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Should a blouse like this he tucked into the skirt as here or outside the skirt as in the previous pictures. This is an outfit i am going to use when next out and about and so any advise would be really helpful.
Why did you leave me here to burn?
I'm way too young to be this hurt
I feel doomed in hotel rooms
Staring straight up at the wall
Counting wounds and I am tryin' to numb them all
Do you care, do you care?
Why don't you care?
I gave you all of me
My blood, my sweat, my heart, and my tears
Why don't you care, why don't you care?
I was there, I was there, when no one was
Now you're gone and I'm here
I have questions for you
Number one, tell me who you think you are?
You've got some nerve tryin' to tear my faith apart
(I have questions for you)
Number two, why would you try and play me for a fool?
I should have never, ever, ever trusted you
(I have questions)
Number three, why weren't you, who you swore that you would be?
I have questions, I've got questions haunting me
I have questions for you
I have questions for you (I have questions)
I have questions for you
My, my name was safest in your mouth
And why'd you have to go and spit it out?
Oh, your voice, it was the most familiar sound
“Nessuna bellezza di primavera, nessuna bellezza estiva hanno la grazia che ho visto in un volto autunnale.”
D. Donne
So I'm currently trying to get a shiny eevee in heartgold and I was wondering what Pokémon should I shiny hunt/hatch next?
I had a brief cross-dressing session this afternoon, only my second time in 2011, my first being in late September after a twelve month period of zero opportunities. I was in the mood to record some video as Helene but had no real direction. Fortunately I received some questions from another transvestite friend Steffy Jensen.
I did answer all her questions but as Flickr restricts videos to ninety seconds I'm only able to post one partial answer just now. The full length video is here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9rLquw2_01U
I'm posting this one as I liked the question. I think a lot of perceived peer pressure can be felt by cross-dressers and sometimes push them into decisions and areas that can be confusing and upsetting.
The big one is of course transitioning. I am keen to be a woman but I know I will never transition. Steffy asked me why I would never transition and I attempted to answer her question in the video.
I rather enjoyed responding to her questions and I'm now keen to do this against….if anyone has any questions ….
Helene x
Do ya'll think people would be interested in purchasing minifigs like these off ebay as I am thinking whether or not to sell them?
If love asks a question, do not deceive
For the truth is the answer, I only believe
If my heart should open, love do not fear
Or if my eyes in happiness shed a tear
Let the wind in my soul blow you away
And the sun in my heart brighten your day
If love and life I was asked to compare
Both of these with you I wish to share
==The Gotham Royal Hotel==
Stairwell: Floor 13
A barbed tendril shot out from behind Jenna; pulling Gar off the railing, it caught him just as he reached the thirteenth floor and threw him at Franco's feet. The flamethrower fell out of Gar’s hand and rolled out of his reach. As he hit the ground, his forehead scraped against the concrete floor. Shocked, Jenna's eyes followed the tentacle back to the source, her mouth open, as the red tendril retracted into Ramsay Rosso's arm.
"In answer to your earlier question, Miss Duffy," Rosso spoke, tilting his head towards Franco. "That's how I healed him."
"Didn’t exactly stick the landing, did he?” Franco chuckled, kneeling beside Gar. “What’s the matter, Firefly? Did you leave your jetpack in your other suitcase? How very careless!" he remarked, clamping a hand on Gar’s chin.
In return, Gar headbutted him. Hard. Blood gushed out of Franco’s nose, and the mobster stumbled backwards, taking a moment to steady himself. "You’ve got a meta on the payroll?” Gar growled at him. “Afraid of a fair fight, you coward?"
“Not afraid, no,” Franco stated, wiping the blood off his face with a white handkerchief. “But I am practical. Why exert myself at all?”
Gar readied himself for a second lunge, eying his fallen flamethrower lying between Rosso’s legs.
"Ah-ah-ah. Think it through, Firefly. Whatever slight lover's tiff we're having is irrelevant. You kill me in cold blood and she'll never love you," Franco goaded him. “Oh, not that you could.”
As he rambled, Gar’s eyes locked with Jenna’s.
“Maybe not,” Gar replied, rising to his feet. “But if it frees her from you, then so be it.”
Franco’s smile faltered. “Shame.”
