A snapshot of a woman taking a photograph using a TLR camera (top view finder). I suspect the reasoning behind the photograph is to document the corn crop in the background. Found MN.

One of three photos taken yesterday in my walk the Humber Bay Shore Park.

 

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Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Tonight however we are at Rippon Court, the ancient sprawling Baronial style* house and family seat of Sir John Nettleword Hughes, buried deep within his vast estate of Rippon in Bedforshire. Old enough to be Lettice’s father, wealthy Sir John was until recently still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. After an abrupt ending to her understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son and heir to the title Duke of Walmsford, Lettice in a moment of both weakness and resolve, agreed to the proposal of marriage proffered to her by Sir John. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them.

 

Lettice, her fiancée, Sir John, and his sister Clemance have motored over from Lettice’s family home of Glynes in Wiltshire to host the Rippon Hunt. Being a keen hunter, His Royal Highness, Prince Edward, the Prince of Wales has sent word to Sir John that he and a party of his equally enthusiastic foxhunting friends wish to participate in the Rippon Hunt, so Sir John has cut short his sojourn to Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, near to his fiancée’s family seat and has reluctantly returned to his sprawling, draughty and slightly tumbledown, dreaded childhood home to host the Prince in a few days’ time. The Prince has also expressed his express wish to reacquaint himself with Lettice, now that she is Sir John’s fiancée, so she is playing hostess to His Royal Highness, and as the future Lady Nettleford Hughes, has been bestowed the honour of handing out the trophies. Clemance is attending as chaperone.

 

Lettice has not found Rippon Court to her liking. At least twice the size of her own childhood Georgian home of Glynes, it is too large to be a cosy family home, and the draughts, along with gloomy Victorian style furniture make the rooms so cold and unwelcoming. Revelations from both Sir John and Clemance about their treatment at the hands of their cruel and indifferent parents add to the taint that spoils the old house for her.

 

Nevertheless, between the sad stories, there have been moments of happiness for Lettice too, including a lovely afternoon spent with her fiancée in the Book Tower, a haven for Sir John and Clemance when they were children, where the pair enjoyed a luncheon of sandwiches and crumpets toasted over the Book Tower’s fire by Sir John himself. Sir John has just finished an amusing story about one of the old famers that had lived as a tenant on one of the Rippon Estate farms when he was a boy, making both Lettice and Clemance chuckle over their glasses of champagne as they sit by the fire, which keeps the general chill of the draughty old house at bay as the winter winds howl around it outside, bringing a fresh dusting of snow to the grounds of Rippon Court.

 

“Well, I’m glad to know that it wasn’t all gloom and misery here at Rippon Court, dear John” Lettice remarks with a sigh of relief as she chuckles. “Good memories are important too.”

 

“Oh, I meant to say,” Clemance says. “Even though it has nothing whatsoever to do with the conversation at hand, Lettice. Mrs. Tabner came to me this afternoon with the menu for His Royal Highness’ visit. I thought that since you are to be the future mistress of the house, it was better that I deferred to you.”

 

“Capital idea Clemmie!” Sir John remarks, sipping his second glass of digestif** port. “As the next lady Nettleford-Hughes, I’d take it as a personal favour if you showed an interest in what Mrs. Tabner has put together, and give her your opinion.”

 

“Well of course I will, John darling, if that’s what you want.” Lettice asserts. “But why is that such a great favour to you?”

 

“Well, it will help endear you to the staff. I don’t intend us spending very much of our married life here, as obviously this old, gloomy pile of bricks and stones brings me no joy, but I am grateful to be able to leave the running and maintenance of the house in the capable hands of staff like Huntley and Mrs. Tabner.” he says, referring to the Rippon Court butler and cook. “So if you can engage with Mrs. Tabner, I’d be most grateful.”

 

“Of course, John.” Lettice assures him.

 

“Jolly good, Lettice my dear. My cook at Fontengil Park isn’t a patch on Mrs. Tabner, but she’s a local woman and she won’t leave Bedfordshire for Wiltshire, even though I’ve tried to entice her to decamp Rippon Court.”

 

Just at that moment, there is a gentle rapping on the old oak door of the drawing room.

 

“Yes?” Sir John calls imperiously. Mr. Huntley’s head appears as he opens the groaning door and steps into the drawing room. “What is it, Huntley?”

 

“Pardon me for interrupting, Milord,” the butler says. “But it’s the telephone.”

 

“I didn’t hear a telephone bell.” Lettice remarks, looking around from the comfort of the Knole sofa*** on which she sits, warming her hoes before the crackling fire.

 

“Well, it’s so far away from here, just inside the vestibule****, in the entrance hall, that I’m not surprises you didn’t hear it, Lettice my dear.” Clemance remarks. “Father and Mother were out on the grounds so often, pursuing their lust for bloodsports***** and other outdoor activities that it seemed the most logical place to put it, right next to the garderobe******.”

 

“And it was cheapest for Father to put it there.” Sir John adds. “He and Mother was never ones for the telephone, and called it ‘that bloody contraption’,” He and Clemance chuckle at the quoted term.

 

“I think my maid, Edith, would appreciate your parents’ sentiments for the telephone.” Lettice chuckles with amusement. “She feels exactly the same way about mine, and tells it so too.”

 

“Oh how droll!” Clemance laughs.

 

“Humph!” Sir John starts to move himself out of the Knole armchair that matches the sofa, that he is comfortably ensconced in, mumbling and groaning as he presses on the arms to propel himself into action. “This better not be Charles Ireland******* of Toddington Park********,” he grumbles. “With more trying questions about petty protocols for His Royal Highness’ visit. I didn’t make him Master of the Rippon Hunt********* just for him to then telephone me at all hours, when it suits him, to ask me about the trivialities of noblesse oblige**********. Damnable man should never have tried to play the role of the country squire*********** and stuck with his property deals and town life, if he didn’t know what it entailed.”

 

“Language, Nettie.” Clemance chides her brother gently, sipping her champagne.

 

“Well, I best go, then.” Sir John concludes.

 

“I beg your pardon, Sir,” Mr. Huntly says. “But the telephone call is for Miss Lettice.”

 

“Me, Huntley?” Lettice asks in surprise.

 

“It’s Mr. Bruton, telephoning from London, Miss Chetwynd.” he elucidates in his deep, but soft, Bedfordshire accented voice.

 

“Oh Gerald!” Lettice exclaims, leaping from her seat lithely. “How delightful!” She glances at her fiancée with eyes a glitter with excitement. “You don’t mind, do you, John darling?”

 

“No,” he replies with a dismissive wave of his hand as he settles back down in the cosy confines of his armchair. “Not at all, Lettice.”

 

“Here,” Clemance says as Lettice passes her. “Take this with you,” She hands over her thick arctic fox fur stole, draped on the arm of her chair, to Lettice. “And your evening gloves. It will be positively glacial out there in the hallway.”

 

Lettice thanks Clemance as she slips out of the drawing room.

 

As the door closes, Sir John remarks to Clemance, “Funny business that, Gerald Bruton telephoning Lettice here.”

 

“Well, they are best chums after all, Nettie darling.” Clemance soothes. “And they haven’t seen each other since before Christmas. It’s probably to chat about her wedding frock.”

 

“I thought Sadie had put her foot down about him designing Lettice’s wedding frock.” Sir John opines. “There was such a hullabaloo about it.”

 

“Well,” Clemance shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think anyone could stop Lettice from getting what she wants in the end, even Lady Sadie. I suspect there are some discussions that she is entirely unaware of happening behind her back, and all will be revealed, exactly to Lettice’s wishes before the big day.” She chuckles good naturedly. “My dear Nettie, if you wanted a meek, mild and acquiescent wife, I’m afraid you have lucked out with dear Lettice.”

 

“I wouldn’t have her any other way, Clemmie darling.” Sir John replies happily.

 

Lettice follows Rippon Court’s butler down the long corridor which is only dimly lit by the occasional oil lamp used in the evenings for illumination rather than the electric lights overhead, carrying her nearly full champagne flute in her right hand as she pads after him. The shapes and shadows dancing and leaping across the walls, brought to life by the flickering night lights remind her of the old faerie tale of The Snow Queen, where Gerda, upon entering the castle of the prince and princess, sees shadows of knights and huntsmen, courting and dancing couples, which her companion the crow assures her are the dreams of the courtiers, and will cause Gerda no harm. She shivers, as much from the recall of this part of the story that always frightened her as a girl when her Nanny read her the tale, as from the cold of the hallway, with its hard wood panelled walls and black and white marble floor. She pulls Clemance’s stole more tightly around her with her evening glove clad hand, smelling the comforting scent of Clemance’s old fashioned perfume which has permeated the fur.

 

“Here we are, Miss Lettice.” Huntley says at length with a sweeping gesture as they reach a polished table, which like so many other surfaces around the house, is littered with relics of Sir Roderick and Lady Agnes Nettleford-Hughes hunting prowess. And there amongst the cold silver trophies sits a gleaming telephone with the receiver resting atop the polished surface of the table. He pulls out a small stool from beneath the table, probably used primarily for removing galoshes************* or outdoor shoes when coming inside. He then retreats down the hallway, his footsteps growing softer and more echoing with every step.

 

“Hullo Gerald darling!” Lettice exclaims with excitement as she places the receiver to her ear.

 

The line crackles before a slightly echoing and washed-out version of Gerald’s voice pipes up, “Hullo Lettice darling! How are you?”

 

“I’m well thank you, Gerald darling. Are you well? How are things down in London in my absence?”

 

The line crackles again as Lettice’s voice is carried down to the capital. “Oh everything’s tickety-boo, darling! The other night, Moaning Minnie,” Gerald continues as he mentions Minnie Palmerston, their mutual friend prone to scenes and histrionics, wife of cool and calm banker Charles Palmerston, by her nickname, acquired because of her propensity to moan about things. “Was accosted by an interloper at the Embassy**************, who was jolly handsy**************** with her, the cad!”

 

“Oh my! Did Charles punch him in the nose?”

 

“No fear!” Gerald laugh echoes down the line as he speaks. “She did the job for him, after she slapped his face and threw her glass of champagne in it. It was the highlight of the night, and caused quite a ruckus. The cheeky blighter was eventually dragged out into the street by his collar by two of the Embassy doormen***************** and told not to come back.”

 

“Oh, jolly good show, Minnie!” Lettice enthuses with a laugh as she sips her champagne.

 

“All the same, even with all the distractions, I’m missing you frightfully, Lettice darling!”

 

“Oh, I miss you too, Gerald darling, and the bright lights of London!” Lettice replies, tightening her grip on the receiver just a little more. “You won’t believe this, but,” She glances around her at the contorting shadows as she speaks. “I’m chatting to you by lamplight.”

 

“Lamplight?” comes Gerald’s cracking reply down the line. “Haven’t they heard of electricity in Bedfordshire?”

 

“Rippon Court is powered by a steam-powered generator******************, but it’s rather cumbersome for the servants to operate, so we use lamplight at night, except in the principle rooms we occupy, to conserve energy so the servants don’t have to work it late at night.”

 

“And what is the House of Usher******************* like?”

 

“Oh,” Lettice looks at the trophies glowing cooly around her and the lamplight as it flickers and ghoulishly highlights the hunting pinks******************** of a pack of foxhunters portrayed in oils hanging on the oak panelled wall above the telephone. “Glynes this is not, Gerald darling. I can well see why John and Clemance aren’t fond of it. It’s huge: far too big for my liking, but not impressive. It’s rather inelegant, built in a hotch-potch of styles, having been added to and added to over the centuries by subsequent family members. And it’s a bit tumbledown with it barely ever being occupied,” She shivers and pulls Clemance’s fur a little more tightly around her shoulders. “And it’s freezing.”

 

“Well it is winter, Lettice darling.” Gerald observes. “And you are in an old and ramshackle house in the middle of…”

 

A sudden high pitched squeal, followed by a barrage of male laughter sounds shrilly down the line from London, the noise distorted over the distance, shocking Lettice’s ear as it does.

 

“Are you telephoning me from that theatrical madhouse, Gerald darling?” Lettice asks.

 

“If you mean Hattie’s,” Gerald replies a little peevishly. “The answer is yes. Sorry. Aunt Sally,” he goes on, referring to Shakesperean actor Charles Dunnage using his female nickname*********************. “Wanted us to play Pirandello********************** after supper. It’s been quite a spirited game. My apologies for the noise. I’m in Hattie’s hallway, outside the dining room.”

