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Veteran Suicide, is the topic for today. This is going to be another long one folks. As you read; I don’t want you to think of me. I’d like you to think of your husband, your wife, your partner, your son, daughter, grandson, grand daughter. The 1%, having the courage, to serve and defend our nation. I will be covering events that happened yesterday, and the impact it has on the mental health of our veterans.
Again, this is not about me. Its how veterans are treated at VA facilities, and some of the civilian medical facilities, we are sent to.
I had an appointment, with an ophthalmologist, early the other morning. I have intermediate vision loss in my right eye, and now problems in my left eye. Very similar, to the description from a woman, who’s child was a victim of Electronic Weapons (also know as the Havana Syndrome). She, a US Citizen, a child of a person interviewed, on 60 Minutes; 2-20-22. I’ve had problems with my right eye, for over two years now. Bouncing from VA Hospitals, VA Clinics; trying to find someone that gives a shit.
I get ready, lock up the motorhome and head for Grand Junction, Colorado, VA. I’m only 30 minutes away, and not rushed. VA, is an abbreviation for the Veteran’s Administration. A place where Veterans, are supposed to receive medical care. I pull off the National Forest Road, onto the main highway. Just, as I come over the hill, not a mile from our camp; there’s a State Trooper. Waiting, to try and catch me speeding. This happens, over and over again, when I have an appointment. I look at my speedometer, and slow it down a bit. I also see a guy just up the road. This minion, sets along the road, waiting to see which direction I take. Its another act to let me know I’m being watched. An attempt of intimation, along with a physiological attack on my mental health. Koda and I, head on down the road to Grand Junction.
As we pull into the parking lot, a man quickly cuts us off, and takes the last spot, close to the entrance door. It’s early, and hardly anyone is in the office. Once I check in; the perps start rolling in. Koda and I are setting in the lobby. These perps start with their over the top; hand in pocket skit. Then, some start the hair flipping shit. I’m talking 5 women, coming and going, flipping their hair as far int the air as they can. Even the staff chime in. Yes, folks, Koda and I are in a medical facility. As the women flip their hair, the men stair directly into Koda’s eyes. One even comes over, looking as threatening as possible. Wearing a big billed cap, big dark glasses, and a large black mask. He sets down right beside us, bends down, looks directly into Koda’s eyes. Koda, laying at my feet. The man asked if he could pet Koda, as he looks sternly into his eyes. I said no, he a Service Dog. I then asked if he wouldn’t stare into his eyes. I told him; dogs can take it as threatening. Koda, didn’t, because he’s used to it. Many VA staff, do it all the time. Even a Patient Advocate, that is supposed to help Veterans. This person is supposed to help veterans; having problems with the VA.
I stood up for myself and my dog, so now the minions are really pissed. They send in more Village Idiots, Sociopaths and Narcissist. Displaying their Perp Colors, fake coughs, arms flailing, American Flag Face Masks, large dark glasses, and stupidly big headphones. I’m talking big, big headphones. Not earbuds.
After seeing the doctor, a nurse has Koda and I, set in the hallway. She then, brigs over the guy with the stupid big headphones. She tells him to set right beside Koda, on my left. Even though, there are seats to my right. Koda, is getting uncomfortable, but continues to lay by my side, unmoved. He starts to whine a bit, as he looks up to me. He’s getting very uncomfortable, I see it in his face. The guy is playing something through his headphones that’s irritating Koda, intensely. I can’t hear it, and I’m not hard on hearing. The ‘Stupid Big Headphone Skit’, is used on us quite often. Especially, when we go to a laundry mat. They use something that makes Koda, extremely anxious and irritated. Many, actually smile, while doing so. This was at a civilian ophthalmologist office. I will say, the doctor was more thorough in the hour and a half, we were there; than the VA has, in over 2 years. This doctor ordered lab work, and an ultra sound. A skit; is what I call these, conspired, and practiced acts, of Gang Stalking/Domestic Terrorism.
I’m still waiting on an MRI read, from over two moths ago, that I got at the Phoinex VA. The Neuro-Ophithmoligest, at Barrow Neurological Institute. Spent less time with me, than I did filling out a little paperwork. He was dismissive and short. After, over two years of dealing with my right eye; I had to demand an MRI. I’m still waiting for a video call, so he can give me the MRI results. I have no confidence in a diagnosis or prognosis, from this guy. Their office Gaslighting me, leaving repeat message; that I have an in office appointment Monday, in Phoenix. This appointment is a video conference call, I set up before heading back to Colorado. I confirmed it two weeks ago. This week, and today, as I write this; they call with prerecorded messages and text. Wanting me to confirm, an in office visit for Monday. I’ve called them many times, left messages, and got ghosted.
So, now we are headed to the Grand Junction, VA, to get my lab work done. The front parking lot is full, so we head to the parking garage. We have the minions, trolling around to see where we park. We find a spot in the garage and park. I gather my things, and Koda the Magnificent. I open the car door, someone just behind us, honks their car horn 6 times. This wasn’t an alarm, this was one of the minions, letting everyone know; we are getting out of the car. It’s also a psychological stimuli, that lets you know, you are being watched. We get it, all the time, and have recorded it.
We walk to the back entrance. There are two VA Police Officers, and a man; standing in front of the door, blocking our way. We get through these guys, I use the hand sanitizer. The guy with the tan blazer, says something about my “furry friend.
A few years back I had surgery, one of many. I was living and working in Yosemite National Park. I was using the Fresno, California, VA. My daughter flew out, to help me with recovery, and spend Fathers Day with me. What a daughter…. While I was in the hospital, she would come to visit daily. When I was able to walk, she would walk with me down the halls of this beautiful hospital. These hallways filled with pictures of dedication, loyalty and sacrifice. Past wars, and their participants. She’s holding my arm, I look at her, looking at the pictures. Wondering if she can absorb, the depth of the sacrifice behind them. We get to the end of the hall and turn around. I see a young man in the hallway. Kooks to be early 20s. My daughter looked a little blushed. She looked directly at me and said; “Dad, that guy has been following me, every time I visit”. No Shit, my daughter was being stalked at the VA Hospital. All, the while; VA Police, watch on their many cameras. VA Police, will try to bait, intimidate and watch Targets, like a hawk. Yes, folks, this shit really happens at our VA facilities. You have to ask yourself; Is this how our CIA and FBI, train their Minions? They recruit KIDS, while they are in High School!
I knew better than to stop, and respond to these guys. I headed for the lab, with my ophthalmologist lab request. I went to the window, to check in. There was also supposed to a lab request, from the Phoenix VA. I was told last week, it was in the system; when speaking to one of the traveling vet coordinators. It wasn’t. I was told I had to go to the ER, and get a doctors authorization, for the new request. I didn’t have a problem with that, because; its to make sure and verify, its a legit request. What I have a problem with; is the Grand Junction VA Staff, and other minions, intently in wait, to attack my mental health, bait me, harass me, and set me up.
We go back down, to the ER. As we walk towards the check in window, a guy standing a distance from it, steps up to the window. He’s stalling, Gaslighting about the Mental Health Ward, He’s giving more minions time to show up. They weren’t expecting me to come right in today. This also gave the staff time enough time, to come up with excuses, for why my other lab request, was not in the system. When I was told by phone, it was.
