recognized her gown of silvery satin! I knew who was making those tantalizing flashes of appealing treasures. Katrina!
I watched as she approached, in all her glittering elegance. My heart and conscious was in turmoil, but I knew I probably would not get a second chance. I could not let her get away unscathed. Beside, from the shock of being confronted with a masked scoundrel wielding a wicked blade, she would be in no shape to recognize her assailant. She stopped, apprehensively looking back towards the bright lights of the Manor, Then turning back I saw she had a self-satisfied smile creeping upon her face. She reached up, and undoing her hair, shook it down, curls of softness cascading down, hanging loosely down. It was as she performed this provocative act, that I saw her eyes open wide in curiosity; she had spied my pretty little “prism”. The charming fish was hooked.
I waited, watching her approaching ever closer to fate, and from my concealment, I basked in her glow. My heart beating fast, my adrenaline pumping, for the remaining jewels (I thought of her necklace in my custody) that she possessed I already had witnessed were quite valuable. She passed my hiding spot and went to the hanging, shimmering object. As she reached up, looking around, she failed to see me approaching in the shadows. I came up from behind, jabbing a finger in her back as I reached her, I gruffly in no uncertain terms, snarled for her to freeze and make no sound. She stiffened under my touch, but made no move or outcry. I went around; pointing my knife in her direction, looking into her sad doe wide eyes as she realized what was going to happen next. She was trembling; from fear I guessed, and knew I had her right where I wanted. As I made my demands upon her, gimme them jewels sister, she, not surprisingly, was very compliant in giving them up to me. She reached for her necklace last, and looked entirely shocked to find her throat bare, as she searched the neckline of her gown I saw her look into my hand, now dripping with her precious jewelry, almost as if to see if she had not already removed it. She looked apologetically into my eyes, startled; almost pleading that she didn’t know what had happened to it. I just played dump. She than spoke for the first time, sir, may I ask to keep my purse? Her words would have instantly melted even the coldest chunk of ice, I looked down at the little silvery clutch hanging from her arm on its rhinestone chain, I nodded, indicating that she could, and saw relief wash over her face. I told her she now needed to turn around and walk off into the woods ahead of me. She hesitated, and I told her no harm would befall her, I had no intentions along those lines.
About 5 meters in I stopped her, and had her remove her shoes, as she bent over to undo the high heels rhinestone clasps I watched her gown tightly outlining her figure. She tripped on the hem of her gown, and as she attempted to keep her balance, accidently let her purse slip off her shoulder. Without thinking I reached down to pick it up for her as she tried reached for it simultaneously
The small purse was far heavier than it should have been. Curious I opened it, finding that it contained a rather extensive array of mismatched jewelry, glittering in unbelievably expensive fire . I looked into Katrina’s horror struck eyes dumb founded, as she looked guiltily into mine. The gig was up. The jewels belonged to the lady of the manor, my muse in silver was a thief, a female version of me very self.
Aye, what’s this than luv? I questioned her as she looked into my eyes, hers large with a mixture of fright and disbelief. She melted before me, fainting, I caught her in my arms, and it was no ruse. I held her as she came to, holding her warm, silky figure lovingly to mine. I did not know what to think. Nor could I ever explain what possessed me to do what I did next. As she came to, her eyes opened, and I removed my mask, looking back into them deeply.
Oh, she gasped, I’m glad it was you, startled that she had said the words out loud. She than started to coyly blushes, quite demurely. Something sparked in me, and unless she was an incredibly good actress, it did also for Katrina. Our eyes both looked into the others, melting away in the lust of the moment. We embraced, deeply, and I held her squirming warm slick figure tight in my enveloping arms. I looked over her shoulder, eyeing the glistening bracelet hanging from its branch. To catch a thief, the thought suddenly opened in my mind, what a great title for a novel I thought to myself, as I buried my nose into Katrina’s luxuriously soft hair.
We talked for a bit, walking off into the woods, then she looked into my eyes again, a coy, look that melted me on the spot, and that was the end of it, we embraced again, and wholly gave ourselves to one another. What about your man I asked suddenly remembering, my man she questioned , than oh, you mean the Lord, I was waiting for him to come down from smoking in his tower study, that’s where the lady’s jewels are kept. She broke into an Irish brogue as she said the last bit, and that I guessed was her natural tongue. she laid a hand on the side of my face, thanks for being jealous though, me lad.
I should collect my lure I said, which made her smile; it was such an enticing smile at that. We started to head back and watched as it dangled in front of us flickering. With a far off look in her green eyes, Katrina spoke as if in deep though.