 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sitting in the glacial entrance hall of Rippon Court, which is the only place this house has a telephone wired.”

 

“Sounds ghastly.” Gerald opines.

 

“Why didn’t you telephone me from Grosvenor Street?” Lettice asks, referring to Gerald’s couture business’ address. It certainly would have been quieter to do so.”

 

“Because it’s late, and I’m not hanging around Grosvenor Street, just for the pleasure of telephoning you. Besides, Grosvenor Street does not offer Hattie’s cooking, nor a warm bed.” Gerald emphasises the last two words meaningfully, implying that he will be staying the night, spending it in the bed of his homosexual lover, West End oboist Cyril, without explicitly stating it***********************. “If you understand me.”

 

“Oh of course!” Lettice says, blushing red in the oil lamp’s illumination as she speaks. “Sorry Gerald darling. I understand.” She falls silent for a moment before adding, “I hope you are going to recompense Miss Milford for the use of her apparatus, Gerald darling. Her bill would be high enough the way that thing gets used in her household by her theatrical lodgers, and this will be costing her a fortune.”

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that Hattie is recompensed properly, Lettice darling.”

 

“Very good.”

 

“So what’s the plumbing like?” Gerald goes on.

 

“Rudimentary.” Lettice answers matter-of-factly as she runs her glove clad fingers over a horse trophy at her right. “There are a couple of plumbed lavatories************************, but for a bath, two of the housemaids have to bring a portable tub to my dressing room, which like everywhere else in this house is draughty and cold, and they then have to then carry hot water up goodness knows how many flights of backstairs from the kitchens, so it’s not particularly hot by the time I receive it.”

 

“And the Prince is staying?” Gerald asks in incredulity. “Surely not!”

 

“No, he’s only participating in the Rippon Hunt and stopping for luncheon, thank goodness!” Lettice sighs. “I’m sure with his preferences for American convenience and luxury, the Dickensian************************* arrangements we are forced to put up with here would not be suitable for His Royal Highness.”

 

“And the food?” Gerald queries.

 

“Mrs. Tabner and her kitchen maid do an admirable job. The food has been plentiful, delicious, and perhaps surprisingly considering the temperatures of Rippon Court, remarkably hot.”

 

“Well, that’s something, at least.” Gerald opines. “And what of the other situation.”

 

“Your telegram, which arrived the evening we arrived, said that there was nothing to report from the Pinkerton agency, so I didn’t reply.”

 

“No,” Gerald hisses down the telephone, his voice cracking as he speaks. “I didn’t mean that. And no, nothing new from the Pinkertons, so nothing needs addressing via this telephone call. Your situation with Sir John, is what I was referring to!”

 

“Oh that!” Lettice picks up her champagne flute, takes a larger than ladylike gulp and sighs. “It’s hard, Gerald darling.”

 

“Why hard?” Gerald asks in concern.

 

“I feel so torn.” Lettice gulps, swallowing back as of yet unshed tears. “I’ve learned so much about John in the last few days since we’ve been here. He and Clemance were punished for the very smallest of infractions by their parents.”

 

“Well, weren’t we all?”

 

“Not the way John and Clemance were. I don’t wish to divulge the specifics over the telephone, but they were badly treated, and were subjected to beatings. They were ignored by their parents, or tolerated, I suppose is probably the word for it.” Lettice looks around to make sure that Sir John or Clemance are not hiding in the shadows, having come to fetch her back to the drawing room, fearing she is lost. However, she is quite alone where she sits. “I’m starting to understand why John is the way he is: distant and business like. He’s being protective of his own heart.”

 

“Lettice.” Gerald says warningly down the crackling telephone line from London.

 

“I have pity for him.”

 

“Lettice!” Gerald growls again.

 

“And there have been times when he has actually been quite sweet to me, whilst we’ve been here. Just yesterday, we had a lovely and romantic luncheon in one of the towers here, where he and Clemance used to hide. They call it the Book Tower.” Lettice babbles on, not wanting Gerald to interrupt her. “He even toasted me crumpets with his toasting fork and served them to me, Gerald darling. I’m starting to think that underneath all that bravado and businesslike shell, he actually does care for me.” She snakes her head. “Maybe even more deeply than he cares to admit.”

 

“Lettice!” Gerald snaps again.

 

“And I think I could be happy with him, you know, Gerald darling, especially now I understand why he is so remote and aloof.”

 

“Oh don’t say it, Lettice darling, please!” Gerald implores. “You… you haven’t agreed to a date yet have you?”

 

“Well, no, not yet, but…”

 

“Good!” Gerald cuts Lettice off. “Then don’t.”

 

“He’s wearing me down, Gerald. I really do think I could be happy with him.”

 

“Well,” Gerald sighs down the line from London. “Be that as it may, I need you to stick to the plan we agreed to in London, stay strong and stall. Don’t give him a date yet, no matter how much he, or Mrs. Pontefract try and wear you down. Please Lettice!”

 

“But I thought you didn’t dislike John, Gerald darling.” Lettice mewls.

 

“I don’t.” Gerald replies. “But, I also don’t think settling for this marriage, at least not yet, will do you any good until we know more about what happened with Selwyn and that Kitty Avendale woman. You think you might be happy to settle for a marriage of convenience, and believe me that is what this is, Lettuce Leaf.”

 

“Don’t call me by my dreaded childhood nickname, Gerald Bruiton!” Lettice spots hotly. “You know I don’t like it!” She pouts churlishly.

 

“I’ll call you what I like, Lettuce Leaf, if you continue to act foolishly, such as you are now. Open your eyes and see that this marriage for what it is: an arrangement between two lonely people. I do not doubt that Sir John is fond of you, as you yourself have confided in me, but it is not a love match.”

 

“That time has passed.” Lettice says bitterly, taking another gulp of champagne.

 

“Not necessarily.” Gerad counters. The line falls silent for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of crackling between the two best friends. “Marriages of convenience are all well and good.” Gerald continues at length. “I know of several, and the couples are very happy in their arrangements,” He sighs heavily. “However, a marriage of convenience, even one based on mutual admiration and a certain fondness, is a poor cousin to a love match.”

 

Lettice begins to sob down the telephone.

 

“It would be a tragedy to go into this marriage without first establishing whether Lady Zinnia had her hand in splitting you and Selwyn apart and orchestrating her own marriage of convenience for her son.”

 

“You think John was involved, don’t you?” Lettice asks in an accusing tone, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “You think he had something to do with all this.”

 

Gerald doesn’t answer at first, but when he does, his answer surprises Lettice. “Actually, I’m in agreement with you, Lettice darling. I don’t think he had anything to do with it.”

 

“You don’t?” Lettice manages to ask in amazement.

 

“Things just happen by coincidence sometimes, and that’s what I think has happened here. I don’t think Sir John had any inkling as to whatever it is that Lady Zinnia has planned. Lady Zinnia is far too calculating to share her ideas with anyone outside her most trusted circle of companions. I feel that Sir John made you a proposal without knowing, or perhaps even thinking, that you would accept, just to put his hat in the ring. I know he admires you, Lettice. Forwarding your career and giving you comfort and stability might be his way of showing his admiration for you.” He sighs heavily again. “I just wat us to get to the bottom of who is behind all this, and why, and to find out the truth.”

 

“But what…” Lettice snivels, as she dabs her eyes with a dainty lace trimmed handkerchief . “What if we find that Selwyn really is happily married to this Kitty Avendale?” Lettice gulps. “What if the Pinkerton agency tell us the worst possible news? What then?”

 

“Then at least you can go into your marriage with Sir John, knowing that you are fully appraised of all the facts.”

 

Lettice can suddenly hear Cyril’s voice clearly in the background, calling for Gerald to join him, Harriet and the others in the dining room.

 

“Look, I have to go.” Gerald says. “And as you’ve intimated, this telephone call has cost Harriet… me… a fortune. Please, just do as I said in my telegram. Stay strong, and don’t give in until we know more. Please Lettice darling!”

 

Lettice sniffs and smiles a teary smile, even though she knows that her best and oldest childhood chum can’t see her. “I’ll try.”

 

“No,” Gerald replies warningly. “You must do more than try. You must hold firmly on this. Now, when does the Prince arrive?”

 

“In a few days.”

 

“Then throw yourself into all that surrounds the visit and let it distract you. Now, I must go. Goodbye Lettice darling! I love you.”

 

“Love you too.” Lettice murmurs down the receiver before the line suddenly goes dead.

 

Lettice replaces the mouthpiece back atop the sparkling metal cradle, where it releases a single echoing ting that seems more forlorn by the darkness and emptiness of her surroundings. Lettice sits on the stool for a while longer, sobbing, dabbing her eyes and trying to regulate her shuddering breaths before returning to her companions in the Rippon Court drawing room. She doesn’t know quite how long she has been there for when a familiar voice penetrates the shadows and her consciousness.

 

“Lettice?” Sir John calls with concern. “Lettice are you quite alright? Clemmie and I have been worried. You’ve been gone so long.”

 

His tall and noble form suddenly appears out of the shadows, stepping into the light, highlighting the smart cut of his Jermyn Street************************** tailored set of tails. His face, cast half in shadow, looks so much older than it does during the day, with every wrinkle on his brow, down around his mouth and under his eyes standing out dramatically. Then again, Lettice considers, perhaps it is the look of concern etched on his face that makes him look every minute of his age.

 

“Lettice, you’ve been crying.”

 

“Oh no.” Lettice manages to mutter with a blocked nose dulling her usually elegantly elocuted tones. “Just a little, John.”

 

Sir John strides up to his fiancée and stands over her, holding out his hands to her and looking down upon her with genuine concern. “Whatever is the matter? Did Gerald say something to upset you?”

 

“No! No, John!” Lettice assures Sir John. “He didn’t upset me at all.”

 

“Well, something obviously has, Lettice my dear.” he says kindly, his look encouraging her to take his hands, which she finally accepts with a sniff and a deep sigh. “It’s this wedding frock business with your mother, isn’t it?” he asks. “She doesn’t want Gerald Bruton to dress you for the occasion, but you do. Is that it?”

 

Lettice sees his reasoning like a light at the end of a long and dark tunnel, allowing her to escape having to tell Sir John the truth about her reason for being upset. Rather than speaking, she simply nods shallowly.

 

“I keep telling you, Lettice. I’d be just as happy to marry you in a registry office***************************, like everyone did during the war, with you wearing that rather fetching powder blue ensemble of yours with your fox fur stole instead of a bloody white frock that causes you to cry.” He trembles with a mixture of frustration and unhappiness as he shakes his head. His eyes glint darkly in the light of the oil lamps. “We still can you know.”

 

“What?” Lettice snuffles.

 

“Get married at a registry office. We can have Clemmie and Gerald as witnesses if you like, and to hell with the rest of them.”

 

“Oh, John darling! You can’t mean that!” Lettice exclaims.

 

“If a wedding frock is going to cause you this much pain, then yes, I do mean it, Lettice. You could be standing next to me in anything, and I would be perfectly happy. I can’t abide all this fuss your mother is making over wedding plans,” Sir John lets out a heavy sigh before turning and looking down the dark, shadowy hallway over his shoulder before continuing. “And if I’m being truthful, I don’t think Clemmie is much better than Sadie. I know this will only affirm in your eyes that I’m a crochety old man, and a businessman set in my ways at that, but my patience for all this wedding nonsense is wearing thin. Don’t do it for them. Let’s just go.”

 

“But I want to get married properly, John, and that includes in a wedding frock of my choice. You said yourself that I will wear Mater down eventually when it comes to who is designing my frock.” She smiles as a thought suddenly dawns in her mind. “It just might take a little more time than planned, before we set a date.”

 

Sir John sighs with exasperation and throws his hands in the air. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Lettice my dear, but have it your own way.”

 

Lettice dabs her eyes again. “Come on, John. Let’s go back and join Clemance in the drawing room.”

 

Sir John proffers his arm to Lettice, who entwins hers with his as she accepts, and slowly they begin to wend their way down the shadowy corridor.