I finally check in, and we have a seat. There are a few people in the area, but not too crowded. As soon as we do, a guy close to us; leans over and looks directly into Koda’s eyes. Koda looks away. The man continues this, with extremely stern looks. I asked him please not to, said it’s a threatening act to a dog. He knows this, but is baiting for a confrontation. The simple fuck, is finally called away, but is replaced by two others. One not wearing a mask. The VA requires a face mask at this facility, and I believe all. Koda, has been uncomfortable since we walked in. He knows where we are, and what to expect. We got the same treatment last Friday. He still lays patiently, at my side. A woman comes in, sets a large purse on a seat across from us. Then, sits on our side across from it. I start receiving a light Electronic Weapons attack. I don’t know if its coming from her purse. As she sets there smiling, her mask pulled down, so I can see.
A nurse calls us up to the front. As Koda and I squeeze through the minions sent to bait and harass us. We walk pass the purse, the woman so intently sat in a chair. Koda stops and sniffs it. Seriously, he does. He gets attacked with Electronic Weapons, and audio stimuli, too. Koda and I work are way through the now, packed waiting area. The nurse has my records in his hand. As we walk towards him; several nurses rush to cut us off. When we do reach him; he tells me, I’m the wrong patient, have a seat. Koda and I look for a clear path back to our seat; another nurse comes up and start Gaslighting about the Mental Health Ward. I stood up for a while, because of setting all morning at two different facilities. There was a man in an electric wheelchair. He asked about Koda, so we stopped and talked with him for a while.
He asked about service dogs. I told him; as far as I know, the VA does not provide Service dogs. There are many civilian groups that help veterans obtain a service dog. Many times, at no, or low cost to the veteran. That’s the norm, for our Veterans. They have to reach out to civilian organizations, to get their required medical needs. That’s because the VA, and our government wont. Why is that Mr President? You continually bring up your sons military service, while veterans are reaching out to civilian agencies, because the VA WON’T fulfill their needs. How long have you been in politic? Why don’t you add another 800 Billion to the Defense Spending; while veterans kill themselves.
I told the man I am, an Advance Certified Animal Care Specialist, and trained Koda myself. He asked to pet Koda, and I let him. Koda, licked his hand softly and gave him his sweetest look. I showed him a few hand signals, I’ve taught him. We were both lost in the gentle actions of Koda. For a moment; we forgot about the crowded clinic. That didn’t last long; because the minions, can’t have it. Rick is enjoying himself; we have to do something about it. Nurse, after nurse strolling by. Clicking pens, fake coughs, flailing arms, and Mental Health Ward Gaslighting. Then, one brings out the American Flag. Yep, they have to throw that in our face. When all else fails, they use the American Flag. It’s folded, and just a Gaslighting Prop. They pulled that one two years ago, after I complained to the Patient Advocate. Koda, and I handle ourselves like pros, because we are. This is a small VA Hospital, with very limited doctor staff. Nurses, think they control the show, Many times they do. Free Speech, is not so Free; in the United States of America. It can cost you dearly.
An hour later, I finally got the Ophthalmologist request in. We headed back up to the lab. We had the minions rushing ahead of us, to the elevator. Koda and I entered, one man had a clear plastic bag. This bag had the exact items, I left on our kitchen counter this morning. This, another act of Gaslighting. It also, lets a Target Know, they are being watched, or someone has entered their home. It’s another Gaslighting Tactic; used to attack the mental health of a Target, to bait and discredit them.
Then, there are two others. Dressed in their Bright Perp Colors. The man, working his way, as close to Koda as possible. We stood to the back, but when the elevator opened, they wanted us to exit first. We didn’t, and I told the two by the door to go ahead. As they did, I could see the man in the tan blazer. He was the same man, with the two VA Police, when we first came in. He was standing just to the right of the elevator door. As Koda and I step to the door, I said wait. That’s his command to stop and wait. Knowing that at almost every corner, entrance or exit; a minion, is waiting. Koda, stops and waits. As we do, the man in the tan blazer, walks pass us. As he does, he reaches into the elevator, open handed, fingers separated, right at Koda face. The two that stepped out ahead of us, standing there, in their perp colors, to witness; if I act out. I didn’t, and neither did Koda. I told the man “He’s a service dog, you don’t do that to someones service dog”. He smiles and says “I was just saying hi”. I didn’t start a confrontation, and we left for the lab. We are in a medical facility, the staff is not educated enough, to not reach out, at a Service Dog? Give me a fucking break….
We go into this small room so I can get my blood drawn. The smell of sanitizer and alcohol, was overwhelming. It irritated Koda, immensely. He still, just lay at my left side. I ran labs at two veterinary facilities, and at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo; in Colorado. I know what labs and exam rooms smell like. This is a tactic used on Targets. They use the sense of smell to harass and Gaslight Targets. They will use sanitizer, alcohol, auto exhaust, second hand smoke, the smell of gasoline and diesel. You can see them in action, at the Grand Junction Walmart, parking lot. It’s on their cameras.
We finished our labs, and head to the parking garage. Ahead of us, rushes someone from the Hospital. He walks upwind, and lights a cigarette. We get in the car and leave, as the minions come out flipping their hair.
We drive across the street to have lunch. It was literally just across the street. It was a long morning, and our day not even half over. We gather our things, go in. As we enter; there are two young guys setting by the window. Probably in their early twenties, they start fake coughing. There’s a woman ahead of us, she stalling, giving other minions time to show up. Koda and I patiently wait. The guy at the counter disappeared. We are used to this. More minions, come marching in. Yep, its a Stupid Fest; sponsored by the Local Village Idiots Association. I finally get my order in, take my cup, get mobbed at the soft drink fountain. The Coke dispenser didn’t work, I mentioned it to the employee that rushed up there ahead of us. She moved the top of the Coke tap, and said try it. I did, as sprays all over Koda and I.
We have a seat, Koda laying at my left fett, minion after minion, walking by; looking directly down at Koda. Not even giving me a glance; just intently, looking into Koda’s eyes. Koda the Magnificent didn’t even flinch. He was looking at dad, waiting for the delicious morsels, he so well deserved. While we ate, someone blocked the view to our car, with an SUV. It was soon surrounded, by vans, trucks, and SUVs. None of them had an electric car, Mr Transportation Secretary. I don’t know where these Bottom Feeders are getting their gas money from? They don’t seem to be working.
We finished our lunch, headed to the door, as a minion rushes to the bathroom, thinking I may have to pee. They will leave piss all over the floor for Koda to step in. Really, they will. Just ask the Walmart employees in Grand Junction, Colorado, or Buckeye, Arizona. We get in the car, someone has moved my rear view mirror, changed my air conditioning settings (it’s going to be 100 today). Both my back windows were down about an inch. Nothing taken, just shit tampered with. This is the norm, for a Targeted Individual, in the United Sates of America.
Koda and I headed to the River Park. They have several fenced, dog play areas. We got there before noon, not to hot for Koda yet. I took him there often, after I first adopted him. For socialization and other training. There are pictures from two years ago, in our photostream.