The daughter of the house, she has a bracelet on like the one you have dangling, a bracelet of diamonds that I had taken a fancy to, wishing it had been in the safe along with the rest of the ladies of manors jewelry. I knew who she was talking about. The one in green taffeta I asked? Aye lad, that’s the one. Actually her necklace would be just as easy, and worth more I said. Just then her bright green eyes gleamed, Give me about a half an hour, she told me, we will put your little lure to use again. She noticed my hesitation, don’t worry luv she said soothingly placing a gloved hand to my cheek, no longer was it sparkly with its stolen bracelet and rings. I’ll leave my purse with you, can’t very well be carrying it around now can I? I nodded my consent, my mind burning with the thoughts she had alluringly placed there.
She turned, and then hesitated; turning back she said I probably should not go back in naked luv. I smiled, reaching in I pulled out her necklace and placed it around her throat. With a little gasp she blurted, so it was you, I was wondering who and when it had happened. It’s not the first time I’ve had me jewels lifted, but it’s a bloody annoyance to have to let them get away with it, crawls under my skin to have pretend not to notice so that I don’t draw any attention to me self before making my move to steal the posh ones jewels.
But you, mister, I never felt as much as a prickling. I was ready to assume my pretties had been a victim of a broken clasp this time. I gave a little nod in acceptance. That wasn’t exactly a compliment lad, she said in what I hopped was a subtle jest. Just last summer some clumsy bugger slipped of me earrings, my favorite pearls, as we were danc… she stopped, seeing the guilt in my eyes. Men! As thieves you are all of the same skin she spat out angrily, or attempted to sound angry, for the look in her eyes to me she wasn’t. I best be off, before I change me mind about out little endeavor.
With that she swirled around on her heels, and started off, but not before turning and giving me an extremely coy look of interest. As she swirled back around I heard her say loud enough for my ears, I’ll learn me self to be a picker of pockets, see how males like to be taken advantage of in their vulnerabilities! She nodded to herself as she said it. Then suddenly she stopped, than twirled on her heels, her gown swirling enticingly along her figure. Looking me dead in the eye she said, “Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie” !
What does that mean? I questioned in a low voice, perplexed.
Maybe, Mon Cheri, someday I will tell you… And with that she turned on her heel, her gown once again swirling about, and went, determinedly, swishing her way back up the path. I just watched. I had never heard anyone speak French with an Irish Brogue and I had found it to be rather provocative!
I watched as she swished and swayed her way back through the hedge and regained the path leading back to the manor. Her plan was simple; she would lead the daughter of the house to my corner and as she had done, go out with her to look at the swinging charm. I would then make my appearance, rob both ladies of their finery, and telling the daughter to wait until I released her friend, walk off with Katrina as a hostage, and we would both take off and make good our escape. A simple plan, so simple it should actually work.
So, there I was. Holding a purse with a small fortune in jewels, my pocket full of more jewels worth an additional pretty farthing, and her charms were wearing off by her leaving. And my thieving nature coming back, reawakened from the spell they had been under!
The devil of my conscious crept out on my shoulder, the angel markedly absent from the other.
Look mate, she may not be all she seems, and possibly has some other game in mind. Maybe she does have a male confidante helping her out… and was actually on her way to fetch him. He said in my inner ear. And, after all, you took her diamonds twice, didn’t ye now? Do you really think shell forgive you of that me lad?
And there is no honor amongst thieves, as the saying goes, he added as a closing argument...
I rolled it over in my mind…I could leave, absconding with it all, book a cruise to the states or down under where there lay untried fertile grounds to ply my trade. Not to mention working over my fellow passengers aboard the cruise ship while they attended the fancy affairs that were always going on, or so the brochures always seemed to show……
Then In the distance I caught a wisp of Katrina’s long silvery gown. She was coming, and not only with the daughter of the manor, but also with a spare. For I could see a purple coloured gown swishing alongside with the prey in rustling green taffeta.. I watched as all three ladies, resplendent with the rippling fiery gems they all possessed, came up the path, gowns sweeping out , shimmery from the now misty distance.
The thought of making my escape with all the loot continued to haunt me, there was still time now to take off without notice, or I could rob all three, and leave with purple silk as my hostage, Katrina would not be able to say anything on chance of giving up her part of the game, or I could just be a good lad and sty with the script that Katrina had written. Take a chance, roll the dice and believe that she was all she had me believing she could ever be.
As they came closer I knew my time was running out. The thoughts of just looking out for myself kept coming up playing the devil with my conscience as the precious seconds ticked away…
No honor amongst thieves…
What will it be, old boy I challenged myself,
What will you have it be?........