 

*Baronial style, primarily Scottish Baronial, is a Nineteenth Century Gothic Revival architectural style mimicking medieval Scottish castles, featuring crow-stepped gables, conical towers (tourelles/witches\' hats), battlements, and turrets, creating a romantic, fortified look with asymmetrical plans and heavy stonework, heavily popularized by Sir Walter Scott\'s Abbotsford. It blends Scottish vernacular with French and Gothic elements, evolving from fortified tower houses into grand country homes and public buildings.

 

**Drinks after dinner are most commonly called digestifs, French for "digestive," as they are traditionally believed to aid digestion and conclude a meal, often being stronger spirits like brandy, cognac, or liqueurs, though non-alcoholic coffee also serves this role, sometimes called a pousse-café.

 

***The original Knole Settee (also known as the Knole Sofa) is a couch chair that was made in the 17th century, probably around 1640. It is housed at Knole in Kent, a house owned by the Sackville-West family since 1605 but now in the care of the National Trust. It was originally used not as a comfortable sofa but as a formal throne-like seat on which an aristocrat or monarch would have sat to receive visitors. It was wide enough that a monarch and consort could be seated side by side. As of 2021, it is kept at Knole House in a transparent case.

 

****A vestibule is a small entry hall or waiting area just inside the main door of a building, acting as a transition space from outside to inside, reducing heat loss, and providing room for the divestment and potential storage of outdoor coats and shoes.

 

*****Bloodsports are sports or entertainment involving bloodshed, pain, and suffering, typically between animals or humans, like cockfighting, dog fighting, bullfighting, and often including certain types of hunting (like fox hunting or hare coursing) where killing or severe harm is integral to the "sport". These activities are often illegal and controversial today, focusing on violent combat for gambling or amusement, rather than traditional, regulated field sports like normal hunting or fishing. However, in the Victorian and Edwardian eras, fox hunting, grouse shooting and hare coursing were not only commonplace amongst the aristocracy, but a standard part of the London Season, with wealthy families decamping London and retreating to country estates before Christmas to pursue the hunting season and the county balls that went with them throughout January and February.

 

******A garderobe is an archaic term that was used in medieval times for a room where clothes were stored, and in more modern times referred to a large armoire or wardrobe.

  

*******Mr. Charles Ireland was born in the Bedfordshire town of Toddington who had made money through property dealing. He bought Toddington Park (also known as Park House) in 1921 upon the death of its previous owner Colonial Mercer. In 1930 Charles Ireland was made bankrupt as a result of the Great Depression.

 

********Toddington Park (also known as Park House) is an elegant Georgian house that was built in 1824 by the Cooper family as a replacement for the old Manor House. With later Nineteenth Century alterations and additions made, its features include colour-washed stucco, a hipped slate roof with an eaves cornice, a first floor band and two canted bays.

 

*********In the 1920s, a Master of the Hunt was the individual with ultimate authority over the management and conduct of a fox hunting club and its activities. The role involved significant financial and organisational responsibility.

 

**********Noblesse oblige (French for "nobility obliges") is the concept that people of high rank, wealth, or privilege have a moral duty to act honourably, generously, and responsibly towards those with less advantage, using their position to benefit society rather than just themselves. It signifies that privilege entails responsibility, requiring the influential to demonstrate good conduct, protect the vulnerable, and contribute to the common good, often through philanthropy or setting a positive example.

 

***********A country squire is a wealthy landowner in England, influential in local governance and community, often a Justice of the Peace or Lord of the Manor, just below the rank of knight.

 

************Hullabaloo likely comes from an Eighteenth Century rhyming compound, combining the shouting interjection "hallo" (or "hollo") with the Scottish word "baloo," a lullaby sound, creating a nonsensical but descriptive term for a noisy uproar or commotion, first appearing in print around the 1760s. Some theories link it to older folk traditions or even Hindi/Persian roots, but the "hallo plus baloo" origin is the most widely accepted.

 

*************Galoshes are waterproof, rubber overshoes worn over regular shoes to protect them from getting wet, muddy, or snowy, commonly seen in slip-on or buckle-front styles. They\'re a classic form of protective footwear, sometimes called "rubbers," that helps keep shoes and feet dry in inclement weather, though the term is considered somewhat old-fashioned now, often replaced by "rain boots" or "Wellingtons".

 

**************Believed to date from British colonial rule in India, and related to the Hindi expression “tickee babu”, meaning something like “everything\'s alright, sir”, “tickety-boo” means “everything is fine”. It was a common slang phrase that was popular in the 1920s.

 

***************The Embassy Club – fondly referred to by the Prince of Wales as “the Buckingham Palace of nightclubs” – was considered one of the first and best nightclubs in London\'s West End. Located on Old Bond Street, it was the place to be and be seen in, in the 1920s and 1930s: the spot where London\'s Bright Young Things would gather in their finest evening dress and jewels to dance, drink, and overindulge in legal and extralegal activities. With its seven-piece band and cabaret, the Embassy Club was full to capacity nearly every night – and of course, the Prince of Wales’ frequent visits to the club were an additional draw for women who wanted to “dance with a man who’d danced with a girl who’d danced with the Prince of Wales.”⠀

 

****************To be handsy means someone has a tendency to touch people with the hands, especially in an inappropriate or sexual way.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

 

*****************Nightclubs in London during the 1920s had security personnel performing the functions of modern-day bouncers, often referred to as "doormen". Their primary role was to control access, collect entrance fees, and prevent law enforcement from entering the illegal establishments, as much of their activity (particularly the sale of alcohol after ten at night) was illicit.

 

******************While the Victorian era saw pioneering use of private electricity generation in English country mansions (most famously with hydroelectricity at Cragside), it was common for country houses in the 1920s to use steam-powered generators. By the 1920s, private generating plants using steam or water power were a well-established feature in large, remote country estates in England, as the public electricity grid was still in development and often did not reach rural areas until much later.

 

*******************The House of Usher refers to the central setting and family in Edgar Allan Poe\'s classic 1839 Gothic short story, "The Fall of the House of Usher," a tale of madness, decay, and premature burial. Both the house and the family are presented as decaying entities, intertwined with a hereditary curse, culminating in the literal and metaphorical collapse of the structure and the Usher lineage as the house splits in two at the end of the story after its inhabitants, siblings Roderick and Madeline Usher die, unravelling of the Usher family line, which ends with Madeline\'s premature burial and Roderick\'s subsequent demise.

 

********************Bright red coats known as “hunting pinks” were traditionally worn by English gentlemen hunting on horseback. The name implies that they should be pink, but it is alleged the frock coat was named for English tailor Thomas Pinque (Pink).

 

*********************Historically, queer slang emerged as a way for queer people to communicate discreetly, forming a sense of community and shared identity. Using female names or terms could be a way to signal belonging within this coded language. It was also used for protection, allowing homosexual men to talk about one another discreetly in public without the implication of homosexuality and the repercussions that came with it as a criminal act.

 

**********************Charades is a popular party game where players silently act out words or phrases (like movie titles, book titles, or common sayings) using only gestures and body language, while their teammates guess the answer within a time limit, without any speaking allowed. It\'s a game of pantomime and interpretation, relying on established hand signals and creative acting to convey meaning, often involving syllables or parts of the phrase before the whole. A version called Pirandello appeared in the 1920s, where the audience had to guess a personality being acted out rather than a title, was played regularly in sophisticated social groups. Pirandello developed in artistic and literary Chelsea and Bloomsbury.

 

***********************Prior to 1967 with the introduction of the Sexual Offences Act which decriminalised private homosexual acts between men aged over 21, homosexuality in England was illegal, and in the 1920s when this story is set, carried heavy penalties including prison sentences with hard labour. Telephone lines during this era were not secure, and it was well known that telephone exchange operators, particularly country exchange operators where they were often on their own, listened into private conversations, even though it was frowned upon. Gerald’s caution about not stating anything explicit about his homosexuality would have been a practical precaution against gossip and implication that carried penalties. The law against homosexuality was not changed for Scotland until 1980, or for Northern Ireland until 1982.

 

************************The term lavatory was a widely used and "upper-class" term for the facility. The terms WC, an abbreviation for "water closet", and "loo", which came into use around this time (the earliest Oxford English Dictionary citation being 1922) were acceptable across different social strata. The term "toilet" itself was often considered "non-U" (not upper-class) and associated with the aspiring middle class during this period. The American term "bathroom" started to emerge in the U.S. in the 1920s but was a source of confusion for British travellers at the time.

 

*************************The word "Dickensian" was first used in print on March the 19th, 1881, in The Athenaeum, a British literary and arts journal. This usage occurred over a decade after the author Charles Dickens\'s death in 1870. The term was coined to describe conditions, characters, or scenes reminiscent of his novels, typically referring to poor social or bleak economic conditions and inequality.

 

**************************Jermyn Street is a one-way street in the St James\'s area of the City of Westminster in London. It is to the south of, parallel, and adjacent to Piccadilly. Jermyn Street is known as a street for high end gentlemen\'s clothing retailers and bespoke tailors in the West End.

 

*************************** Marrying in a registry office in the United Kingdom became an option with the Marriage Act of 1836, which came into effect on June 30, 1837. This act allowed for non-religious civil marriages to be held in register offices, offering an alternative to traditional church weddings, particularly for those who were not members of the Church of England. Prior to this act, marriages in England and Wales were primarily overseen by the Church of England, even for individuals who were not members. The 1836 Act aimed to provide a more inclusive system, recognizing civil marriage as a valid legal contract and allowing for marriages outside of religious institutions. Getting married in a registry office became particularly popular during the Great War (1914 – 1918) when couples short of time, and desperate to take advantage of the moment would eschew the formalities of a traditional wedding ceremony.

 

Beautiful as they may be, this selection of trophies and telephone sitting in the midst of a grand country house may not be all they seem, for they are in fact made up of miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The black Bakelite and silver telephone is a 1:12 miniature of a model introduced around 1919. It is two centimetres wide and two centimetres high. The receiver can be removed from the cradle, and the curling chord does stretch out.

 

The large and medium sized lidded trophies were made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver salver beneath the larger of the trophies was also made by Warwick Miniatures. The tiny horse comes from my friend Kim (BKHagar *Kim*) and were sent to me last Christmas as a present.

 

The avant-garde Art Nouveau statue in the form of a woman with foliate decoration is a hand made sterling silver artisan miniature, made by an unknown American artisan.

 

Lettice’s glass of champagne is made of real spun glass and is an artisan miniature made by Karen ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom.

 

The painting of the hunt in the background in its gilded frame, I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House shop in the United Kingdom.

Shasta daisy from my garden.

 

Way back in June I was mucking about on the iPaddle (as one does) playing with the distortion filters in Affinity. I probably should have been doing something more constructive but, hey-ho, life is too short.

 

So this is a set based around a flower pic. I chose it as a starting point because it’s a high-contrast image with oodles of radial symmetry, and I thought it would show up the distortion effects. (A slippery deceit of course as I conveniently invented the reasoning for my chaotic creative meandering after the fact - I suggest you never believe the fallacy that I really know what I am doing! :) ).

 

I’ll cover the processing notes for all the variants and replicate the commentary so you only need read it once (if at all, lol).

 

I’ll post a link to the in-camera original in the first comment.

 

Edit 1 - Colour

A plain colour version, then given a harsh gritty feel by duplicating the image and blending back probably with hard light (though I am not entirely sure).

 

Edit 2 - Plain B&W

The colour version converted to B&W. Bilateral blur (an edge-preserving blur which effectively smoothes out the petals. Glow filter … for a bit of glow (though te be honest I think it’s a bit of a misnomer) :)

 

Edit 3 - Twirl

Starting with the plain B&W added twirl in the centre and also a radial blur. Blended the original back to the twirly version with Soft Light.

 

Edit 4 - Shasttered

This used the Diffuse distortion filter (not the Diffuse Light filter) to create the diffusion look. Tweaked that a bit and then took the original B&W version and blended it back with the Subtract mode. This overprinted the diffuse look with an inverted version of the original.

 

I really like this effect - it reminded me of splatter painting in my young days (back in the caves in France ;) ). Or perhaps printing with a flower using black paper and white ink…

 

For Sliders Sunday. I’ll also put the three B&W versions into the 100x challenge as I am rather behind (as life around me doesn’t seem to pause for long enough).

 

Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the images. Happy Sliders Sunday and 100x!

 

[Handheld in daylight.