When we arrived, there was no one in the three open play areas. I’m thinking great, Koda can be a dog! But, I know what’s coming. He’s looking around, a bit confused, its been two years. He finally realized where he was. He starts skipping across the grass, running, happy as can be. It was short lived; the minions start showing up. First, we had a guy brig in a big pit-bull. Thinking I would be intimidated. I’ve worked with military working dogs for years, pit-bulls are sweethearts; compared. Koda wasn’t intimidated either. His tail wagging, panting, happy to make a new friend. NOT, what they expected. Koda, rushes up to the bruit, as do I, covering his back. I started talking, with the young guy who brought him in. Just basic things, he had questions about his dog, I happily gave him suggestions. His wife (Miss Honey-Pot), setting in the car, joins us. Short-shorts, bending and stretching exposing way to much flesh. I didn’t mind, but didn’t drool over it. It’s Basic Gang Stalking 101.
Then comes in the Red Husky. It was followed by a manly-man. Shaved head, muscles bulging everywhere, tight shirt and pants. Koda rushes to greet the Husky, his happy self. The Husky, a young male, seemed a bit taken. Koda and the Pittie rushing at him. The guy who brought it in, came over to the picnic table. The Perp Couple, still there. The Husky had a Service dog vest, so I asked the guy about him. He told me about a local organization, that trains them and gives them to vets.
Then he tried to repeat some of the same conversation, I had with the guy in the electric wheel chair, this morning. He tried hard, but flubbed it. This is called Street Theater. The guy told me he was a vet with PTSD. I’m not going to question that. I could tell the man was troubled. It showed in his eye contact, facial expressions. I could tell anxiety was setting in. I didn’t fault this man. I didn’t judge him. I’m sure so many have. He told me he was a veteran, I could see he was troubled; that was enough. Some people are recruited into Gang Stalking, even veterans. Often, being offered something that can’t achieve for themselves. Unknowing, of the full picture. Mr President; why don’t you help veterans in need of service dogs? This poor guy tried his best, then went and sat in his truck, with his dog. My heart weighing heavy, knowing this struggling man, has been so wrongly misguided.
As Koda is having a blast; a FedEx Semi pulls into the parking lots. He takes up a ton of parking places. Parking, facing the side of my car. So, he can set in his truck, watch me, and my car. Then a big construction truck pulls in. It has a cherry picker. It parked behind us. This is a small, city parking lot.
I get mobbed, followed, blocked and cut off by FedEx, UPS, and USPS drivers, all the time. No shit folks, many people are afraid to discuss it, but IT IS TRUE. Our Government Agencies; have their minions all over the United States. Spying on, baiting and harassing, Targets. They even have your neighbors spying on you. Some call it the Neighborhood Watch, others call it Gang Stalking. It’s Domestic Terrorism! Just look up he definition if you need to. Educate yourselves, please.
Karen came in, as he was leaving the play area. Her job was to throw balls towards the fence. Close to the outer sidewalk. As she did; local sociopaths, waiting for an opportune moment. They would ride by on a bikes, skates; in their colors. Some, carrying floats for the swimming area (too far away). There’s a parking lot, not full at all. Trying everything to try and get Koda to chase and bark after them. All the while, getting their daily needs, of sociopathic fulfillment. It didn’t work that well. Koda was getting to hot and tired to chase anything. They continued trying, in their bright orange and red colors. Their combined intelligence, far lower, than this amazing dog that has blessed my life. But, they will try and take that away from me. Weekly, daily; sometimes. Koda was getting hot, so it was time for us to leave.
We needed to get a few groceries. I wanted to try a local City Market in Fruita, Colorado. It’s only about 12 miles from our camp. The minions in wait; knowing there are a few things I need. Yep, they really do. I’m sure they did an inventory while I was gone. They tamper with my motorhome, all the time. They like to tamper with my frig in the summer, move things around, sometimes destroy small items. They did this in Yosemite National Park too.
As we pull in; they had the Honey-Pot walking pass me. There were minions waiting to mob and block us at the carts; just like Walmart. Once inside, they started setting up. Using their carts, their bodies; to block me from getting ranch dressing, veggies, salad-mix, bread, butter and water. One woman attempting 4 times, thinking I needed more than I did. I was tempted to ask her to hold my phone, as I start a prerecord, loud, extended fart, on it. But, decided against it. A prank I share with my granddaughters. Yes, I’ve been watching too much YouTube.
We get the same community mobbing show, as we do at Walmart. But, with less intensity; piece of cake. I wanted one, as I walked through the bakery. Koda helps pull my heavy cart, with the water and all. We headed to the checkout. Billy-Bob, was waiting to cut in front of us. The young couple ahead of him, were keeping the cashier occupied by their personal life. Long after they paid. They gave another, time to slip in behind us. Sometimes these people will switch things out; from my cart, or the conveyor. As another keeps me occupied, by harassing Koda. This guy didn’t, he just got smothering close. As we leave, we get blocked at the doors, a bid diesel truck; setting up to accelerate just in front of us, as we step out the doors. As we leave; here comes the Hony-Pot again.
You may ask; who is “they”. “They”, are some of the people you work with. “They”, are some of people working in our VA Hospitals, Clinics. “They”, are some of your neighbors. “They”, may be a relative, someone you may consider as a friend. “They”, are some of the police officers, in your community, your state. “They”, are many, in our government agencies.
Mr President, Mr CIA, FBI, and Homeland Security Directors, as you cower in the Halls of our Nation. Like, the Law Enforcement Officers, in the Halls, of the a Uvalde Texas, Grade School. As teachers and children are slaughtered. How many veterans have have ended their lives today? How many have committed suicide while on your watch? How many can be attributed to the horrific treatment, at VA Facilities; from VA Staff. By the retaliation, mobbing, gaslighting, harassment, dismissal; from VA Staff? How long are you going to pretend that Electronic Weapons; are not being used and tested, on us citizens, on US Soil? How long are you going to pretend Gang Stalking is not real? That this is not Domestic Terrorism! You criticize other Nations on their Human Rights Treatment! You can’t even keep your own houses in order! Look at our History!
There are veterans afraid to speak out. I’ve spoken to some of them. I don’t question their courage, one bit. No one should. So, send you minions my way. The Airplanes, Jets and Helicopters. The Village Idiots, Sociopaths, and Narcissist; that do your bidding. Attack my character, discredit me, destroy my life. My mental health is fine, I can take it; I have for 14 years. There are many that can’t!
And, LEAVE MY DAUGHTER AND DOG ALONE.
Like, many would like you to belive; No, I don't belive everyone is out to get me. Just the Bottom Feeders, trying to destroy our democrocy.
I have spoke to many in the medical field. Gaslighting in our medical facilities (not just veteran), is extremely common. Workplace Mobbing, is at all time highs. Employers, are scratching their heads, wondering why; many don’t want to return to work. It’s the Toxic Work Environment, in the United States. Workplace Mobbing, is rewarded in the United States Workplace. Those that are willing to lie, cheat, steal and ride on the backs of others; are the ones being promoted.