As Gar raised his fist, something peculiar happened. His arm stopped in mid-air, mere inches from Franco’s face. The rest of his body followed suit, as though he had been frozen in place. His thoughts, his feelings, were still his own, but now his body seemed to answer to an outside force.
“How-?” he gasped, struggling to push the word through his lips.
Rosso eyed the fresh wound on Gar’s forehead, smiling. “That’s a nasty cut, Mr Lynns. And one cut is all it takes.”
Franco grinned, as he nudged Gar’s arm out of the way, and struck his face with a right hook; payback for his broken nose. “What, you thought that hentai thing was the only weapon in Ramsay’s arsenal?” he tutted.
"Davey, stop it, don’t hurt him!” Jenna urged him. But try as she might, she found herself unable to intervene. Her eyes widened; her body was frozen in the same manner that Gar’s was. “Why-? Why can't I move?" she struggled.
Franco stepped away from Gar, and sauntered over to Jenna's side, running his hand through her strawberry blonde hair: "Cause, I don't want you to," he whispered, giving Rosso a nod of approval.
Rosso took a step towards Gar, his brown irises replaced with pitch black eyes. A deep sense of unease washed over Gar as the man's form shifted to that of his true self: Bloodwork. First, his slick black hair fell out; next, his clothing tore apart as his size expanded; Red muscle pushed its way through his skin and blue and black veins rose to the surface
"I can feel your blood pumping through your veins, from your head to your toes," Rosso spoke, a sick sense of pleasure taking hold of him. His throat pulsed as he taunted his paralyzed prey: “The possibilities are endless. I could burst an artery, cause a brain haemorrhage. I can create a blood clot. Give you a heart attack. Or, I could simply do this;"
And then, against Gar’s will, he brought his own right fist crashing against his mouth. His knees buckled, but he stayed upright. The next blow came from his left hand. Then his right again. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. With each punch, more blood shot out from Gar’s mouth. With each punch, his body shook but stayed standing. As the pattern repeated, Franco giggled with childlike glee, placing an overly familiar hand across Jenna’s back. And though she tried to close her eyes, save herself from the heartbreak, Rosso wouldn’t let her.
“Davey, stop him! Please, stop him!” Jenna pleaded, tears falling down her face.
But Franco didn’t care. For him, this was merely a lesson in loyalty, a way to punish Jenna for her ‘disobedience.’ "Oh, Firefly, man, why are you hitting yourself?" Franco snickered. "Why are you hitting yourself?"
"Davey, stop it! Stop it Davey! You’ve got me, let him go!” Jenna shrieked.
“I do have you, don’t I?” Franco’s smile became a bitter sneer and his grip on her back tightened.
“But I can hardly invite Ramsay on our honeymoon, can I? This, is the only way you’re gonna learn.”
At this, Rosso raised his fist and Gar involuntarily stepped forward. His movements were unnatural, haunting; his arms hung limp at his side like a ragdoll and his feet dragged along the ground. Gripping the railing, Gar was forced to clamber atop the bannister overlooking the stairwell. Rosso’s hand shook slightly and Gar’s whole body lurched forwards before regaining its precarious footing.
“Davey, for god's sake, I'll go with you, just stop it!" Jenna screamed.
Franco raised a hand, halting Rosso.
"No tricks?" his eyes narrowed.
Jenna swallowed. "No tricks."
Franco clapped his hands together in childlike delight. “Well, that’s alright, then!” he declared.
Disappointed, Rosso tossed Gar aside and relinquished his control over Jenna.
"Just keep him pinned there for now, Ramsay, then come find us at the rendezvous,” Franco ordered, grabbing Jenna by her arm. “I don't want him following us." Unnoticed by either of them, Jenna kicked Gar’s flamethrower over to his side, before departing with Franco. Though badly injured, Gar mustered all the strength he could to unscrew the fuel tank, and with his other hand, retrieved his lighter from inside his pants’ pocket. He had to fight through the control. For Drury’s blessing, for Jenna’s sacrifice to mean anything, he had to fight this. He stuck an old tissue in the bottleneck of the canister, and flicked the lighter.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Rosso chuckled. He could only see Gar’s hands fidgeting, not the weapon he was crafting. “My lifeblood is inside your veins. Your body, your will, is Bloodwork’s, to do with as I please.”