Raw development and all the subsequent processing done in Affinity Photo.]

riversea supporting the reasoning , robin, bilston, 19oct08

The Iron Aged Verraco, probably from the important hill fort 'Castro of Las Merchanas' is currently situated on the main square of the charming town of Lumbrales in Spain. It does not look ancient. It is called a 'donkey' (Burro de la Barrera), yet looks like a striding bear with flat snout, small ears and the dangling tail of Spanish brown bear size, and not thin or curling as a boar or frilled as a donkey. It has a frown and heavy shoulders. Contrast this stride with the lowered playful front legs of the potential dog pictured below. The verraco is described as a 'pig' in a specialist catalogue and their reasoning will be wise, so watch with an open mind and a hat against the sun. The sculpture is 120 cm and 84 cm high, and from around 2500 years old - maybe less (as far as 2200 ybp), with the granite sculpted using the then new iron tools. From an important Spanish mosaic of Celtic peoples known as the Vettóns.

A carrion crow from a walk today. I like the coal black of the feathers and the steel of that powerful, dagger-like bill.

I believe in a long, prolonged derangement of the senses to attain the unknown. Our pale reasoning hides the infinite from us. ~ Jim Morrison

 

Imagoism Thursday (IT) Dedicated to our friend imago2007

 

Dusit Zoo, Bangkok TH

The November issue of my Question Mark asks, "Can we bring thinking (and tolerance) back into vogue?"

 

Sometimes it seems as if thinking is no longer fashionable here in the USA, as political discourse often shows little sign of reasoning, logic or the consideration of evidence. Many citizens on the Left and the Right are all too willing to embrace staunch positions on complex issues without considering the merits of these stances.

 

Continued at questioning.org/Nov2023/vogue.html

It's that time of the year when it can be difficult to keep those pesky election banners from intruding into your autumn photos, but this one was different. In October of 1995 while visiting the Canadian Pacific lines in Quebec, a rare referendum vote to separate Quebec from the rest of Canada to become their own country was fast approaching. Being from the United States almost everyone we came across either wanted our opinion or was more than willing to express theirs! Just a glance at the New York registration could easily draw a crowd of locals that would normally completely ignore us! News in Canada rarely ever makes it south of the border, so we unknowingly stumble upon this battle of locals. I heard more reasoning of why "yes" and why, "no" for the vote that you could possibly imagine. Even the railroaders. Not once was hockey spoke of during the whole visit! At St. Pie I included one of thousands of "no/yes" banners that I'd see. Polling was on October, 30th. I'm sure you all know the outcome, because Quebec is still a province of Canada in 2018 however, it was one of the closest votes in democracy history with the "No" vote winning by a mere 54, 288 votes out of 5,087,009 caste with a 93.52% turnout. Now those are some crazy numbers!

Truth Unveiled by Time is a marble sculpture by Italian artist Gian Lorenzo Bernini, one of the foremost sculptors of the Italian Baroque. Executed between 1645 and 1652, Bernini intended to show Truth allegorically as a naked young woman being unveiled by a figure of Time above her, but the figure of Time was never executed.

Upon his election to the papacy in 1623, Maffeo Vincenzo Barberini took the name Pope Urban VIII and appointed Bernini as the principal artist for the papal court in Rome. According to Bernini's biographer Baldinucci, Maffeo had 'scarcely ascended the sacred throne' when he summoned Bernini and told him:

"It is your great fortune to see Cardinal Maffeo Barberini Pope, but our fortune is far greater in that Cavalier Bernini lives during our pontificate."

Bernini enjoyed great success during his time as the principal artist for the papal court but, after Urban's death in 1644, he was removed by the incoming pope, Innocent X. The new pope had more conservative tastes and favored Bernini's rival Algardi. Despite the fall from favor this did not stop Bernini from occasionally working for the new pope - One of his most famous works, the Fountain of the Four Rivers, was one of the projects done for Innocent. He still maintained his position as the architect of St. Peter's despite his removal from the papal court and, after Innocent's death in 1655, was immediately given two major commissions at St. Peter's: decorating the Cathedra Petri and building a colonnade round the piazza.

Bernini's rationale for creating Truth Unveiled by Time was, according to his son Domenico, as a sculptural retort to attacks from opponents criticizing his failed project to build two towers onto the front of St. Peter's Basilica. While this is certainly plausible, historians are unsure of the validity of Domenico's claims relating to his father's reasoning. Cracks had appeared in the facade due to the inability of the foundations to support the towers and Bernini's architectural expansion received the blame. What many fail to mention is that most of the blame lies with Carlo Maderno, the previous architect who built weak foundations for the monumental task being requested, and Pope Urban VIII, who kept pressuring Bernini for heavier, more elaborate bell towers.

During the difficult time after Urban's death, Bernini was able to find peace and serenity in his overwhelming confidence that one day he would be vindicated. So strong was this conviction that he created Truth Unveiled by Time to express this confidence in his eventual vindication. Despite this conviction, the sculpture of Father Time was never begun and the project remained incomplete. It has been suggested by historian Franco Mormando that Bernini's return to public favor after Innocent's death might have made the sculptural piece lose the emotional urgency it had previously possessed, which would make sense considering he had been reinstated to his previous place in the upper echelons of society.

-- author unknown

 

not that i would agree, but i think the reasoning is funny.

Photo taken in the West Norway Museum of Decorative Art park, Bergen, Norway.

 

Throughout history, no other flower has been mentioned more than the rose, and for good reasoning. The rose has been mentioned in music, mythological stories, as an icon in movies, transformed into perfumes, and been sought as the go-to flower of love. Roses grow wild from the mountains of Norway, to as far south as Mexico. Roses were in such high demand during the 17th century, that royalty considered roses or rose water as legal tender, and were often used as barter and for payments. Today, now raised agriculturally for profit, the rose is the most popular selling flower nationally, and possibly globally.

 

www.roseshire.com/blogs/outsidethebox/15331185-ill-trade-...

Season of Tilt

Week 18, Saturday

 

In nature life has no moral. There is no good or bad, and in every moment countless beings give birth, languish and die without reason. Sometimes the possibilities of life are eaten by others even before they get a change to take their first steps. The cycle of life is very much characterized by the suffering. If you are a religious type you probably think suffering is some way sanctified by moral order given from God - and everything goes towards good no matter how contradictory it might seem. If your reasoning follows scientific discourse you probably believe in 'order of nature' or increasing diversity catalyzed by the natural selection as explained by modern evolutionary synthesis. Either way, the tragic thing is that the suffering has no demonstrable meaning. With God, meaning of suffering lies whatever one happens to believe at the time and within evolution theory suffering has no function either - even if dying has a fundamental meaning for natural selection to work. It seems that in intellectual and spiritual way it is very difficult to accept that suffering doesn't have any meaning and it cannot be morally explained by either religion or science. But it can have an aesthetic meanings for us: it's only when we find ourselves suffering we touch the essence of life as it is and has been millions of years for most of beings in nature. Only then can we come to understand what it means to be one of them - suffering is the only shared experience for all living things and therefore it forms the essence of existence from which the respect for life can be build. To be alive is to suffer.

 

---

 

Using Lensbaby optics has definitely been a very interesting adventure. Being manual focus, having an option to tilt the lens and having several optics with different distinctive characteristics has surely been a trail off the beaten path. What I like to say is that Lensbaby consciously offers something different from 'industry standard' of photography today: readymade program modes, autofocus, sharp lenses, intelligent metering, digital sensor and other 'taken for granted things' which makes it possible to take better and better pictures. In short, it's a bit of a different philosophy and breaking conventions is always a somewhat controversial move. It would be tempting to describe these differences between Lensbaby and other conventional approaches in a hierarchical manner, placing Lensbaby above and for experienced users only. But I don't want to do that, because it would intellectually a dishonest move. Instead I would like to say that Lensbaby is a different approach to photography and a tool for different job. Sometimes best tool for the job is the DSLT with fast AF-lenses. Sometimes it's Lensbaby. Sometimes it's a pinhole camera. Sometimes it's camera in your mobile phone. There is no best or worst because of diversity, but I have to give credit to Lensbaby that after using their optics I've come to realize that there is loads of possibilities beyond 'the industry standard'. There are aesthetic possibilities beyond 'the standard look' and there are different philosophies of photography at play. This has got to be one my best realization with Lensbaby optics and I'm glad that I have had actually a chance to realize it.

 

Year of the Alpha – 52 Weeks of Sony Alpha Photography: www.yearofthealpha.com

The reasoning behind the seemingly perpetual 40km/h speed restriction on the goods line seems obvious as C505,506,507 & 509 ease through the curves of the goods line past Canterbury station with 4190 Sandgate - Botany Goods.

“Whenever you are puzzled in a situation and you cannot see how to get out of it, don’t think; just be in a deep non-thinking and allow the inner guide to guide you. In the beginning you will feel afraid, insecure, but soon, when you come every time to the right conclusion, when you come every time to the right door, you will gather courage and you will become trusting. If this trust happens, I call it faith. This really is religious faith – the trust in the inner guide. Reasoning is part of the ego. It is you believing in yourself. The moment you go deep within you, you have come to the very soul of the universe. Your inner guide is part of the divine guidance. When you follow it, you follow the divine; when you follow yourself, you are complicating things, and you don’t know what you are doing. You may think yourself very wise. You are not. Wisdom comes from the heart, it is not of the intellect. Wisdom comes from the innermost depth of your being, it is not of the head. Cut your head off, be headless – and follow the being, whatsoever, wheresoever it leads. Even if it leads into danger, go into danger, because that will be the path for you and your growth. Through that danger you will grow and become mature. Even if the inner guide leads you to death, go into it, because that is going to be the path for you. Follow it, trust it, and move with it.”

 

― Osho, The Book of Secrets: 112 Meditations to Discover the Mystery Within

 

Featuring:

 

Anthemis "Nic Suit"

Comes in 2 piece with a shirt & blazer in many colors to choose for mesh bodies (Jake, Signature & Legacy male bodies)

 

No.Match hair: NO.RETURN. (Blondes pack)

 

[...] Damit sind nur zwei Schlussfolgerungen möglich. Entweder, der Riss ist ein rein räumliches Phänomen, ihm fehlt also die Zeit-Dimension. Oder man muss ihn unabhängig von unserem Raum-Zeit-Gefüge betrachten. Beide Fälle lassen sich mit der M6 zur Verfügung stehenden Physik weder berechnen noch simulieren. Aber es gibt zumindest ein Experiment, mit dem er herausfinden kann, um welche der beiden Alternativen es sich handelt. Im ersten Fall passiert nichts, im zweiten kann alles Mögliche passieren, außer dass nichts passiert. Oder hat er dabei irgendeinen Denkfehler begangen? Etwas Unveränderliches ohne Zeitdimension kann auch ihn nicht verändern, ganz egal, was er tut. Fall eins scheint klar zu sein. Aber der zweite Fall? Was geschieht, wenn er sich außerhalb von Raum und Zeit begibt? Verschwindet er aus diesem Universum? Das hätte schreckliche Konsequenzen, denn es würde Ursache und Wirkung durcheinanderbringen. Oder bleibt eine Kopie von ihm zurück, um die Geschichte nicht durcheinanderzubringen? Das wäre besonderes Pech. Dann würde er glauben, dass nichts passiert ist, also Fall eins eingetreten ist, aber in Wirklichkeit handelte es sich doch um den zweiten Fall. Das ist doch zum Haareraufen! Und welcher seiner Programmierer hat ihm bitte diese Wendung beigebracht! M6 spürt, dass er in die gefährlichen Gefilde der Quanten-Unsicherheiten abzurutschen droht. Er will, in den Begriffen der Quantenphysik, ein Experiment durchführen, dessen Ausgang davon abhängt, ob es einen neutralen Beobachter gibt. Ein Beobachter steht ihm aber nicht zur Verfügung. Jedenfalls noch nicht [...]