The title, The Morning After; is from the following morning of my last post (Contentment). In that post; I wrote the Gunfire ended. I spoke to soon. When I stepped out the next day, putting our solar panels out; the Gunfire started again. When I took Koda out to pee, at 7 am; there was a motorcycle waiting behind the hill. The one in the picture, the right foreground. He comes flying through the dry creek bed, to the left of our motorhome. You see it in the picture. I took it standing 5 foot, to the left of our motorhome. I play fetch with Koda there. In the mornings and some evenings. That's why they do it. The minion on the motorcycle, does a couple loops around the back of the motorhome, too. That day, we had the Loma, Colorado, Village Idiots firing high powered rifles. When we went out to move solar panels, and our morning walk. I solar for 95% of my electrical needs, and move them to get max output. They use the sun, to judge the time of day, and when I will come out. When I took Koda out to pee, for the evening; here comes another motorcycle, doing the same thing. But yes, Mr FBI Director and Local Law Enforcement; its all just a coincidence. As you would like the United States of America, and the world to think.
I need to move in my solar panels folks. Billy-Bob is waiting by the roadside. He wants to see if I bring Koda out, without a leash. Everything I’ve told you is real, and TRUE. Its not based on my feelings; as a VA staff member, tried to tell me today. It’s based on some of the best, military reconnaissance training, in the world. It’s based on 14 years, of documents, videos, pictures and conversations with other Targeted Individual, in the United States. Gang Stalking is real in the United States of America. Don’t let anyone tell you its not, or just a Conspiracy Theory (their normal Scape-Goat). Violence, is not the answer. Neither, is Mobbing someones house, or workplace. Educate yourself, speak out, us online venues, vote. If you look hard enough, you will find the truth. Please do, before it disappears; like so much, in American History. As I tried to upload this, I couldn’t log onto Flickr. Someone had changed my password. I had to reset it. Someone, also locked me out of my VA, online account. This is what happens when you tell the TRUTH, about the United States of America.
All photos and content, in my photostream are free to download, copy, print and share. All I ask; is you keep all copyright and logos on them. And, try and share something with someone in need. Even, if its time.
Thanks for visiting our photostream.
The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin, Ufford, Suffolk
They told her how, upon St. Agnes' Eve,
Young virgins might have visions of delight,
And soft adorings from their loves receive
Upon the honey'd middle of the night,
If ceremonies due they did aright;
As, supperless to bed they must retire,
And couch supine their beauties, lily white;
Nor look behind, nor sideways, but require
Of Heaven with upward eyes for all that they desire.
John Keats, Eve of St Agnes, 1820
Upper Ufford is a pleasant place, and known well enough in Suffolk. Pretty much an extension northwards of Woodbridge and Melton, it is a prosperous community, convenient without being suburban. Ufford Park Hotel is an enjoyable venue in to attend professional courses and conferences, and the former St Audrey's mental hospital grounds across the road are now picturesque with luxury flats and houses. And I am told that the Ufford Park golf course is good, too, for those who like that kind of thing.
But as I say, that Ufford is really just an extension of Melton. In fact, there is another Ufford. It is in the valley below, more than a mile away along narrow lanes and set in deep countryside beside the Deben, sits Lower Ufford. To reach it, you follow ways so rarely used that grass grows up the middle. You pass old Melton church, redundant since the 19th century, but still in use for occasional exhibitions and performances, and once home to the seven sacrament font that is now in the plain 19th century building up in the main village. Eventually, the lane widens, and you come into the single street of a pretty, tiny hamlet, the church tower hidden from you by old cottages and houses. In one direction, the lane to Bromeswell takes you past Lower Ufford's delicious little pub, the White Lion. A stalwart survivor among fast disappearing English country pubs, the beer still comes out of barrels and the bar is like a kitchen. I cannot think that a visit to Ufford should be undertaken without at least a pint there. And, at the other end of the street, set back in a close between cottages, sits the Assumption, its 14th century tower facing the street, a classic Suffolk moment.
The dedication was once that of hundreds of East Anglian churches, transformed to 'St Mary' by the Reformation and centuries of disuse before the 19th century revival, but revived both here and at Haughley near Stowmarket. In late medieval times, it coincided with the height of the harvest, and in those days East Anglia was Our Lady's Dowry, intensely Catholic, intimately Marian.
The Assumption was almost certainly not the original dedication of this church. There was a church here for centuries before the late middle ages, and although there are no traces of any pre-Conquest building, the apse of an early-Norman church has been discovered under the floor of the north side of the chancel. The current chancel has a late Norman doorway, although it has been substantially rebuilt since, and in any case the great glories of Ufford are all 15th century. Perhaps the most dramatic is the porch, one of Suffolk's best, covered in flushwork and intriguing carvings.
Ufford's graveyard is beautiful; wild and ancient. I wandered around for a while, spotting the curious blue crucifix to the east of the church, and reading old gravestones. One, to an early 19th century gardener at Ufford Hall, has his gardening equipment carved at the top. The church is secretive, hidden on all sides by venerable trees, difficult to photograph but lovely anyway. I stopped to look at it from the unfamiliar north-east; the Victorian schoolroom, now a vestry, juts out like a small cottage. I walked back around to the south side, where the gorgeous porch is like a small palace against the body of the church. I knew the church would be open, because it is every day. And then, through the porch, and down into the north aisle, into the cool, dim, creamy light.
On the afternoon of Wednesday, 21st August 1644, Ufford had a famous visitor, a man who entered the church in exactly the same way, a man who recorded the events of that day in his journal. There were several differences between his visit and the one that I was making, one of them crucial; he found the church locked. He was the Commissioner to the Earl of Manchester for the Imposition in the Eastern Association of the Parliamentary Ordinance for the Demolishing of Monuments of Idolatry, and his name was William Dowsing.
Dowsing was a kind of 17th century political commissar, travelling the eastern counties and enforcing government legislation. He was checking that local officials had carried out what they were meant to do, and that they believed in what they were doing. In effect, he was getting them to work and think in the new ways that the central government required. It wasn't really a witch hunt, although God knows such things did exist in abundance at that time. It was more as if an arm of the state extended and worked its fingers into even the tiniest and most remote parishes. Anyone working in the public sector in Britain in the early years of the 21st century will have come across people like Dowsing.
As a part of his job, Dowsing was an iconoclast, charged with ensuring that idolatrous images were excised from the churches of the region. He is a man blamed for a lot. In fact, virtually all the Catholic imagery in English churches had been destroyed by the Anglican reformers almost a hundred years before Dowsing came along. All that survived was that which was difficult to destroy - angels in the roofs, gable crosses, and the like - and that which was inconvenient to replace - primarily, stained glass. Otherwise, in the late 1540s the statues had been burnt, the bench ends smashed, the wallpaintings whitewashed, the roods hauled down and the fonts plastered over. I have lost count of the times I have been told by churchwardens, or read in church guides, that the hatchet job on the bench ends or the font in their church was the work of 'William Dowsing' or 'Oliver Cromwell'. In fact, this destruction was from a century earlier than William Dowsing. Sometimes, I have even been told this at churches which Dowsing demonstrably did not visit.