"That's the thing about blood…” Gar grimaced, and with every ounce of strength he had left, he pushed the lit projectile along the ground towards Rosso.
“It boils."
The canister exploded under Rosso’s feet; bathing his body in bright orange flames. Rosso screamed in agony as his red skin burst and popped. Finally, he stumbled over the ledge, falling thirteen stories and as he hit the ground, he popped like a balloon, erupting into a puddle of hot red goop. Gar didn't linger for too long. Whether Rosso reformed or not was unimportant, not when Jenna was still at that maniac’s mercy. Pursuing Franco, Gar swung open the door to the 13th floor corridor, ducking around corner and corner until he reached the passage entrance.
Gar and Franco locked eyes from the opposite ends of the hallway. Franco gave Gar a mocking salute, and then locked the passageway behind himself and Jenna. Gar limped towards the tunnel entrance, pounding his fists against the metal door until his knuckles bled, but it was no use. They were gone.
===The East End: Six Years Ago===
Johnny LaMonica exited the apartment building, blissfully unaware that he was being watched. A huge smile on his face, he clicked his heels and counted his stack of 20 dollar bills. ‘Another successful day out,’ he smirked as he propped up the collar of his leather jacket and ran a comb through his greasy black mane of hair. What happened next was a bit of a blur for LaMonica; a strand of red web bigger than any spider’s latched itself onto his jacket and propelled him upwards into the clutches of a purple and orange figure, dangling him off the fire escape.
“Christ! Look, pal, I got money!” LaMonica panicked, waving his wad of cash in his assailant’s face.
“Drug money.”
“What? Sure, if that’s what you’re into, maybe-”
“No.” The assailant slapped the money out of LaMonica’s hands. “Every week, you hit up this block and sell your skag. It stops tonight.”
“Look, I can’t just up and leave. People… They, uh, depend on me! It’s the False Facers, really, they give me the H! I only sell it, I swear!”
"I don’t care. The East End is off limits. Don't let me catch you dealing again. If I do, I'll drop you from a taller building."
"Taller wh-?"
The Black Spider let go, and LaMonica plummeted two stories, landing on his leg.
"You broke my leg, you psycho!" LaMonica whimpered, tilting his head to his stack of twenties. They had landed in the puddle right beside him.
==Gotham Royal Hotel: Lobby==
Drury sat in the center of the room, surrounded by broken glass and pine needles. Bruce had stripped Carson down to the black undersuit he wore beneath his armour, and handed him over to the GCPD officers stationed outside. He had not yet mentioned Drury’s involvement to them, well aware that Bullock would jump at the opportunity to cuff him personally.
Bruce bent down and offered Drury his hand. Their eyes made contact and a sense of acceptance washed over them both. ‘It was time.’ Drury bit his lip and accepted Bruce’s hand.
"Where's the suit?" Batman asked.
Drury paused. It took him a few seconds to realise that Bruce had meant his Moth costume. "It's in a car around back,” he mumbled. “Was gonna grab it when things got bad, but well, they really got bad."
Batman murmured understandingly, as he escorted him to the awaiting police barricade. A group of men in white hazmat suits were moving the two large cloudburst devices onto a S.T.A.R. Labs flatbed. Drury cast his eyes over to Sharpe and Mayo outside, reluctantly giving their statements to two young officers, and smiled. Sharpe was complaining that Krill’s belt had been confiscated before he had the chance to test it.
“By the way, I won that belt in a trial by combat. I thought you bozos cared about the law!”
Drury turned his head back to Bruce. "I’ll keep my end. Confess to Ra's' murder, to helping Bane, Slabside… And do my time for the GCPD raid. But that means you gotta let Gaige go, understand? You gotta let them all go."
Drury’s lip curled as Sharpe’s echoes of “Police State! Police State!” filled the air.
"Your father in-law is still part of a major criminal conspiracy. There will be an investigation."
"Yeah, and you'll do what you have to. I know. But if Sionis knows he was involved, in any of this-”
"He'll have my protection. And The Wayne Foundation will cover any medical bills."
"Good." Drury turned his head to look at Eric, standing beside Cass at the police convoy. "Go easy on him, alright? He did good. They all did, actually."
Bruce nodded. "The Outcasts will be moved to GCPD, until Jim can arrange for them to be transferred to Blackgate. The Misfits will be kept here for now. Once they can corroborate your story, they’ll be free to go,” he addressed Drury. “Provided, Chancer doesn’t make anyone else cry.”