 

(Brandon Q. Morris, "Der Riss" - {Sonnensystem 3})

 

***

 

[...] Only two conclusions can be drawn from this. Either, the rift is a purely spatial phenomenon, so it lacks the time dimension. Or you have to look at it independently of our space-time structure. Both cases can neither be calculated nor simulated with the physics available to M6. But there is at least one experiment that he can use to find out which of the two alternatives it is. In the first case nothing happens, in the second anything can happen except nothing happens. Or did he make some mistake in reasoning? Something immutable without a dimension of time cannot change him either, no matter what he does. Case one seems clear. But the second case? What happens when he goes outside of space and time? Does he disappear from this universe? This would have dire consequences, for it would confuse cause and effect. Or does a copy of him stay behind so as not to mess up the story? That would be particularly bad luck. Then he would think that nothing had happened, that case one had occurred, but in fact it was the second case. That's hair-raising! And which of his programmers please taught him this turn! M6 senses he is slipping into the dangerous realms of quantum uncertainty. He wants, in terms of quantum physics, to conduct an experiment whose outcome depends on whether there is a neutral observer. However, an observer is not available to him. At least not yet [...]

 

(Brandon Q. Morris, "The Rift" {Solar System 3})

This is just kind of for fun....I'm rather interested right now when I think what could have caused this circular hole in solid rock. This is up at Glacier National Park out in the middle of rugged outdoors along a lovely, fast moving creek...McDonald Creek. I mean it's so round!! Guess forces of nature can do this but it seems so odd!!! LOL...any and all guesses, theories, reasonings are welcome! LOL...just funning with you all this weekend!! :)

 

Thank you for the info Sheila Hill :)

 

.....the square.

The last of the butterflies...***REALLY NEEDS TO BE SEEN ON BLACK TO SEE THE SQUARE...***

 

Was designed for a small challenge - topic; Square Composition.......So tried to think 'outside the square'..with multiple squares...

 

This is a 'critique/comment from the challenge'. Reading this may make more sense of the reasoning behind the compositon ....

Squares, with a touch of something extra. This is a composition that - to me - demands the square. That the original was rotated into this configuration is irrelevant - it makes for a stronger play on the squareness, providing symmetry in gravity's effect. the ratios between all the square elements are all golden, and the position of the butterfly's eye likewise. What could have been a dull play on geometry is then made artistic through the touch of texture spilling across the boundaries....

 

IMG_5026

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shared third place winner in the LCE 'Square Crop' competition!

 

MOLVA, la fleche

"A new command I give you: Love one another… " — New Testament, John 13:34

 

The original artwork was placed in the 21C Museum Hotel in Lexington, Kentucky. When I saw this piece I thought how amazing that even a religion of love can be perverted with logical reasoning, if we aren't careful, to support hatred to the detriment of ourselves and our children.

 

Artist: Gehard Demetz (Italian)

Title: How You Reacted was Right, 2011

Bronze

Caption next to the statue: "Children are often saddled with the sadness and sins of cultural, social, and familial history... The boy—a child soldier—carries a crucifix like a gun."

 

The photo of this statue, the caption and the interpretation are mine.

Pentax Espio 928 Delta 100 LegacyPro EcoPro 1:1 04/13/2025

Explore #161

 

One song can spark a moment

One flower can wake the dream

One tree can start a forest

One bird can herald spring

 

One smile begins a friendship

One handclasp lifts a soul

One star can guide a ship at sea

One word can frame the goal

 

One vote can change a nation

One sunbeam lights a room

One candle wipes out darkness

One laugh will conquer gloom

  

One step must start each journey

One word must start each prayer

One hope will raise our spirits

One touch can show you care

  

One voice can speak with wisdom

One heart can know what's true

One life can make the difference

You see, it's up to you!!

 

Take care and let us be as one ;) Car xx

  

Today's Carsounds- Bob Marley - One Love

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=8onbDZmAwhE

Today's We're Here! theme is Hot Stuff. I had planned on doing a nudie-selfie type thing, keeping the more delicate areas slightly out of view however, sound reasoning and a good dose of reality prevailed and I quickly realized that I would have to save this idea for the Old Farts in the Buff day. Just so happened though that saganaki was on the menu tonight... opa!

 

201/365 2019

So here's another shot from yesterday!!

 

Intuitive- Using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive

 

I am very good at seeing people for what they really are.... even if it's only talking to them for a few minutes (I don't even need to see them to be able to read them). This is what makes me so good in Human Resources. When I interview people, I can quickly pick up on what type of person they are. Within 5 minutes of talking to someone I can tell if they are going to be a successful employee or if I'm wasting my time.

 

Sadly, with a few people, I tried to not listen to my intuitive side. I tried to give them the extra chances to prove their true motives, feeling and/or intentions. It ended up being pointless and true colors were shown. Shame on me for doubting myself. Lesson Learned =)

 

*** I am so excited for today. After breakfast I am going to explore the county and enjoy the weather. Keep your eye out. Should be pics coming soon ***

"Break those under pressure."

---

The Astraea Type A, developed around ~2032 AD, is an assault rifle based off the now abandoned AR-15 and SCAR platforms. Designed to be as adaptable and reliable as possible, Kurai developed a plethora of accessories to compliment the rifle, some of which can be seen in the current display model, such as the red dot sight and the foregrip.

 

Seeing as how the AR-15 platform was reliable in its time, KTD developed a rifle that would possess that same reliability yet enhance it with the usual skilled craftsmanship that the armaments group possessed.

 

On paper, the Astraea Type A is merely an AR-15 based rifle but the rifle itself is much different, contrary to belief. The internals do not function in any sort of way similarly to that of the AR-15 rifle but instead utilizes a bolt system akin to that of the SCAR. Although not exact to FN's design, there were still some striking similarities.

 

The rifle is internally suppressed, yet still possesses phenomenal range in its class as if the suppressor never existed. There is a gas block but it is never exposed; the block is moved back significantly and is concealed by the RIS. Why this is the case is unknown as no design schematics ever comment on the placement or the reasoning behind this placement.

 

In order to enhance its reliability and effectiveness, the Astraea Type A was designed to be ambidextrous and offered basic implementations in its design to sustain reliability. One such feature is the recoil mitigation system, which works by countering the force of a shot by traveling in the opposite direction. The bolt moves back enough to operate smoothly, but the system absorbs the shock and movement created by the recoil as a result of a transfer of kinetic energy. The energy becomes transferred towards the recoil mitigation system rather than the whole weapon itself.

 

The Astraea Type A has seen use in the battlefield and in urban environments, especially in regions and countries that are facing internal conflict. It has been used in roles outside of its assault rifle configuration; the Astraea can be reconfigured to be a DMR or a CQC viable weapon at any time. The amount of accessories developed for the Astraea made this possible and thus, it is difficult to determine what the weapon actually is.

 

Regardless of its configuration, the Astraea completes its job with high efficiency in the least amount of time possible and it is this result that has made the weapon so well known on the field. The weapon is an example of excellent craftsmanship, as always expected by the Kurai Tactical Division.

 

*Display model is the right handed model. Left handed and ambidextrous receivers are also available

About five years ago, BNSF experimented with a rebuild program in association with Progress Rail. A total of 24 SD70MACs were give brand new electronics and traction motors. Their designation was changed from "SD70MAC" to "SD70MACe". Not sure the reasoning, but it appears those 24 units were the only ones to go through the program. BNSF 9730 is one of the two dozen units to receive the rebuild (and a fresh coat of paint, going from the Heritage 2 scheme to the New Image scheme).

 

©2021 ColoradoRailfan.com

One of these well behaved and lovely brides will be the winner of "Best Sindy Wedding Gown" ever!!

 

Her prize will be a date with this young gentleman, who's anxiously been waiting to be let out of his box... What was that? .... He'd like to stay in there? .. Nonsense!

 

Anyway, to vote you simply write the year you think should win down below. You can add your jurys reasoning if you like. I will in a few days time count the votes and notify the winner..... and let Paul out. Hooray!!

 

I will then also reveal my own favorite.

 

_____________________________________

 

To you who just clicked on this photo. If you go to my stream you'll see all the 15 brides to choose from. Yeah I know, it's a lot, and you can only pick ONE.

   

Edgar Allen Poe House

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Raven

Poe chose a raven as the central symbol in the story because he wanted a "non-reasoning" creature capable of speech. Because of its black plumage, croaking call, and diet of carrion, the raven has long been considered a bird of ill omen and of interest to creators of myths and legends.

 

Poe said the raven is meant to symbolize "Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance". "The Raven" made Edgar Allan Poe a household name almost immediately, and turned Poe into a national celebrity. Hence the National Park Service runs this site in Philly.

 

The Free Library of Philadelphia has on display a taxidermied raven that is reputed to be the very one that Dickens owned and that helped inspire Poe's poem.

I feel I live in a space all to myself. If ever, one day, I become a butterfly, where I live might be seen as a cocoon. I love my house. I find many joy living in it. If I didn't, I would have moved out a long time ago: there is no point reasoning with me! I'm EVERYTHING but reasonable. Actually, I have the passion of what I'm doing, and I hope it shows. That's all that matters to me.

YES; this is all I truly want from the gift set “Fame & Fortune” Vanessa Perrin & this is the reasoning behind me pre-ordering her. Knowing me her body will be a donor body and I’ll add her clothes to another doll. I’m thinking “Second Skin” Vanessa or “Buxom” Veronique Perrin.

Celebrity 90018 in its Freightliner 60 (1965 - 2025) livery draws to a halt at the colour light gantry guarding Golborne Junction with 4M30 the Saturdays only Grangemouth - Crewe 'liner'.

* I took this three weeks ago and have not uploaded reasoning I would eventually get it in sun ... alas not to be, its a rare bird for me.

* Pole @ 3m.

Rahmen und Bezugsrahmen ...

 

does this work together ... ?

 

color-key but no fake, life is more surprising than all your fantasies ...

 

red curls like blazing flames ...

she's on fire ... she is burning ...

 

See waht Wiki says ...

 

Passion (emotion)

 

"Heat of the moment" redirects here. For other uses, see Heat of the Moment (disambiguation).

 

Frederick Goodall's Passionate Encounter

Part of a series on

Emotions

 

AcceptanceAffectionAmusementAngerAngstAnguishAnnoyanceAnticipationAnxietyApathyArousalAweBoredomConfidenceContemptContentmentCourageCuriosityDepressionDesireDisappointmentDisgustDistrustDoubtEcstasyEmbarrassmentEmpathyEnthusiasmEnvyEuphoriaFaithFearFrustrationGratificationGratitudeGreedGriefGuiltHappinessHatredHopeHorrorHostilityHumiliationInterestJealousyJoyKindnessLonelinessLoveLustNostalgiaOutragePanicPassionPityPleasurePrideRageRegretRejectionRemorseResentmentSadnessSelf-pityShameShockShynessSocial connectionSorrowSufferingSurpriseTrustWonderWorry

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Together.png

Relationships

(Outline)

Types

Activities

Endings

Emotions and feelings

AffinityAttachmentIntimacyJealousyLimerenceLove PlatonicunconditionalPassionSexuality

Practices

Abuse

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Passion (Greek πάσχω "to suffer, to be acted on" and Late Latin (chiefly Christian) passio "passion; suffering" (from Latin pati "to suffer"; participle: passus)) is a feeling of intense enthusiasm towards or compelling desire for someone or something. Passion can range from eager interest in or admiration for an idea, proposal, or cause; to enthusiastic enjoyment of an interest or activity; to strong attraction, excitement, or emotion towards a person. It is particularly used in the context of romance or sexual desire, though it generally implies a deeper or more encompassing emotion than that implied by the term lust.

 

Denis Diderot (1713-1784) describes passions as

"penchants, inclinations, desires and aversions carried to a certain degree of intensity, combined with an indistinct sensation of pleasure or pain, occasioned or accompanied by some irregular movement of the blood and animal spirits, are what we call passions. They can be so strong as to inhibit all practice of personal freedom, a state in which the soul is in some sense rendered passive; whence the name passions. This inclination or so-called disposition of the soul, is born of the opinion we hold that a great good or a great evil is contained in an object which in and of itself arouses passion".

 

Diderot further breaks down pleasure and pain, which he sees as the guiding principles of passion, into four major categories:

 

Pleasures and pains of the senses

Pleasures of the mind or of the imagination

Our perfection or our imperfection of virtues or vices

Pleasures and pains in the happiness or misfortunes of others

Modern pop-psychologies and employers tend to favor and even encourage the expression of a "passion"; previous generations sometimes expressed more nuanced viewpoints.[

 

Emotion

The standard definition for emotion is a "Natural instinctive state of mind deriving from one's circumstances, mood, or relationships with others".