Dowsing's main targets included stained glass, which the pragmatic Anglican reformers had left alone because of the expense of replacing it, and crosses and angels, and chancel steps. We can deduce from Dowsing's journal which medieval imagery had survived for him to see, and that which had already been hidden - not, I hasten to add, because people wanted to 'save' Catholic images, but rather because this was an expedient way of getting rid of them. So, for example, Dowsing visited three churches during his progress through Suffolk which today have seven sacrament fonts, but Dowsing does not mention a single one of them in his journal; they had all been plastered over long ago.
In fact, Dowsing was not worried so much about medieval survivals. What concerned him more was overturning the reforms put in place by the ritualist Archbishop Laud in the 1630s. Laud had tried to restore the sacramental nature of the Church, primarily by putting the altar back in the chancel and building it up on raised steps. Laud had since been beheaded thanks to puritan popular opinion, but the evidence of his wickedness still filled the parish churches of England. The single order that Dowsing gave during his progress more than any other was that chancel steps should be levelled.
The 21st of August was a hot day, and Dowsing had much work to do. He had already visited the two Trimley churches, as well as Brightwell and Levington, that morning, and he had plans to reach Baylham on the other side of Ipswich before nightfall. Much to his frustration, he was delayed at Ufford for two hours by a dispute between the church wardens over whether or not to allow him access.
The thing was, he had been here before. Eight months earlier, as part of a routine visit, he had destroyed some Catholic images that were in stained glass, and prayer clauses in brass inscriptions, but had trusted the churchwardens to deal with a multitude of other sins, images that were beyond his reach without a ladder, or which would be too time-consuming. This was common practice - after all, the churchwardens of Suffolk were generally equally as puritan as Dowsing. It was assumed that people in such a position were supporters of the New Puritan project, especially in East Anglia. Dowsing rarely revisited churches. But, for some reason, he felt he had to come back here to make sure that his orders had been carried out.
Why was this? In retrospect, we can see that Ufford was one of less than half a dozen churches where the churchwardens were uncooperative. Elsewhere, at hundreds of other churches, the wardens welcomed Dowsing with open arms. And Dowsing only visited churches in the first place if it was thought there might be a problem, parishes with notorious 'scandalous ministers' - which is to say, theological liberals. Richard Lovekin, the Rector of Ufford, had been turned out of his living the previous year, although he survived to return when the Church of England was restored in 1660. But that was in the future. Something about his January visit told Dowsing that he needed to come back to Ufford.
Standing in the nave of the Assumption today, you can still see something that Dowsing saw, something which he must have seen in January, but which he doesn't mention until his second visit, in the entry in his journal for August 21st, which appears to be written in a passion. This is Ufford's most famous treasure, the great 15th century font cover.
It rises, six metres high, magnificent and stately, into the clerestory, enormous in its scale and presence. In all England, only the font cover at Southwold is taller. The cover is telescopic, and crocketting and arcading dances around it like waterfalls and forests. There are tiny niches, filled today with 19th century statues. At the top is a gilt pelican, plucking its breast.
Dowsing describes the font cover as glorious... like a pope's triple crown... but this is just anti-Catholic innuendo. The word glorious in the 17th century meant about the same as the word 'pretentious' means to us now - Dowsing was scoffing. But there was no reason for him to be offended by it. The Anglicans had destroyed all the statues in the niches a century before, and all that remained was the pelican at the top, pecking its breast to feed its chicks. Dowsing would have known that this was a Catholic image of the Sacrifice of the Mass, and would have disapproved. But he did not order the font cover to be destroyed. After all, the rest of the cover was harmless enough, apart from being a waste of good firewood, and the awkwardness of the Ufford churchwardens seems to have put him off following through. He never went back.
Certainly, there can have been no theological reason for the churchwardens to protect their font cover. I like to think that they looked after it simply because they knew it to be beautiful, and that they also knew it had been constructed by ordinary workmen of their parish two hundred years before, under the direction of some European master designer. They protected it because of local pride, and amen to that. The contemporary font beneath is of a type more familiar in Norfolk than Suffolk, with quatrefoils alternating with shields, and heads beneath the bowl.
While the font cover is extraordinary, and of national importance, it is one of just several medieval survivals in the nave of the Assumption. All around it are 15th century benches, with superbly characterful and imaginative images on their ends. The best is the bench with St Margaret and St Catherine on it. This was recently on display at the Victoria and Albert Museum as part of the Gothic exhibition. Other bench end figures include a long haired, haloed woman seated on a throne, which may well be a representation of the Mother of God Enthroned, and another which may be the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven. There is also a praying woman in a butterfly headdress, once one of a pair, and a man wearing what appears to be a bowler hat, although I expect it is a helmet of some kind. His beard is magnificent. There are also a number of finely carved animals.
High up in the chancel arch is an unusual survival, the crocketted rood beam that once supported the crucifix, flanked by the grieving Mary and John, with perhaps a tympanum behind depicting the last judgement. These are now all gone, of course, as is the rood loft that once stood in front of the beam and allowed access to it. But below, the dado of the screen survives, with twelve panels. Figures survive on the south side. They have not worn well. They are six female Saints: St Agnes, St Cecilia, St Agatha, St Faith, St Bridget and, uniquely in England, St Florence. Curiously, the head of this last has been, in recent years, surrounded by stars, in imitation of the later Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. Presumably this was done in a fit of Anglo-catholic enthusiasm about a century ago.
The arrangement is similar to the south side of the screen at Westhall, and it may even be that the artist was the same. While there is no liturgical reason for having the female Saints on one side and, presumably, male Saints on the other, a similar arrangement exists on several Norfolk screens in the Dereham area.
Much of the character of the church today comes from it embracing, in the early years of the 20th century, Anglo-catholicism in full flood. As at Great Ryburgh in Norfolk, patronage ensured that this work was carried out to the very highest specification under the eye of the young Ninian Comper. Comper is an enthusiast's enthusiast, but I think he is at his best on a small scale like here and Ryburgh. His is the extraordinary war memorial window in the south aisle chapel, dedicated to St Leonard. It depicts Christ carrying his cross on the via dolorosa, but he is aided by a soldier in WWI uniform and, behind him, a sailor. The use of blues is very striking, as is the grain on the wood of the cross which, incidentally, can also be seen to the same effect on Comper's reredos at Ryburgh.
Comper's other major window here is on the north side of the nave. This is a depiction of the Annunciation, although it is the figures above which are most extraordinary. They are two of the Ancient Greek sibyls, Erythrea and Cumana, who are associated with the foretelling of Christ. At the top is a stunning Holy Trinity in the East Anglian style. There are angels at the bottom, and all in all this window shows Comper at the height of his powers.