Drury caught Bruce’s eye and laughed.
Bruce smiled softly in turn. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.
"Well, if it's easier, I suppose I could just fake my death," Drury smirked back.
Bruce's smile vanished instantly.
Drury rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, maybe some other time.”
As they approached the police barricade, Drury stopped. “Wait. My kids. Please, let me say goodbye."
Bruce nodded to him, and at Gordon, positioned at the other end of the roadblock. Drury reached into his back pocket and frowned.
"Sorry, do you have your phone on you? I sorta fell on mine."
==Wist Residence: Gotham Outskirts==
David Wist was dressed in a red flannel shirt, an elegant gold watch around his wrist. Sat on the porch swing, he was watching the sun rise on his homestead, sipping a beer. There was something particularly special about a Gotham sunrise. A reassurance that you had survived the night. A promise that things were going to be ok. Silly, Wist realised, but he did used to rob art galleries dressed like an earth wire. His momentary bliss was interrupted by voices inside the house. No stranger to home invaders, he jumped to his feet and ran inside, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of the bizarre situation. Sighing, Wist put his hand to his forehead. "Margaret, hand it over.”
“Margaret!" he repeated sternly.
"I found it!" his wife snapped at him, holding aloft a silver prosthetic limb. Axel was chasing her around the room, wearing nothing but a white towel draped around his waist.
"You stole it," Wist stated, crossing his arms. Watching from the landing upstairs, Axel’s sister, Kitten, giggled shrilly. His older brother, Simon, covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle a laugh of his own, while his younger brother, Cammy, was laughing so heavily that green bubbles were blowing from his nose
"It was shiny, all shiny and chrome and new, it's mine!" Pye spat back.
"Christ sake... Give me the boy's arm!"
The prosthesis, flew through the air into Wist's awaiting hand.
"Not fair! Not fair!" his wife protested.
"You want something shiny? Here;" Wist opened his coat pocket and pulled out a single silver spoon. No sooner had he waved it in front of her face, had she ripped it from his grasp and ran out the room.
"I am... sorry about her," Wist apologised, handing Axel his arm back. "She's a lovely woman, really, and I do love her. But we do have our struggles..."
"S'not worth apologising over," Axel shrugged as he sat at the dining table and screwed his arm back into place. "I get it. Mom, Miranda, used to complain to Dad about her challenges, something about her nymphomania."
"Kleptomania," Wist said sternly, sitting opposite him.
"That," Axel blushed. "Earrings that went missing and so on. Dad, thought it was funny. Used to, I mean. Never was all that self aware, I suppose. He used to say to me, 'Son, there are two types of people in this world; the tricksters, and the ones getting tricked.'"
"Hence the Trickster, I imagine. Still, we don't all get to choose our gimmicks. Mags’ with her compulsions, that poor fella Karlo, Croc… Hell, I wanted to be a Clock Villain: I used to be a watchmaker, you see. But Slugsy and Tockman swooped in first, and well, the novelty wore off."
The landline phone rang, and Kitten thundered down the stairs, snatching the phone before Axel or Wist had a chance to stand up.
"Daddy!" Kitten squealed into the receiver excitedly.
Drury bowed his head. He had hoped it wouldn't be her. He always did struggle giving her bad news. "Carson and his associates are in GCPD custody. It's over, you can come home," he spoke, almost robotically, his mouth dry.
"Home? To Keystone? Or home home?" Kitten inquired. Her brothers had joined her at the phone, craning their necks so that they could overhear their father.
"If you want to go back to Keystone, that's fine, I'm sure Axel's friends can work something out. But I thought... I thought you would maybe like to come back to the manor?"
"I don't get it. They lifted your exile?" Simon stood up.
"They caught him," Axel stated.
Drury paused. "Uncle Chuck and Mr Reardon are gonna help Mr Wist move you back in. Wayne Enterprises is going to handle the finances and your Uncle Norbert is gonna help with any paperwork. But... you'll be living with Grandpa Gaige for a while."
"But I don't understand! Where will you be?" Kitten whined.
"Kitten... I did some bad things. I need to answer for them. Got to keep you safe. Grandpa Gaige-"
"We don't want Grandpa Gaige, we want you!" she protested, her voice becoming shriller still.