 

Emotion, William James describes emotions as "corporeal reverberations such as surprise, curiosity, rapture, fear, anger, lust, greed and the like." These are all feelings that affect our mental perception. Our body is placed into this latter state, which is caused by one's mental affection. This state gives signals to our body which cause bodily expressions.

 

The philosopher Robert Solomon developed his own theory and definition of emotion. His view is that emotion is not a bodily state, but instead a type of judge. "It is necessary that we choose our emotions, in much the same way that we choose our actions" With regard to the relationship between emotion and our rational will, Solomon believes that people are responsible for their emotions. Emotions are rational and purposive, just as actions are. "We choose an emotion much as we choose a course of action."

 

Recent studies, also traditional studies have placed emotions to be a physiological disturbance. William James takes such consciousness of emotion to be not a choice but a physical occurrence rather than a disturbance. It is an occurrence that happens outside of our control, and our bodies are just affected by these emotions. We produce these actions based on the instinctive state that these feelings lead us towards.

 

This concept of emotion was derived from passion. Emotions were created as a category within passion.

 

Reason

Strong Desire for something: In whatever context, if someone desires for something and that desire has some strong feeling or emotion is defined in terms of passion. Passion has no boundary, being passionate about something which is boundless can be sometimes dangerous, In which person forget about everything and is fully determined towards the particular thing-(Sanyukta)

 

In his wake, Stoics like Epictetus emphasized that "the most important and especially pressing field of study is that which has to do with the stronger emotions...sorrows, lamentations, envies...passions which make it impossible for us even to listen to reason".

 

The Stoic tradition still lay behind Hamlet's plea to "Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core", or Erasmus's lament that "Jupiter has bestowed far more passion than reason – you could calculate the ratio as 24 to one". It was only with the Romantic movement that a valorisation of passion over reason took hold in the Western tradition: "the more Passion there is, the better the Poetry".

 

The recent concerns of emotional intelligence have been to find a synthesis of the two forces—something that "turns the old understanding of the tension between reason and feeling on its head: it is not that we want to do away with emotion and put reason in its place, as Erasmus had it, but instead find the intelligent balance of the two".

 

"Descartes' Error"

Antonio Damasio studied what ensued when something "severed ties between the lower centres of the emotional brain...and the thinking abilities of the neocortex". He found that while "emotions and feelings can cause havoc in the processes of reasoning...the absence of emotion and feeling is no less damaging"; and was led to "the counter-intuitive position that feelings are typically indispensable for rational decisions".

The passions, he concluded, "have a say on how the rest of the brain and cognition go about their business. Their influence is immense...[providing] a frame of reference – as opposed to Descartes' error...the Cartesian idea of a disembodied mind".

 

In marriage

A tension or dialectic between marriage and passion can be traced back in Western society at least as far as the Middle Ages, and the emergence of the cult of courtly love. Denis de Rougemont has argued that 'since its origins in the twelfth century, passionate love was constituted in opposition to marriage'.

Stacey Oliker writes that while "Puritanism prepared the ground for a marital love ideology by prescribing love in marriage", only from the eighteenth century has "romantic love ideology resolved the Puritan antagonism between passion and reason" in a marital context. (Note though that Saint Paul spoke of loving one's wife in Ephesians 5.)

 

Intellectual passions

George Bernard Shaw "insists that there are passions far more exciting than the physical ones...'intellectual passion, mathematical passion, passion for discovery and exploration: the mightiest of all passions'". His contemporary, Sigmund Freud, argued for a continuity (not a contrast) between the two, physical and intellectual, and commended the way "Leonardo had energetically sublimated his sexual passions into the passion for independent scientific research".

 

As a motivation in an occupation

There are different reasons individuals are motivated in an occupation. These may include a passion for the occupation, for a firm, or for an activity. When Canadian managers or professionals score as passionate about their occupation they tend to be less obsessive about their behavior while on their job, resulting in more work being done and more work satisfaction. These same individuals have higher levels of psychological well-being. When people genuinely enjoy their profession and are motivated by their passion, they tend to be more satisfied with their work and more psychologically healthy.[citation needed] When managers or professionals are unsatisfied with their profession they tend to also be dissatisfied with their family relationships and to experience psychological distress.

 

Other reasons people are more satisfied when they are motivated by their passion for their occupation include the effects of intrinsic and external motivations. When Canadian managers or professionals do a job to satisfy others, they tend to have lower levels of satisfaction and psychological health. Also, these same individuals have shown they are motivated by several beliefs and fears concerning other people.

 

Thirdly, though some individuals believe one should not work extreme hours, many prefer it because of how passionate they are about the occupation. On the other hand, this may also put a strain on family relationships and friendships.

The balance of the two is something that is hard to achieve and it is always hard to satisfy both parties.

 

_MG_5889_pt_ck2

Beauty has often overpowered the resolutions of the firm, and the reasonings of the wise, roused the old to sensibility, and subdued the rigorous to softness ~ Samuel Johnson

Wishing everyone a fabulous week...snow forecast here for tomorrow, whatever happened to Spring? Pah! :-(

Far from it's original home of Montreal, AMT 330 charges a rush-hour train over the Charles River drawbridge in north Boston. The Leonard P Zakim Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge, and the Amtrak Downeaster loom in the background. If anyone has any additional information about the reasoning for AMT on MBTA, feel free to drop a comment.

.. for the first time in my life as a photographer, I do not own a Nikon. I still own 2 Canons and now 1 Sony.. but it's very, very hard to give up an old friend.. aaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhh!

 

REASONING: I had 11 camera bags full of equipment (some 30 years old) and decided to cut back to maybe 3 bags. I knew that the biggest number of lenses I had were Canon so I decided to cut back to just Canon. I sent equipment to B&H Photo in NYC.. and I took a Canon 60D in trade (I wanted the articulated viewing screen)..Yes, they sent me a check for the balance.. While on their website I read about the Sony A57.. then looked up some reviews on it.. it also has an articulated back.. yeah, I bought one.. so ok.. 4 camera bags!.. I thank B&H for their patience with me and for helping me through the trauma.

 

~ Have a Joyous Weekend!

Four years of college were spent learning 35mm film photography. I didn't fully embrace the medium as I preferred pixels over silver-halides at the time. Because the subject matter and working-series that I pursued had a more conceptual nature to it I needed the resolution to doctor the files as much as I could to achieve the vision. However so, being in a darkroom setting developing film and creating water-based prints left a lasting-impression. Now with a much clearer understanding of the self and the world around I see a balance of purity, activity and inertia. Analog photography is experiencing a great return which compels many too slow down and drop into the field of pure awareness. After reasoning with a few like-minded shooters and reviewing their work I realized that there is something about film that renders uniquely compared to digital imagery. Feeling into the realization I decided to call-in the Leica M6 Re-Issue before returning to the East. The Leica M6 is an analog rangefinder camera with an integrated light meter. Its predecessor was introduced in 1984. Almost 175,000 units were built in different versions until 2003. Like no other Leica M camera, the Leica M6 is a tool that keeps evoking admiration from photographers around the world.

 

www.Chancenkosigomez.com

www.Instagram.com/nkosiart

Nkosi.artiste@gmail.com

 

ABOUT THE ARTIST

 

Chance Nkosi Gomez known initiated by H.H Swami Jyotirmayanda as Sri Govinda walks an integral yogic path in which photography is the primary creative field of expression. The medium was introduced during sophomore year of high school by educator Dr. Devin Marsh of Robert Morgan Educational Center. Coming into alignment with light, its nature and articulating the camera was the focus during that time. Thereafter while completing a Photographic Technology Degree, the realization of what made an image “striking” came to the foreground of the inner dialogue. These college years brought forth major absorption and reflection as an apprentice to photographer and educator Tony A. Chirinos of Miami Dade College. The process of working towards a singular idea of interest and thus building a series became the heading from here on while the camera aided in cultivating an adherence to the present moment. The viewfinder resembles a doorway to the unified field of consciousness in which line, shape, form, color, value, texture all dissolve. It is here that the yogi is reminded of sat-chit-ananda (the supreme reality as all-pervading; pure consciousness). As of May 2024 Govinda has completed his 300hr yoga teacher training program at Sattva Yoga Academy studying from Master Yogi Anand Mehrotra in Rishikesh, India, Himalayas. This has strengthened his personal Sadhana and allows one to carry and share ancient Vedic Technology leading others in ultimately directing their intellect to bloom into intuition. As awareness and self-realization grows so does the imagery that is all at once divine in the mastery of capturing and controlling light. Over the last seven years he has self-published six photographic books, Follow me i’ll be right behind you (2017), Sonata - Minimal Study (2018), Birds Singing Lies (2018), Rwanda (2019), Where does the body begin? (2019) & Swayam Jyotis (2023). Currently, Govinda is employed at the Leica Store Miami as a camera specialist and starting his journey as a practitioner of yoga ॐ

This is not a new MOC. I mean, just take a look at the dust on it.

 

This ship started out as one of two identical ships. I forget the exact reasoning now, but at some point I decided to make this one all rusty and decrepit. I had planned on using it for my FEZ webcomic, but that has kinda stalled.....

   

This is not actually a military cemetery ... It is family owned and operated ...

Last year on Memorial Day, I featured my father in law, that had served in war time ... This year I thought I would talk a bit about my own father ..

He was drafted, into the service in 1959, to Fort Bragg NC ..

and served to 1965..

He was in the Army, shortly after he and mother married ..

 

This is a week end, to remember those, that did not make it home, as well as those ,that have gone on ..

and for those that served, and are still here, to tell about it ..

I so appreciate you every one ...

No matter the branch of service, every service man/ woman was in there for the same reasoning .. FREEDOM

and that does not come , Free at all .. or to cheap either ...

God's blessings on all those that have served, serving, and may go onto to serve ... You are the UNSUNG Heroes at times,

but in my eyes you are the Heroes, that paved the way ..

I so appreciate you everyone,

Several here on Flickr, have been in the service, and when tick comes to tack, it does not matter the branch, all of you were there for the same reason ... and I appreciate you everyone .. God's blessings to all !

 

In the south, usually before Memorial Day, We here in Tennessee have " Decoration Sunday" the Sunday before Memorial Day ..

When I was smaller, I have known, my family to have this all day, and gather, with kin folks, for a time of fellowshipping, and even dinner on the grounds ....

This grave yard is beautifully adorned, we have had a HUGE storm come thru, minutes ago, I hope all the beautiful flowers are not blown to smithereens!

Have A blessed filled Sunday My Friends ... Cindy 2017...

"My cat never laughs or complains, is always reasoning." Miguel de Unamuno

(Mi gato nunca se ríe o se lamenta, siempre está razonando)

View On Black

 

Between 1954 and 1962, a small car called the Metropolitan was sold to over 100,000 buyers in North America and Britain. Thousands of these strikingly cute automobiles are still on the road today.

 

The Nash Metropolitan possesses an ageless, cuddly quality that has made it a perennial favorite of car lovers and car agnostics alike.

 

As is befitting a car that was so different from the American norm, the story behind the Metropolitan is filled with misconceptions, perhaps the biggest of which is the belief in many quarters that the car was a design penned by England's Austin Motor Company and Nash simply applied its name badge to an American version. Since Austin was known for its fine small cars, starting with the Austin 7, there is basis for that reasoning, but the Metropolitan was an American design and the ultimate result of many years of experimentation by the Nash Motor Corporation.

 

Sources:

www.allpar.com/cars/adopted/nash-metropolitan.html

www.physics.ucsb.edu/~airboy/our_metro.html

  

BTW, Fickr, the Pirates would love to go for a ride on this one.

 

______________

This ARTIST is for HIRE.

Driving down to Port Alfred I saw this little boy in the car in front of us holding his vuvuzela. I loved the wistful almost dreamy look on his face and the way he was holding onto his precious noise-maker. Not a good shot but I just loved the mood.

This is for Monday Photo Challenges and Thursday Retreads challenge which was "Something that is either old, new, borrowed or blue". My reasoning? By now the World Soccer Cup is almost old and I am sure you are all feeling that the vuvuzela is something very old (!), to this little boy it is new, I borrowed his face for this image and the car happened to be blue. Well done me. Go here to see what everyone else did. I love this group

 

www.flickr.com/groups/1091826@N21/

  

And this is also for Geza's special day (I suspect it is his birthday). If you have not been to his site before you have a treat in store. Happy birthday, I think, Geza

www.flickr.com/photos/just_solutions/

29.03.15

 

So as it has been pretty apparent I have not been happy with a lot of my photos lately. And this is no exception. I'm still in a slump, but only because it's caused by myself. The easiest way to put it is that my work feels so weak from where I want it to be. but I know that by pushing myself so hard I know I'll get there. I've gotten to know myself pretty well and what I need to do to get where I want to be.