Stepping into the chancel, there is older glass - or, at least, what at first sight appears to be. Certainly, there are some curious roundels which are probably continental 17th century work, ironically from about the same time that Dowsing was here. They were probably acquired by collectors in the 19th century, and installed here by Victorians. The image of a woman seated among goats is curious, as though she might represent the season of spring or be an allegory of fertility, but she is usually identified as St Agnes. It is a pity this roundel has been spoiled by dripping cement or plaster. Another roundel depicts St Sebastian shot with arrows, and a third St Anthony praying to a cross in the desert. However, the images in 'medieval' glass in the east window are entirely modern, though done so well you might not know. A clue, of course, is that the main figures, St Mary Salome with the infants St James and St John on the left, and St Anne with the infant Virgin on the right, are wholly un-East Anglian in style. In fact, they are 19th century copies by Clayton & Bell of images at All Souls College, Oxford, installed here in the 1970s. I also think that the images of heads below may be modern, but the angel below St Anne is 15th century, and obviously East Anglian, as is St Stephen to the north.
High above, the ancient roofs with their sacred monograms are the ones that Dowsing saw, the ones that the 15th century builders gilt and painted to be beautiful to the glory of God - and, of course, to the glory of their patrons. Rich patronage survived the Reformation, and at the west end of the south aisle is the massive memorial to Sir Henry Wood, who died in 1671, eleven years after the end of the Commonwealth. It is monumental, the wreathed ox heads a severely classical motif. Wood, Mortlock tells us, was Treasurer to the Household of Queen Henrietta Maria.
There is so much to see in this wonderful church that, even visiting time and time again, there is always something new to see, or something old to see in a new way. It is, above all, a beautiful space, and although it no longer maintains its high Anglo-catholic worship tradition, it is is still kept in high liturgical style. It is at once a beautiful art object and a hallowed space, an organic touchstone, precious and powerful.
HH Pope Benedict XVI receives Prime Minister Gordon Brown in audience in the Vatican, 19 February 2009.
ukinholysee.fco.gov.uk/resources/en/news/2009/02Feb/09021... Servizio Fotografico, l'Osservatore Romano. For distribution please contact photo@ossrom.va
Lake Jindabyne receives the flow from the Snowy River as well as its tributaries, the Thredbo River and Eucumbene River.
The Jindabyne pumping station pumps the water from the rivers into the Snowy-Murray tunnel where it flows west through Murray 1 and Murray 2 Power Stations before entering the Swampy Plains River and then the Murray River.
The flow of water into Lake Jindabyne is particularly strong during the spring months of October and November.
A Prowling Affair
“A time for everything: A time to relax, and a time to be busy. A time to frolic and a time to labor. A time to give and a time to receive. A time to give, a time to begin and a time to finish.”
…Jonathon Lockwood Huie
“A time to lose and a time to gain. And for all these things, there is a first time, which is now.”
…Unknown
I’ve never cared for the rather unimaginatively given name of
“Pickpocket.”
Personally, I prefer the term “lifter” as a more adequately descriptive definition of what I was really into at the time.
Lifting as in from a pocket, purse, and beyond.
Beyond being lifting something specifically being worn by the person, such as a watch, bracelet, brooch, necklace, and even earring(s).
But then, that is just me being me.
So those statements being said, they are not really important to this story I am about to tell. For it was this occasion that “lifted” me into a whole different level of thievery.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I was at one of my favorite haunts, a wedding reception. This one is very upscale and quite richly delicious.
Almost like I had walked into the aftermath of two rooms being completely dumped onto a third one full of people. One room was full of expensive designer attire, the other full of over-the-top expensive jewellery.
Hopefully, you get the picture of what I was seeing.
I was dressed for an evening out, wearing a sexily short-skirted black satin dress with loose ruffles down the open neckline, a gold belt, and gold dangling earrings. My long red hair was straight down with a curl at the ends. I carried my long black velvet shoulder purse.
The reception was supposed to be a private affair but had so many guests that it was not hard for strangers like myself to mingle in.
It was a late evening affair, held in the huge basement area of a five-star hotel, with an interior entrance and one large exterior front entrance. Both of which had manned security booths set up. However, in the far backside, we’re two long corridors. One had the ladies' loo and a door at the end that led to outside gardens. The other contained the gentleman’s loo with a door at the end leading to a back parking lot, not fenced in.
Neither outside door was watched, or locked. And people were going in and out of those doors regularly. Didn’t make much sense not to be watched, but that was how I gained a surprisingly easy entry.
Cautiously I entered, immediately spying a pair of sweet sixteeners coming out of the loo ahead of me. They definitely were not sisters. They were also definitely royally decked out. Both were wearing long sequined satin gowns(blue and peach)with matching gloves. The gowns were fitted, designer, made, and had obviously been bridesmaid’s dresses for a different wedding each. Both wore their long silky hair elegantly up, held by mother-of-pearl clasps. The twittering pair also were jewelled up, sporting sweet gleaming sets of real matched pearls that swayed with a mesmerizing motion to the girl’s perky gait.
They paid no heed to me, and I lazily followed them inside the main chambre.
Contemplating that if the young adults were dolled up like this, what must the legal adults be wearing?
I had my answer soon enough, and my first few minutes inside is what plopped the rooms being dumped together thought of mine which I wrote about at the beginning.
It was delicious, moving in and out as I canvassed the room,admiring the sumptuous attire of the men and ladies present, expensive jewellery beckoning, plump purses, and fat wallets invitingly everywhere. I was ever on the lookout for opportunities to use my skilled fingers over.
My first opportunity looked to come my way as I whimsically found myself following a short brunette wearing a simply lovely gown that I actually owned a non-designer version of in the same colour , which is what caught my eye.
It was a green gown with a tight velvet bodice and free-falling taffeta skirt. I wish I looked as good in my copy as she did in her fitted one.
She was handsomely sporting a dazzling teardrop emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds hanging from a solid gold braided chain. It was bouncing from her perky breasts as she walked, creating quite the taunting show.
I could well imagine myself looking into a mirror wearing my version of that gown while also wearing that emerald and diamond set pendant.
As a plus, her long hair was up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore. Since I was still getting my feet wet, I was content with just stalking and seeing if it led to something.
It did, but not for her necklace.
As I was following the brunette I spotted a gorilla of a man wearing a far too-tight tux. He was showing off by lifting a squealing lady over his head like one would lift a set of weights.
Three of the lady's girlfriends, dressed in gowns of lavender, maroon, and neon lime, formed a half circle as they all watched laughing, pushing, and pawing against one another’s well-dressed figures as they cheered the bloke on.
With a twinge of reluctance, I decided to pass on the brunette for this much easier opportunity.
So I left her to go on her hip-swaying way, then got in with the half circle of sumptuously dressed ladies and joined in with the touchy-feely fun.
As he was bending over to put her down, I saw his jacket was lifted exposing a thick wallet now protruding from his hip pocket.
The girl joined her friends and as the “gorilla” watched with a half-pleased smile, I left them and walked past him, patting him on the rear with a slight squeeze.
I easily helped his wallet out the rest of the way as I patted his rear while saying to the prat’s backside…
“That has to be more fun than working out in a gym, eh laddie?”
Ok, so that was picking a pocket. But I still prefer the phrase lifting.
As in the solid silver Cartier watch, and the loosely worn emerald gemstone cocktail ring I lifted off two of the three watchers as we giggled together, and I happily stroked my fingers along their too soft sleek gowned, giggly warm, unsuspecting bodies.
With three scores now under my belt, my fingers deliciously tingled as I continued meandering my way amongst the happily partying guests, biding my time as I enjoyed the showy glamour of the reception halls’ guests.