“I know, cupcake, I know.”
Drury moved the phone away from his ear and dropped his arm down by his side.
"They'll understand," Bruce stated.
“You don’t get it… Every missed birthday, every cancelled family dinner, the divorce, Miranda…” Drury wiped the tears from his eyes. "They shouldn't have to understand. They've been forced to their whole damn lives."
===Six Years Ago===
Johnny LaMonica finished recounting his story to his superior, a blond mobster dressed in a lilac suit. The mobster smirked, and took in a deep puff of an expensive cigar. "So, the East End has a guardian angel... I'll be damned..." he spoke, blowing white smoke into the dimly lit office. A confederate flag, hung from the rafters like a banner.
"You’ll be damned?” LaMonica hopped forwards, waving his crutches in the mobster’s face. “We’re all damned! He’s gotta go!”
The mobster swivelled his chair around, and turned to the bodyguard stood behind him, a man dressed in a set of purple and gold, high-tech armour. “You believe this shit?” he chuckled.
Lightning Bug crossed his arms, but said nothing.
“Boss-!” LaMonica protested.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” The blond mobster nodded insincerely, rising from the leather chair. He walked over to the other end of the room, and lifted a loose floorboard; beneath it, was several bags of pure heroin. "You come back tonight, and you take these to your guys on the street. Spread the word; From now on, you only peddle this. Least, until our pest problem is dealt with."
He threw a sample at the dealer, who fumbled as he caught it.
"You think this guy's a junkie?"
"What, you think this guy's a good Samaritan, hitting smack dealers out of the goodness of his heart? In this neighbourhood?"
LaMonica shrugged.
"He's a junkie, alright. Just traded his needle for a mask. And if he ain't, he's sure to know someone who is. That's how we nail him."
===Gotham Royal: Floor 12===
Roman Sionis exited the elevator, a scowl on his skull-like face. He did not appreciate the time he’d spent trapped in his own elevator, nor did he appreciate the irony that it had been the Red Hood who had discovered him and Li, and he certainly didn’t appreciate the Hood’s muffled snickering, as he and Li shuffled past him. Sionis held his smartphone to his ear, in mid-conversation with Warren White.
“Nah, I don’t know who this Carlton guy is,” White explained, standing outside the hotel, dressed in a navy-blue overcoat. “Some Firebug wannabe. Had some kind of beef with Walker, I overheard him screaming his name. Oh, they got Walker too, by the way. Guess the cops didn’t take too kindly to him robbing their precinct.”
"And the Bats?" Sionis asked, throwing a cautious glance in Red Hood’s direction.
“C’mon,” White chuckled. "They got nothing on you. If they had, you'd be in that van alongside Day."
"Thanks, Warren. Send the word out to the capos:"
"The Doc? Already on it. He can't hide for long, we’ll get him. Oh, hey, if you hurry, you can catch the perp walk. Hell, give me a sec and I’ll get you a photo. It's like Abbey Road over here." White snapped his fingers excitedly as the quartet of Krill, Day, Drury and Carson were directed towards the police transport by a squad of SWAT officers.
As Carson was carted away, Paul Booker's eyes narrowed. "Who the hell was that?" he rasped as Big Sir draped a comfort blanket over his shoulders.
===Ground Floor: Lobby===
Joey Rigger climbed down the grand staircase. He had woken up in the hallway alone; Gaige had vanished, Drury and Carson had taken their fight elsewhere and Gar was probably with Jenna, sitting in a tree somewhere. His head still thumping, Joey vaguely remembered a black figure shushing him. Flannegan was already there, his elbows resting on the balcony.
"That's Drury!" he gasped. "What's he doing?"
Flannegan’s nose wrinkled, his thin face lined with disgust. "He cut a deal.”
~-~
Jenna and Franco walked down the passageway, their only light source being strips of luminous tape stuck to the floor. After about a mile of walking in absolute silence, Jenna spoke up:
"You were wrong, you know," she said softly.
"What's that, Jelly Bean?" Franco asked with faux-interest.
"I do hope he kills you."