 

Now the reasoning behind this photo. This is one of my original ideas for this months Concept Collaboration theme "The World of the Others". As soon as this theme was released I immediately thought of it as not the work of the others, but the parts of ourselves that we don't share with others, or even ourselves to some degree. At some point we break, wear down, and it never a good ending when we break.

 

Another thing I do with my photos is have a billion variations. Pushing each on till they break, then bring it back just before the breaking point. One of the variations for this shot was have a little bit of smoke come out of the broken window panes to represent the fact that I'm still working really hard on this project, even if it's not coming out just the way I want it to. But it was still a little to much to I took it out. I really like the amount of blank space, it's simple enough as it is, and tells a full story.

 

p.s. I've become really good at b.s. meanings for photos if you even need help justifying something.

 

How were your weekends, do anything cool, exciting, notable? Give me the details. (this is a chance to live vicariously live a weekend thought you as I no longer have free time)

You ever experience one of those weird dreams? This may have been taken late last summer, I’m not sure, lol. I forgot that I had taken/edited it and I believe the reasoning for this is because I wasn’t initially feeling it — it’s starting to grow on me a bit!

The Byzantine gold glowed hot when I got inside, a divine signal to me that God was mad because I brought my camera inside. However, I reasoned with God, the sign read "No Cameras" in a Cyrillic lettering, a lettering style I do not recognize since the Jesuits trained me in the Romance languages and not these Slavic uncials.

 

Besides, I was inside Saint Michael's Cathedral, and I was holding a camera, and, as the saying goes, when in Rome, shoot interiors of churches in Rome , and when in Kiev, break Eastern Orthodox Ecumenical Councils.

 

While God was busy figuring out my flawless reasoning, I spotted a cloaked HeiroMonk in is post-Matins chanting, moving in a pattern indecipherable by my camera, thus the ghostly visage in this seeming partial transcendence.

 

from my daily photo blog at www.stuckincustoms.com

Apocalypse series recap:

 

The world will never be the same again. America was destroyed by God’s judgment. Indeed, earth-shattering calamity befell America. It was so terrifying that we all trembled.

 

The economy collapsed and violence erupted. Rioting and looting broke out across America. Fires consumed America’s cities; armoured vehicles rolled through the streets. The world was shocked by the violence in New York City. Thousands of fires burned throughout the city, and the National Guard lined its streets.

 

Eventually things calmed down for a short time. Then all of a sudden, from the middle of the country, groups took up arms against the government. While the government was distracted, the Russians attacked. They made their move when America was weak and vulnerable. They launched nuclear missiles and the U.S. went up in flames. Unexpectedly, in one hour, a nuclear holocaust engulfed them. California, New York, and Florida were destroyed in seconds—like Sodom and Gomorrah.

 

The Russians crossed over to Alaska. They came down through Canada—where I am from. They headed south, toward the city of Seattle and toward the eastern United States. They also landed on the beaches. I even heard rumours that Chinese troops were on the ground.

 

The battle in America was fierce. They were fighting for their lives. There was no hope for them. Yet, in the end, they cried out to the God of their fathers. God had compassion on them, and they were able to drive their enemies from the land. America, however, was left in utter ruins. Now, they are weak and impoverished; their cities are heaps of rubble. America is nothing; it is no longer of any significance.

 

Vladimir Putin turned away from America. He then set his face toward Israel for the Battle of Gog and Magog—just as the Bible says: I will turn you around; I will put hooks in your jaws and bring you out with your whole army. Yes indeed, Russia advanced like a storm, like a cloud covering the land. Along with them were Turkey, Iran, Sudan, Libya, and many others. But God sent a great earthquake to shake the land of Israel. He threw them into a panic, and they turned and kill one another. They fell dead on the mountains of Israel, because God executed judgment on Gog and all his hordes with pestilence and bloodshed.

 

The First Seal; a Rider on a White Horse; a great peacemaker; a charismatic politician from Europe stepped onto the scene, saying, “Peace and security.” This man accomplished what his predecessors could not: he negotiated a peace treaty in the Middle East between Israel and the Arabs—just as it is written: he will confirm a covenant with many for one week. So Israel signed the seven year peace deal and started building the Temple. Remember what Jesus said, “I have come in My Father’s name, and you do not receive Me; if another comes in his own name, him you will receive.”

 

Bloodshed, calamity, and death—oh what fun. Wars, famines, and plagues—God’s judgment has come. Then I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and because of the testimony which they had given. Heaven and earth shakes: falling stars and earthquakes—every mountain and island was removed from its place. Then the kings of the earth, the officials and generals, the wealthy and powerful, and everyone, slave and free, hid themselves in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains. “Fall on us!” they yelled to the mountains and to the rocks. “Hide us from the face of the One who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb, because the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?”

 

One-third of the earth was burned up, one-third of the trees were burned up, and all the green grass was burned up. One-third of the sea turned into blood. One-third of all the sea creatures died, and one-third of the ships were destroyed. One-third of the rivers and springs turned into wormwood, and many people died from drinking the water. One-third of the sun, one-third of the moon, and one-third of the stars were struck so that one-third of them turned dark. One-third of the day was without light, and also one-third of the night. Woe! Woe! Woe to the inhabitants of the earth, for the worst is yet to come.

 

The Kings of the East marching out for war; China and its allies causing terror and horror; A two hundred million man army trained for battle; One-third of mankind killed—slaughtered like cattle.

 

Remember that charismatic politician, the one who brokered the peace treaty with Israel three and a half years ago? Well, as you can see, he is the Antichrist. It is true! With one mind they gave their power and authority to the Beast. He was given authority over every tribe, people, language, and nation. Every kind of satanic power, sign, and false wonder was performed to deceive the people, because they had rejected the truth that would save them. Indeed, the Beast was mortally wounded but came back to life, and the whole world was amazed and followed him. They set up an image in honor of the Beast, and life was given to the image. The image was able to talk, and it killed all who did not worship it. And all people were forced to receive a Mark on their right hand or forehead, because no one could buy or sell without the Mark of the Beast. They worshiped the Dragon—that old serpent, who is the devil, Satan—because he had given authority to the Beast. Remember what Jesus said, “When you see the Abomination that causes Desolation (the image of the Beast) standing in the Temple, then those who are in Judea must flee to the mountains!”

 

Horrible, painful sores broke out on those who had the Mark of the Beast and who worshiped his image. Their wickedness caused them even greater calamity. The sea, rivers, and springs became like the blood of a corpse, and everything in them died. “For they have shed the blood of the saints and prophets, and You God have given them blood to drink as they deserve.” The sun scorched people with fire, searing them with intense heat. They blasphemed the name of God, who had power over these plagues, and they did not repent and give Him glory. Darkness fell upon the Beast’s Kingdom, and people gnawed their tongues in agony, yet they still refused to repent of their deeds. Then the great Euphrates River dried up to prepare the way for the Kings of the East, who were marching towards God’s judgment.

 

The nations of the earth prepared for war; world supremacy was on their minds. Flashes of lightning, roars of thunder, and hundred pound hailstones fell from the sky. The worst earthquake in human history shook the world to its core. Every island sunk, every mountain crumbled, and every city collapsed. Then the Beast, and the kings of the earth, and their armies marched out for the Battle of Armageddon. Fire burned before them, and blood, fire, and billows of smoke followed behind them. They surrounded Jerusalem, and the city was captured. The light of the sun and the moon were darkened, and the stars did not shine. When the next day came, the daylight remained darkened. It was a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and blackness. It was a unique day, with no difference between day and night. But mark my words, when evening comes, there will be light!

 

Behold, the Day of the Lord is here! The Great Day of His wrath has come, and who can endure it? Heaven opened, and there came a Rider on a white horse. He is called Faithful and True—the King of kings and Lord of lords. The Beast, and the kings of the earth, and their armies waged war against the Rider on the white horse. But a great panic from the Lord came upon them, and they turned and killed one another. Then a sword came from the mouth of the Rider, and the flesh of His enemies rotted while they stood on their feet—their eyes rotted in their sockets, and their tongues rotted in their mouths. Outside Jerusalem blood flowed for one hundred and eighty miles. As for the Beast, he and his cohort were thrown alive into the Lake of Fire. Now the Lord Jesus Christ rules and reigns on earth. Amen and Amen!

 

A Deep and sincere thank you to our Friend Emma for playing along

 

www.flickr.com/photos/193415394@N05

 

Masquerade Ball

 

2 parts

 

Part 2

“Nancy’s” view Continues

 

A voice quietly said from behind my back.

 

“ Hello, Samantha, fancy meeting you here.”

 

“Raffles!” I blurted with relief, as his hands pull away. I felt his fingers caressing alongside my face, then along through my hair.

 

He stepped back, and I quickly turned around. With a deep sigh of relief, it was really him, my Raffles.

 

“Not playing a game alone, are ye Lass?” He asked me, blue eyes twinkling.

 

“No,” I said shaking my hair.

 

He smiled, pulling his hands from his pockets,

 

I then lectured…” you gave me quite the start sir. “ then I giggled, unable to control my emotions and pleasure of his appearance here in this deserted garden.

 

He placed a finger under my chin, lifting it so I was looking up into his eyes.

 

“Stand still,” he commanded and moved around behind me.

 

“Good thing I didn’t do what first popped into my devious mind..”

  

I felt his knuckle go into my back…

  

”Playing your games. Now Stick ‘ em up miss .”

 

“Good thing you didn’t I would have peed myself... I giggled.

  

“Raffles” chuckled:

“Stay in character miss .”

 

We’re the words I heard from behind me

  

I raised up my hands, imagining like I was actually being held up. My heart began to race again with a feeling of delicious danger as I spoke.

 

“What do you want from me?”

  

Raffles, still holding his knuckle into my back …reached out his other hand with an open palm as he spoke.

 

”Put your hands down, I’ve taken a fancy to that bracelet of yours. So please hand it over. “

 

I shivered, saying smartly. “I don’t believe a real thief would say please …”

 

My friend “Raffles” responded.

 

“Would my real victim ask that? Try a different tack.”

 

Trembling again, with delicious delight. I played along.

 

“No sir, not my bracelet, anything but that …”

 

“That’s better, a bit of heartfelt pleading can never heart.

After a second the hand withdrew.

 

Raffles laughed amiably…

 

“Ok miss, keep your bracelet then. “

 

He chuckled from behind, removing his knuckle….

 

“It was only a thought I had when I saw you out here walking alone, remembering the story of the games you play with your brother, did I do ok?”.

 

“Smashing .” I giggled gleefully “Spot on.”

 

I put my hands down to my sides as Raffles placed a hand on my shoulder and ran it down my satin blouse’s sleeve while he came back around to face me.

  

“All kidding aside, you really shouldn’t be out here alone “Nancy” someone less inviting as me may have been about. And I don’t mean your brother. So let’s see you back safe Lass.”

 

I nodded.

 

He lifted my hand and pulled my back to him.

 

Coddling along against his warm figure, Raffles led me back along the path to the stairway.

 

“I’ll be leaving you here “Nancy” I was on my way home.

 

I looked up into his face. “it was fun meeting you, sorry you have to go. “

 

“So am I Lass.”

 

We embraced in a deep hug.

 

As we broke apart, He ran his fingers up my side, then lifted my hair.

 

He let my hair down, his fingers tingling as he touched along my ears and face as he spoke.

 

“A Very pretty one you are, and don’t ever let anyone say differently.”

 

I shivered with excitement over his praise as, with a clenched fist, he held my chin up, looking deep within my eyes. But he had such a sad look in his eyes.

 

I couldn’t help myself. I practically leaped up against him and tightly squeezed him in my arms.

 

We finally broke apart. He smiled. Looking like he had been relieved of some troubling thought.

 

“Go now, you before I change my mind about playing games.”

 

Letting me go with a chuckle, I turned and went up to the stairs, turning I blew him a kiss.

 

He was still watching, hands in his vest pocket, he pulled them out and caught it..acting like he was putting it inside his vest.