The first dance time for the Bride and her Consort came.
Lights dimmed.
I began pressing up from behind against the couples in front. Seeing a sea of arms wrapped around silken waistlines. I eased off a man’s Rolex from his wrist as he held it against his wife’s satin-gowned waist. Similarly, I then relieved a lady’s gloved wrist of a gold jewelled bracelet as I pressed the fingers of my free hand against the side of her delightfully tingling feeling taffeta gown. My apologies to her were accepted as my other hand pocketed the bracelet.
Then as the wedding party held the floor, another hip pocket of a male watcher was relieved of a fat billfold.
Two picks and a lift for you language police out there.
Then the dance area, with the lights still dimmed, erupted as couples swarmed onto the floor. I went with the flow. Lifting a plump wallet from a swinging purse in the process as I cut through.
I then stationed myself in the outskirts watching the dancers. A fast dance tune started up and many of the men retreated leaving mostly ladies in shiny flowing gowns and swinging long shimmery skirts gyrating and jostling to the fast beat.
I spotted a lady wearing a taffeta gown with a diamond broach holding at the side of her waist.
I started to swing to the beat myself, wading in.
I worked my way to her, passing in the process the two sweet sixteen-year-olds and their swinging ropes of pearls. Brushing alongside them I spotted my prey. I zeroed in and jostled against her sweaty figure. Managing to easily pluck off her pricey broach as I slipped past.
Love the feel of an expensive taffeta gown.
I briefly considered leaving at that point. But there was still one traditional part of the reception I was waiting for, the Bride’s Bouquet throw.
Think of the potential.
A group of jostling, well-dressed ladies all focused on one thing. With someone like myself focused on another. There is no other opportunity like this, with the possible exception of midnight on New Year’s when the lights are dimmed over a swarming sea of guests.
So I behaved myself, catching a smoke and a free drink as I waited with anticipation.
Finally, it was announced and all of us single girls went out onto the dance floor.
I watched and like a lioness in the bush, circled around in the back.
I saw a young lady of twelve coming out to take part. She was a darling, dollied and dressed up like an adult. She was wearing blue mascara, that matched the colour of the long flowing blue satin gown she adorably was wearing. A fancy Long rhinestone necklace of diamonds and sapphires, were glistening down the front of her gown as she boldly made her way in.
When she passed me I cut her off and bumped right into her. As she wobbled on her blue leather pumps, my right hand shot up, lifting the front of her necklace as my left unsnapped the simple clasp. I pulled her necklace off with my right hand as she went off an apologetic ”Sorry miss ” like it had been her fault.
I had taken her necklace because I felt peeved that anyone not of marrying age would feel she should be allowed to take part, spoiling the tradition. Like having a cap and gown graduation for preschoolers, complete with diplomas. Kinda of ruins the meaning for those of us graduating after long years of schooling.
Sorry, but really, was a twelve-year-old going to be the one to marry next?
Oh by the by, the young girl's obviously wealthy mum was not wearing jewellery, otherwise, I would have targeted her instead to make my silent point.
So after that random encounter, I went back on the prowl, quickly choosing a likely victim and legitimately eligible participant.
I happily positioned myself.
The girl I had chosen was a tall thin blonde tightly encased in a white silk dress. Her jewels consisted mostly of 14K gold chains. Except for a gold tennis bracelet set with diamonds and rubies which is what I had my sights on.
Then, who should pop up next to the blonde? Why it was the short brunette wearing that simply lovely green velvet and taffeta gown like the one I had back in my closet at the flat.
Also wearing that delectable dazzling pendant.
I had not seen her since I had first started to follow her, and truth be told, had almost forgotten all about her.
I immediately wedged against the girl next to me(a nice lady in a silk gown with pearls) and got behind the brunette
The brunette chick's hair was still up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore, with that expensively flashy jewelled pendant at its bottom. She was short, the neckline of her gown coming up to my chin. It was now all a matter of timing.
As the bridal bouquet of roses was thrown and everyone lunged forward my fingers snaked up the backside of her soft gown and reaching the necklace I lifted the clasp and with a perfectly executed lift, opened it, slipping off her necklace almost before her high-heeled feet were firmly back on the ground.
I pulled away with my prize. And she with hers, for my victim had actually been the one catching the bouquet.
I turned, almost bumping into the pair of sweet sixteens in the satin bridesmaids' gowns who had been standing off to one side of us trying their luck at catching the bouquet.
We exchanged smiles and actually started walking off in the same direction. I pulled back and discreetly followed them.
Watching with interest as their gowns were richly fluttering along their svelte youthfully pointed figures. They then entered the same back corridor where I had first encountered them.
I saw one pulling out a pack of cigarettes as they whispered between themselves.
Happily, I overheard that they were sneaking off for a smoke.
For I saw opportunity knocking.
Following the girls I stood at the door of the loo as they slipped out the back door.
I turned and followed.
I was anticipating a chance to use their fear of being caught by me outside smoking, to allow me to chum right in and once I told them I saw no reason why they shouldn’t be smoking, receive relieved hugs from them as I left. Relieving each of them in turn by trimming off some of their pearled baubles.
At least that was the scenario that played out in my head.
One that had worked for me before. Except for that last time, three well-dressed younger ladies had been outside sneaking drinks from a flask. A pair of diamond earrings, a gold braided necklace, and a stunning diamond pin, had been my relieving picks from them.
So deciding that an opportunity for a pearl lift may be at hand I circled out and just followed the giggling and smoke signals emitting from their hidden roost.
I maneuvered up, unseen, behind them. And once again, I was that lioness hidden in the bush, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
As I waited, watching their adorably gowned and pearled figures as they giggled and gabbed on freely, I easily overheard the pair of sweet ones talking about their planned sleepover at the one girl's house.
The pretty pair were going to be alone since both parents were staying overnight at the hotel next to the reception.
I thought to myself how lovely it would be to burgle that house. To acquire all of the girl's delicious pearls, and possibly more?!
Then an epiphany as new as it was intriguing shot into my mind.
Why not try it?
I already had a nice haul for the evening. So if I could not pull it off I stood to lose nothing.
It was a gamble I was willing to take.
I stood there and watched, listened until the pair finished and swished their way back inside, none the wiser that they(and their pricy jewellery)had been watched in close proximity by a thief.
In a total bit of whimsy I went back to my sports coupe parked across an empty street from the lot. Once there I lit a cigarette of my own and stood vigil over the back parking lot.
There I could see several fancy cars parked. Including the fire-red Porsche that I had learned the one girl would be driving herself and her friend home in for their sleepover. The sports car was a sixteenth birthday gift from her parents.
All I received on my sweet sixteen was a summons to the head mistress’s office.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was nearly two hours before I spied the fetchingly pretty pair walking out across that parking lot, smoking cigarettes like petite geysers.
They were vulnerably alone, their shiny long gowns flowing along svelte youthful figures with an air of elegance that called out to be noticed.
And with those gorgeous pearls, they were wearing, both clueless chicks presented a pair of prettily attired targets for a thief.