Taken today. We are at the 5 week mark - I think maybe half way in the rearing process. Some questions I have been asked about Snow White -
The sexes are alike so I don't know if he/she is male or female but I'll call her "she" for now
I will be attempting to release her at the optimum time. This will entail the bird being put back high up onto the rocks at the gannet colony at Muriwai. The chicks fly when their parents abandon them, when the chick has reached the correct maturity and hopefully weight. They then sit around until they realize they are on their own, and make their maiden flight. Unfortunately this maiden flight takes them 2,000 kms to Australia where they remain for the first 5 years of their lives, and then they return to New Zealand to breed. The advantage to Snow White is that the parents do not teach them to fly or dive for fish, they must learn this on their own, which means Snow White will not be missing out on this! It is going to be traumatic leaving her there, however I can't deprive her of the opportunity to be as she should, an ocean going bird soaring and diving out on the open ocean.
Gannets chose life long partners, staying with them year round. The adult gannets do not leave New Zealand again once they return here at 5 years old. Their hunting grounds range completely around NZ, birds from Muriwai can be seen off any part of our coastline. However the Muriwai gannets will return to Muriwai to breed, and many pairs stay year round solely at Muriwai.
Snow White eats up to 1kg of fish a day over three feeds. She also has a daily vitamin and mineral supplement. She sits outside in a shallow box during the day, I have to keep her used to all sorts of weather, out on the colony it blows a gale and there is no shelter from wind or rain. Now she is healthy she needs to be able to cope with bad weather. She doesn't try to walk off as in the colony they have their own little bit of territory and to wander off is dangerous both from the cliffs and the other adults defending their chicks. Which means that Snow White is happy to sit out on my deck with the hustle and bustle of my other animals coming in and out replacing the hustle and bustle of the gannet colony. At night she sleeps outside in a big cage.
She recognizes me apart from other people, and knows I am the "parent". Anyone else going past her box will get a stab from a long sharp beak!!
Here is a link to a group I belong to who monitor the gannet colony - have a look at the video there showing gannets diving for fish - amazing! www.muriwai-environment.org/action
There are rules/guidance for the layout of signage, barriers, cones (etc) for roadworks.
This layout is a questionable with such a large gap between the diagonal closure and the yellow barriers, with just a single cone to prevent dozy drivers returning to the nearside lane too early.
The yellow barriers protects a 1 metre wide, by approx 500mm deep trench.
Sorting out a few original blinds for the 94 , this one from TL in 1977. What route(s) would have run along the three Bermondsey locations ?. Thanks.
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DUCATI Schwanenstadt GP Austria (c) 2014 Bernhard Egger :: rumoto images 0633
Invercargill and the province of Southland.
A puzzled question is why does a city of 50,000 people exist on the southernmost tip of NZ which has the bleakest climate? Invercargill is the coolest, most bleak and cloudiest city in NZ. It averages just 1,600 hours of sunshine a year compared with 1,500 for London, 2,050 in Christchurch, 2,800 in Adelaide and 3,200 in Perth WA. It has around 200 mm of rain every month of the year and it is a very windy city. It is in fact one of the largest southern cities in the world only surpassed by Ushuaia and Punta Arenas in Argentina and Chile respectively. But because of its latitude it has long summer days. Even in mid-October when we visit the length of day will be around 13.5 hours with the sun setting around 8:20 pm. In high summer twilight ends around 10:30 pm with a 16 hour long day like in Scotland. At this time of the year one can often see the Aurora Australis or Southern Lights an atmospheric phenomena of subarctic regions. Like Dunedin Invercargill was settled by the Scots. Many of its streets and families have Scottish names. It developed as an offshoot of Scottish Otago. The Surveyor General of Otago selected the site for a new town in 1856 and laid out the streets in a grid pattern on this very flat city. The first land was sold in 1858 and by 1861 Invercargill was a very small but flourishing town. Why? Because it had three main riches, apart from some gold found in the hinterland in 1860: it had the largest most fertile plains of NZ; it had a coastline rich with oysters, lobsters, cod fish and abalone( paua); and it had heavily forested mountains with hardwoods which were in great demand throughout the world- rimu, totara, silver beech etc. These basic factors meant that the province of Southland when it separated from Otago in 1861 had a bright future. The land, rainfall, soils and seas would provide for the people as it had done for the Maoris before the whites arrived. Southland consequently has had a rich and varied agricultural past ranging from sheep pastoralism, grain growing especially oats for porridge and barley for illicit whisky making (how could the Scots survive in this cold climate without whisky?) ,linen flax growing and milling, dairying and milk processing, fish and seafood canning, timber cutting and timber mills, and meat freezing and butchering works. These rural industries necessitated railways and like Dunedin Invercargill become a major rail head with lines going north to Lumsden, Kingston and Queenstown in the Alps, across to Gore, and west towards Fjordland and the richly forested valleys adjacent to it. Timber in particular needed the railways. Invercargill established railway workshops and the manufacturing steam engines for the railways of NZ. Its first railway line was built in 1867 to the Bluff, the port for Southland. It was connected to Christchurch by 1878.