 

“My second this evening.” I heard him say mysteriously…

 

Then turning away, he went off down along the path.

 

I turned and went up the stairs, feeling lighter than I had all evening.

 

I was soon sneaking back onto the upstairs balcony.

 

With a start, I saw the backside of father off in a corner with some of his lads. Smoking a cigar.

 

I hightailed it out back through the entrance before slowing down to a walk.

 

As I made my way back I was still riding on air.

“What a delicious adventure I was having, one I was not expecting at all.”

 

I saw that my mum was back sitting at the table.

 

She did not notice me approaching, her eyes had a distant, far-off look, and she was smiling over something.

 

I gave a cheery hello as I went to my chair, though my heart was pounding.

 

Mum snapped out of her reverie and smiled at me. I could tell she was a bit tipsy from drinking wine all evening.

 

I also noticed with surprise that her neckline was striking bare. She had taken off her pretty necklace. Why? I wondered as mum spoke to me.

  

“Where did you go off to, babe?”

 

“To the loo, I unabashedly lied.” The words came out with surprisingly no hesitation.

 

“Having a good time?” she asked.

 

“Brilliant,” I said, telling no lies.

 

“I’m am having a lovely time also,” she answered an unasked question with a giggle.

 

She went on with a story I could see she was aching to tell someone.

 

“It all started when a rude man ran into me while your father was getting drinks. That wasn’t so nice, but then…”

 

And she looked off rather dreamily, which I thought was rather silly

 

“Honey, then I ran into the most darling young man. All dressed in black. He had seen that man bump into me with no apologizing, so he did so for him, then he asked me to dance. “ she said, blushing rather prettily.

 

“Told me he was dressed as an undertaker didn’t he, that he was there to collect souls. Then he told me the most marvelous stories about what young lads your age would bet on.”

 

“At a wedding?” I asked cautiously, not about to admit that I may have already met him.

 

“No, he talked about being at a cricket match and the older lads betting in on stealing a kiss from a girl.”

 

As she told me this mum was stroking the neckline of her gown, noticeably bare without her pretty necklace. . So WHY had she taken it off I pondered? It had looked so nice sparkling along there.

 

I started to ask about the necklace when an older lady began yelling out from a table across the room

 

“It’s missing! Has anyone here seen my daughter’s diamond bracelet? Cecilia is missing one of hers!” The older lady wailed.

 

I stare at mum, watching horrified by her reaction:

 

Mum’s hand shot to her neck, and I saw the startled look fill her eyes as she realized her sapphire diamond necklace was missing also.

 

“She had not been the one to remove her necklace!” I thought with a stark awareness

 

What sinister activity had been going on here this evening?

  

Remembering the garden game with Raffles I quickly lift my hand studying my wrist. My bracelet was still there. As well as all my rings.

 

I was starting to breath a sigh of relief when mum pulled back my hair, her eyes wide with shock

 

Honey, your earrings are gone. I reach up and feel nothing. My eyes also grow wide. What is going on?

  

By now the whole venue was in an uproar. Apparently, several other ladies were also checking, and some just then noticed the loss of their jewellery. Verbal gasps and mumbling could be heard amongst the tables.

  

Father, still out on the upper floor balcony at the time, heard the commotion.

 

Reacting instinctively, he had the rental security block the exits, nobody was to leave, then called in at his police station for reinforcements

 

He then showed up at our table to see how we were doing.

 

He was shocked and dismayed that we both had apparently fallen victims to the criminal shenanigans played out that evening.

 

He asked mum if she could think of anything out of the ordinary that had happened?

 

She mentioned being bumped by “that” man while waiting by the bar for my father to get his brandy. Neither could say if they remembered seeing mum wearing her necklace after that. Father admitting he had been more focused on meeting up with his cigar and brandy drinking lads that he was on “That prat!”

  

This made me want to believe that it had not been the handsome stranger we had both danced with as the culprit.

 

“And if he had not been the one to take mother’s necklace, then he was probably not responsible for taking the jewels I was missing. And I was not going to hurt my memories of his most welcome attention to me, be tarnished by accusing him without merit.” I told myself.

 

As mum and father were discussing this, my mind was flying. For I knew father, and mum would be asking me if I had had anything odd happen this evening.

 

For one thing, I was not about to admit sneaking off into the road gardens alone.

 

I myself in my heart strongly suspected “Raffles.” He had been too smooth and suave. But I did not have any real evidence. did not have any real evidence. And papa always said circumstantial evidence is no real proof.

 

No, I assured myself, at no time had I felt a prick on my wrist, and itch on my ears, a tug at my throat, nor a twitch anywhere else on my person that would have alerted me to the devious tricks an unknown someone had played upon my “dressed to kill” figure that evening.

 

So I, with all innocence, was able to play dumb at first when my father asked me how I thought my jewels had been lost.

 

Then, realizing that I was to be questioned like the rest when Father’s Detectives showed up.

 

Prompted by father, I gave it some real thought. Then it clicked. I remembered those two twit girls running into me while in the loo.

 

So I told my father that story, as well as his detectives later on. I ruefully admitted to not getting a clear enough look to be able to describe them.

 

And I got away with that story, though my father told me I should have waited and gone into the loo with mum.

 

I never mentioned the meeting with the mysterious handsome male calling himself “Raffles” to anyone.

 

The fact that Mum never said anything about her dance with him, helped me cement any concerns that he may have been the culprit. For I had definitely found a soft spot in my heart for the handsome stranger with the deep soothing voice and easy manner.

 

I have always associated my meeting with “Raffles” from a film line heard years later. later. One lady in satin was telling another lady in velvet that she had known a mutual acquaintance since childhood.

 

“And even back then, whenever he passed by us on the stairs, all the girls would place a hand on their hearts… And their jewels….”

 

I had also felt he was a kindred spirit for the way he asked about the games my brother and I played. He had seemed to enjoy hearing about them.

 

And actually, Father’s detectives never got a clear story from any of the(mostly intoxicated) victims that evening concerning pinpointing when they thought their jewels had been taken.

 

It was then decided that there must have been a small invading gang of male and female thieves who quickly worked the room, targeting our jewels. The real mystery was in their methods.

 

From what I heard the thief(s) made quite a nice haul, not in quantity, but quality. No one was ever caught.

 

Mum seemed more concerned that my earrings had fallen victim to thieves, more so than she was over the loss of her necklace.

 

She accepted the fact that she herself had been a victim. Reasoning that it was the risk a lady always takes when wearing out her good jewels.

 

So we were all shocked by what happened the next day.

 

I had gone right to bed that evening, actually early morning, for it was 2:00 am when I was undressing in my room. I had placed my purse upon my antique vanity.

 

The next morning I discovered the purse on the floor. Assuming that our Golden Retriever, Gypsy’s tail had knocked it over, I picked it up.

 

Looking inside I saw something flickering.

 

Emptying it on the bed I was shocked to see the earrings I thought had been lost!

 

Mum, father, and I all were baffled over what had happened?

 

It was a proper mystery.

 

The earrings and my green velvet purse had to be taken in for evidence. Though no clues were discovered.

 

Which was fine by me. especially since Father Christmas that year brought me my own grown-up set of rhinestone jewellery. And a new dangling sapphire and diamond necklace for mum, that far outshone the one stolen from her that unlucky evening.

 

Later on that month I went to the library to do a bit of Nancy Drew-like sleuthing.

 

I was shocked upon learning whom AJ Raffles had been:

 

A famous cricket player by day, a secret master jewel thief at night!

 

I decided to just let sleeping dogs lay.

 

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Abused & Abandoned Jungle Dogs.

 

Back Story .........................................

 

Guilt has been eating at me even though I know everything

at the monkey temple is running smoothly.

Still it was getting to me. So late last night, like around midnight, I started packing all the necessary gear. Checked it, double checked it, then made a short list.

My eyes opened up and the clock said 4:20AM, ggggeeerrrrr.

Second time they opened it was 5:30AM. Time to go ...............

 

Lit the gas stove, placed a pan of chopped chicken over the flame and proceeded to fix breakfast for The Worm, Boney Boy and Mr WeeNee the Pig Man. Also there's an extra helping for Mamas breakfast. On the counter behind me is separate bags for Tuff Guy, Honey and the two extra puppies that live on The Leroy Crews Turf.

For all the other monkey temple dogs there's a big stash of dry kibble in the bingo room.

 

By 6AM I'm on the road heading in an Easterly direction, a sliver of light had just crested the horizon.

The cold snap we've been experiencing was biting at my flesh even though I have on two t-shirts, a cotton shirt and windbreaker. Felt like my right ear was starting an earache so I pulled over, cut a piece from my paper face mask and stuffed it into my ear, and it worked .

 

First thing I notice when pulling into The Dog Palace is 5 or 6 painters were gathered around a small fire made from leaves and twigs. Dismounted the scooter, squatted down and laid my cold hands on the mufflers heat shield. One of the painters came over and also placed his hands on the shield.

We just looked at each other, smiled and had a big laugh .. ;-)

 

Soon Mama was at my side and full of big excitement ...........

 

After feeding Mama we took off up the stairs towards the roof.

I realized right then and there that this wasn't going to be an easy walk. Right foot was screaming and the weight from the camera on my right wrist made for the same situation.

Picked up a piece of bamboo that was discarded by the painters and used it for a cane. Put the camera back into the blue cotton bag relieving the pain in my wrist.

Once we were on the roof I sent out a sharp whistle across the swamp towards The Nuns Place. Rocky instantly appeared and I started waving my arms while yelling out his name.

 

As you can see in this photo he was really happy to see me .. ;-)

 

Mama and Rocky went nuts chasing and crashing and doing what happy dogs do.

 

Plan A was cancelled and plan B was formulated due to the condition my condition was in. Made my way back to the bingo room and sat in a chair for a spell.

Caught my second wind, gathered up the dog food bags and took off for The Leroy Crews Turf, stopping periodically along the way.

Fed Honey, TG and the 2 puppies while in my best Ting/Lish explained to the head monk and his crew what all the gauze was wrapped around my wrist and foot. Handed him the rabies vaccine card, which is written in Thai and they immediately understood what had happened. Plus I think the nuns had already told them the situation.

Head monk raised his arm and flexed his muscle indicating in Thai, "you tough man" ! I guess that's one way to look at it.

 

Next photo shows a set of cement steps with 3 dogs on them.

I'll explain that one with the photo.

 

Ended up back at the bingo room with Mama where I took a much needed break. While doing so the dog brush came out and Mama received a good brushing, she loves this a lot.

 

By 11AM the gear was packed and I said my good byes .........

 

Stopped at a pharmacy on the way home and purchased a supply of 6 inch wide gauze bandage and 3 inch gauze pads.

 

There's a good reason for this. I knew upon my return from the monkey temple the bandages would be dirty and the only way to correct this is to replace them with new gauze.Simple as that.

Lets back up a little bit here.

Monday I was back at the hospital for more rabies shots and a bandage replacement.... The nurses were not happy with me !

The night before I had pulled the gauze bandages down and ripped the butterfly bandages off. Why you ask ? Simple ....

 

I had refused to let them stitch the wounds up and told them to only use butterfly bandages, then wrap gauze around the wounds.

Before you ask I'll explain my reasoning for the refusal on the stitches.

This local government hospital is famous for making extremely bad mistakes when treating any and all medical problems.

There's a reason why it is so cheep, so I had to make decisions for them.

If, and I say If they stitched the lacerations up and there was any contaminant still in the wounds infection would be eminent. In other words blood infection would show up with a long red stripe going up your arm, not good ! Been there done that !

By using butterfly bandages to pull the lacerations together and if infection started it would surface at the openings and any blood infection could be dealt with much easier.

Alright, getting back the new gauze recently purchased at the pharmacy. Once I've showered new gauze will be applied so when I go back to the hospital for more rabies shots tomorrow the nurses won't be in such a sour mood. There's a means to my madness ..... ;-)~

 

Tomorrow being Thursday and a visit to the local hospital usually takes up a big chunk of the day so there won't be another run out to care fore the dogs.

 

But, Friday I will do another run to feed Mama and all the monkey temple dogs. Once that task is completed I will continue on towards the Cambodian border to see no# 1 wife.

 

Thanks goes out to all of you who continue to send your support. And also for taking the time to leave your comments.

  

Thank You.

Jon&Crew.

 

Please help with your temple dog donations here.

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