To see what his decision ultimately was, and the eventual path it led to, see the album question answered)
*************************************************************************************
Life is not about waiting out the storm, but about learning to dance in the rain.
Vie ne est pas d'attendre que la tempête , mais d'apprendre à danser sous la pluie .
*************************************************************************************
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
********************************************************************************
Last evening I loaded two beds onto the Hilux. My beds are overdue for their routine maintenance. It's a cliche about how far we drive to get to the mailbox, and how distance is measured in the number of cans of beer consumed between departure and destination. Preposterous! One must never drink and drive! One might spill some. It will be a reasonable day out — from quirky little pony studs, past places with names like prickle farm to proper jobs where the adjective describes a station. I'm headed for big sky country.
If I call up for a service technician or asked for a delivery, there is usually a momentary silence, then a polite question: "You live where?" The inevitable click is followed by the dial tone. It's not happening. So I fix it myself, or take it to someone who cares.
When I say my beds are due some maintenance, I don't mean vacuuming up the bed bugs, and so on. What I've loaded up are iron and brass frames from the estate. Neither is in what you'd call "as new" condition. One I know was found, or at least, parts of it were found, in a rustic slab-built, dirt-floored farm shed. It has history. I, to this day do not know how a poddy lamb got into the house and was found standing on said bed. The second, like Anne Hathaway's inheritance of Shakespeare's second best bed, is quite likely not the second best in normally understood terms. Most recently it was acquired from a lady vendor on the simple basis that the porcelain spindles were not broken. When I say recently, I mean after the poddy lamb episode but before many other years.
Let's be clear about this: the number of iron and brass bed craftsmen can be counted on one thumb. I can't pick and choose, and fairly, I wouldn't want to. Instead I'm off on a road trip equivalent in length from, say, London to Dundee, or New York to Ohio. Why? So the cheeky devil at the other end can tell me that the second best bed is, in fact, the foot end of two different beds — explaining why the gorgeous little rosettes on the "head" faced to the wall and not inwards. No worry, he'll just cut that off, turn it around, weld it up and job's a good 'un. Or we we can go around to Grumble Bums place, aka his father, to whom he was apprenticed. He might have one in his shed, or that shed over there, or in this shipping container… He didn't.
On a road trip this long, and after all that beer, comfort stops are necessary. Here in a most pleasant Morris Park, in Canowindra, there is a customary notice of the Spring pastime of swooping magpies. Stop! Look again. A long drive it has been, but not an intercontinental drive. Here on a placard notifying the behaviour of a native Australian bird is a cartoon representation of a Eurasian Magpie. I blame the interweb; that and intellectual laziness akin to that which would normally see Victorian era beds, like mine, flung on the scrapheap.
fc09.deviantart.net/fs50/f/2009/257/d/b/db5904ab6b6bc0fd6........does anyone remember Giles's indefatigable granny?
Altering Questions.
Unendliche Unterschiede offensichtlich durchqueren Raum besetzen konsequente Manieren schnelle Zeit primäre Schlussfolgerungen teilbare Teile komponierte Physik,
נימוקים קיצוניים המקביל תנועה תשובות טבעיות רצף חלקים רצופים ירושה מוגדר נקודות ארוכות תאונות לסירוגין שאלות בולט,
تعريفات كاذبة المباني المذكورة العلوم الوقوع التفكير في النظر بعض الآراء مظاهرات أغراض غير لائقة الخلافية,
προτάσεις που αποδίδουν ουσίες που δηλώνουν ισχυρισμούς ουσίας με την πρόβλεψη κατηγοριών που καθιστούν τις υποτιθέμενες απαντήσεις παρεξηγηματικές περιγραφές,
esaminando significati diversi sensazionali conoscenza assicurando giusta ragionamento ha scoperto certezze individuali termini argomenti dialettici,
健全な同等の部分潜在的な原則プロセスを特定する様々な差異を増やす潜在的な学習の移動可能なレッスン変化するポイント無限の議論大きい比率相応の時間.
Steve.D.Hammond.
En extrapolant, pour une élection politique c'est la question de confiance...
_________________________
2021-12-17 18-00-21 L1001632-2-Modifié SEP3
Question: When is a plum not a plum? Answer: When it is a plum tomato! My favorite: Banana Legs, at Brook Lawn Farm Market.
a question for my Partner Blogged at Stitched In Color. Please hop on over to see other hoopy inspiration and let me know what you like BEST of all!
1. Scrappy Hoops, 2. Untitled, 3. Girl under a button tree hoop, 4. Project #2 , 5. Oh Happy Day!!, 6. Scrappy {Hoops} Swap - For my partner completed!
Created with fd's Flickr Toys