In the 20th century Southland has developed hydroelectricity which in turn has attracted industry to the region. Possums introduced from across the Tasman in 1858 have become a major pest but they have also spawned a new industry- possum textiles and woollens; red deer were introduced from Europe in 1901 to Fjordland and now with the advent of helicopters and helicopter farming they are “farmed” for venison and processed near Invercargill. The story of Southland and Invercargill is one generally of success and success based on the climate and the resources of the land. For example, dairying has been strong since the early 1880s and continues today with Fonterra Milk processing mainly for export to Asia; linen flax milling continued until 1956; flourmills have processed wheat and the oat mill in Gore produced porridge oats; and Chewings Fescue was found to thrive in Southland and has become a major industry producing lawns for houses around NZ. Southland introduced prohibition in 1905 which lasted until 1945 and the illegal moonshine or whisky making in the hills east of Invercargill near Gore continued whilst that was in place. But the really big success has been hydroelectricity which began with Lake Monowai Power station in 1925. It still powers Invercargill and feeds into the national power grid. More recently the enormous Manapouri Power Station 200 metres below the water level of Lake Manapouri near Te Anau in Fjordland was completed in 1971 after work commenced in 1964. It is the largest hydroelectric station in NZ and the second largest power station in NZ. It was developed for Comalco to erect an aluminium smelter and refinery at the Bluff near Invercargill which is now run by Rio Tinto and employs nearly 3,000 people from Invercargill but its financial viability is shaky and the plant has been threatened with closure. Another major industry of Invercargill is fertiliser production.
•Invercargill is a Scottish settlement. 40% of Invercargill’s suburbs and nearby towns have Scottish names and the first Presbyterian Church was the leading church of the province. The current church replaced an earlier 1863 church in 1915 when it was completed. It is built of brick with a domed roof, a 100 foot high tower and it is in the Italian Romanesque style. It is on the highway from Dunedin at 151 Tay St. Next on the right is St Johns Anglican Church( 108 Tay St) in red brick built in 1887; almost next door is the impressive Town Hall and Theatre ( 88 Tay St) built 1906 in classical style; next is the YMCA building of 1910 at 77 Tay St; at the roundabout (the location of the Boer War Memorial) at the end of the street is the old Bank of NSW built in 1904 on the right whilst on the left is the former Cornerstone Bank of NZ building from 1879 ; as you turn right into Dee St. you will see a plethora of brightly painted heritage buildings all in good repair – partly because the city’s young mayor from Auckland some years ago supported and encouraged this to revitalise the city. At 136 Dee St is the Blackman building with the large black swan on the roof line and further along (178 Dee St.) is the Gothic St Pauls Presbyterian Church built in 1876 and added to in 1881. In Victoria Ave is the former but now closed Information Centre and Southland Museum. Here also is Queens Park with its rhododendron dell rock garden, magnificent trees etc. Nearby is the City water Tower (a flat city needed a tower for water pressure) built in 1888 with 300,000 red, yellow and black bricks. 101 Doon St.
Other heritage buildings include:
Yerp, that big question.
Where DO you stand in this world?
Have any of you guys felt like you were just a person that would never be heard?
You can speak your mind all you want, but no one would listen?
Have you guys ever felt left out from something?
Because you are different, and you stand out?
We all feel that at points, it's totally okay. :)
Nothing is wrong being different.
Friendship has no:
-Color
-Age
-Gender.
-Imperfections.
I hate seeing people fearing to be friends with someone because they are different.
I hate it how like in the 60's or something, there were many racists, more racists than there are today.
I don't like it when people don't want to be someone's friend because of age.
Who cares how old there are, true friends can overlook that.
Come on, be honest, when you were younger, didn't you LOVE to tease the boys, and call them mean things?
Personally, I dislike single-sex schools, since we're all human, we belong in this world TOGETHER.
Imperfections.
True friends overlook imperfections.
Your hair, your eyes, your weight--- BASICALLY how you look, true friends overlook that.
So please remember this,
No matter how different a person could be, a true friend would accept them for who they are. Not what race they are, what age, or how they look.
I was tagged by Babs and DeanReen , thanks Babs and Deany!!! :) Anyone who sees this - please feel free to join in!
1.) Well Mod Barbie Lover, How are you?
HOT! The bloody extreme Aussie weather is so getting to me! Everyone just sees our glorious sunshine and beaches, but it is RARELY like that over summer... more like oppressively hot, very humid and sticky, with massive thunderstorms every five minutes that wipe out whole suburbs! ( and no power/water etc!!!)
2.) What is the meaning behind your Flickr name?
Pretty self explanatory!
3.) Sexuality?
Yes PLEASE! LOL
4.) Decorating?
I aspire to clean-lined minimalism (Mickey Rourke's apartment in '9'1/2 weeks' was my dream apartment back in the 80's!) but the reality is more 'shabby chic'- approaching 'Grey Gardens' when I haven't cleaned in a while! (Though minus the wildlife... ewww!)
5.) Did doll collecting influence your life in any way?
ABSOLUTELY!!! Like most people who work in the fashion industry, Barbie was my first 'client' and my first connection to the fashion world, so she was a HUGE influence! Nowadays, my collecting is definitely a form of therapy, as it is with others, but I LOVE the research the most! (One of my first jobs was researcher and editorial assistant at a fashion magazine!)
6.) What does your family think about you as a doll collector?
They don't really know about it yet! Though my workmates do and they think it's really cool, actually!
7.) What might be your biggest fear?
Have TOO MANY to mention and can't rate them! LOL But probably dying alone tops my list.
8.) if you could meet anyone on earth, who would it be?
Yves Saint Laurent when he was young and happy... Christian Dior (just reading his autobiography - yes, he actually wrote one, which is amazing since he died so suddenly and at an age before designers usually write their memoirs!) and he seemed to be a sweet, humble, sensitive and very funny man! Coco Chanel because she would be SOOO entertaining... and I always REALLY get on with b****es! LOL... Nelson Mandela, though I would probably be way too intimidated to say anything!!! Oh and yes, Jon Hamm! OBVIOUSLY!!! hehehehehe
9.) Grab a book nearest to you, turn to page 23, read me line 17 (if it’s the start of a sentence, finish the sentence)
"Eventually I fled from the growing materials on the landing, and even found myself working on the steps of the staircase."
– Dior By Dior (talking about the preparation of his first collection that launched his famous 'New Look'.)
10.) What do you think about the most?
My next deadline, and what on EARTH am I gonna do for it... And of course my Barbie/Francie/Skipper/Christie/Stacey/ Ken etc. etc. addiction, my next purchase, and the next Barbie photo I will take!
11.) What does your latest text message from someone else say?
"Hey how R U today? Hot as HADES, Yah?" (A friend from work)
12.) Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
I wear Chanel No.5! (Not really, but I LOVE when Marilyn Monroe said that when asked what she wore to bed.)
13.) What is your strangest talent?
I can touch my nose with my tongue!!!
14.) Girls.... (finish the sentence); Boys.... (finish the sentence)
Girls... are for dressing
Boys... are for UNdressing! HA!
15.) Ever had a poem or song written about you?
Nope... but my high school buds used to mangle Michael Jackson's 'Smooth Criminal' and sing 'Eddi are you WALKING?' ... so does that count?
16.) When was the last time you played the air guitar?
I play no musical instruments, imaginary or otherwise . (Though I DID play the Tuba in a high school band when I was forced into it by the music teacher. I had chapped lips for months!)
17.) Do you have any strange phobias?
Driving. I learnt and everything, but I always think I will smash into a wall or pole or something... ( and had lots of accidents anyway!)
18.) Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?
I think some straws at a party while at school... when I was drunk!
19.) Backpacks or satchels?
Backpacks in the 80's ( I had a GORGEOUS faux leather Prada rip-off one from the Gap that I wore to death) But now... DEFINITELY satchels!