Fortunately, there were no muggers around. Only me, a thief with quite different aspirations on acquiring pearls this evening.
Seeing the girls leaving I got in my coupe and followed the red Porsche as it turned the corner.
It was easy to follow them. The driver was inexperienced enough not to have a lead foot.
The Porsche finally turned into the secluded driveway leading to a large two-story gothic stone structure, with small balconies outside the upper floor windows. As was a common sight with these large houses, a metal flower trellis reached up one side in between two balconies.
I found a place to pull over and quickly got out to sneak up and scout the grounds surrounding the house.
I saw a light go on upstairs, conveniently on the trellis side. Thankful my dress was tightly form-fitting, I went over and climbed up far enough to peek inside the upper-floor window
It was a bedroom, walls painted pink. Both girls were inside, starting to undress. Totally so into themselves that the pretty things had no idea a thief was eyeing them with sinister intent.
Licking my lips I watched the pair removing thier delicious pearls and piling them up on the vanity next to an open oak jewellery case, the contents shimmering in the light.
Then they pulled off their gloves and slipped out of their gowns, wearing only long slinking silk slips. Both girls, long hair now down, slipped into fancy satin robes and giggling, headed out the door.
I slipped back down the trellis and skirted the house. A light in the basement came on.
Crouching in the shadows I peeked in. The handsomely satin-wrapped pair were sitting on a couch in the furnished basement. Passing back and forth a clear bottle containing an amber-coloured liquor. Scotch I presumed.
Seeing they were becoming quickly intoxicated, I rose and with a feeling of utter confidence, went back to the trellis and climbed back up to the window.
It was conveniently left unlatched.
Piece of cake this burgling business apparently could be.
Turned out, It was a piece of cake.
Beginner’s luck, we’ll see.
I slipped over the sill and into the bedroom they had changed in.
The young lady's pearls piled on a vanity, next to the open jewellery case were my first target.
As the clueless young pair in the furnished basement was getting drunk, I put on a pair of satin evening gloves found on one of the gowns and lifted(or picked) the bedroom clean of valuables.
No persnickety housemaid could have done a more efficient job of picking clean that bedroom, or as quickly, as I did that early morning.
Then I left the room to hit the parent’s master bedroom.
It was the one on the opposite side of the hallway.
Inside I found a tall Jewelry Armoire. I opened it up and my eyes were dazzled by the display of pricy day jewelry it held. Or had held for another ten minutes until I emptied its contents into my already bulging purse.
I knew the mum would be wearing the good stuff at the wedding, the rest may be inside a safe, which was beyond my skill level in picking.
I briefly wondered if the owner of the red Porsche knew her parent's safe combination.
I thought of taking the time to find out. But shook my head no. Time to skedaddle.
Then I saw it. In my rush, I had almost missed a solitary piece of jewellery laying out on a nightstand.
It was a dazzler. An almost 7-centimeter wide bracelet, set with 7 strands of diamonds. Three strands of round stones each flanking a centre strand of pear-shaped stones. Vulgarly expensive.
But why was it out? A trap?
I edged up to the nightstand and looked around. Nothing else appeared out of place.
Except for that expensively flashy diamond bracelet.
Looking around, I carefully eased it off the nightstand. Nothing happened, not that I knew what could have happened.
I stuffed the bracelet inside my purse, still looking warily around.
I shrugged my feelings of danger off and left the room. Though perhaps a tad bit quicker than necessary.
I went back to the pink bedroom, then climbed back out the window and down the metal trellis
I stopped by the basement window for one last peek. The young shiny attired darlings were intensely hugging each other. The bottle of scotch was now almost empty.
Suddenly a naughty picture popped inside my head, with no proper rhyme, nor reason.
In that picture, I saw the pair still dressed voluptuously up in their satin gowns, tied up gagged, and sinister hands groping as the haplessly squirming sweet sixteeners were being relieved of pearls. Then long feminine fingers were tickling in the girl’s sensitive areas until a safe opening combination was coughed up.
It was a picture that would not go away. I shook my head to get them out and left.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I ruined the dress I was wearing, but I realized I had gotten away with enough small pricey valuables that gave me a profit that more than doubled my pickings combined over the previous 4 months.
As I drove home I experienced such a rush of euphoria that I decided the experience just had to be relived.
When I got back to my rooms, I changed into my satin pjs and empty my purse onto the black satin sheets of my bed.
I lifted the pearls and couldn’t stop fingering them as my euphoria overwhelmed me with sweeping hot flashes of giddiness over my accomplishments.
It was a lovely feeling. Both sensuous and a bit of hard sexual desires.
Not really sure where the bound and gagged fantasy picture came from. Or what it was foretelling if anything.
But the reality of tonight’s experience lay in glittering heaps on my black satin sheets.
I picked up the far to valuably shimmering diamond bracelet.
Pondering.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I bring that last memory up because years later I may have found out why the diamond bracelet had been left out.
For apparently some of the ultra-wealthy, as a ruse, will leave out several pieces of valuable jewels as a deterrent. Hoping the inexperienced thief will grab those and flee without searching further. Which is exactly what I did.
It also means that those two sweet sixteeners may have been the only barrier between me and a potentially small fortune in hidden jewels.
So maybe that fantasy vision I had about tickling to find a safe combination could have been an unrealized sixth sense moment?
One never knows.
Fini
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It's what adults in America are teaching their children. As Dad and I travel and boondock across America, I receive the same type of harassment. This is from state to state, community to community. Look at this beautiful scenery around me. As Dad edits this photo; a guy pulls up, parks his ATV right in front of our motorhome. He then walks around the front of our camp. His sole purpose is to get me worked up and act aggressive. Here we are boondocking (in our new camp), in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles, and this simpleton shows up to harass me. This; while Dad is editing this photo.
We get the same treatment when we go into town. This is from town to town, from Walmart to Walmart. The same exact acts, of harassment and hate. Adults using their children, their pets, their communities; to mob, harass, hate and divide. There was recently a video of a woman in New York, coaxing a dog into city traffic. She was supposedly doing this, because the owner didn’t have the dog on a leash. THIS is the mentality of those involved in Gang Stalking, Community Mobbing, in America.
Dad documents it, records it, has been for years. It seems no one really cares. Here in America, we have selective Law Enforcement.
I have Hundreds, maybe Thousands. I call the FBI to inform them of Domestic Terrorism (I have definitive proof), and they hang up on me. I was told to contact Local Law Enforcement; if you’ve read through my post, you know how that goes. They all have excuses; its just a big circle of Plausible Deniability. I want to repeat this before I go into the description: I inform the FBI of Domestic Terrorism and I’m abruptly hung up on me. And, we wonder how Jan 6th could have happened; when the FBI was fully aware of the Threat. Now, do you know what I mean, about Selective Policing in America.
The picture you see, is one of the many people that Stalk, Bait and Harass; my Service Dog and I.
We moved camp today. While I was packing up at the last camp; we received a Convoy of Hate before we pulled out. One man went as far as putting on a Red Jump Suit, stands up on his motorcycle as he passed. This was because Koda was up front, looking out the window, as I loaded the car on it’s dolly.
Now, here at our new camp, many, many miles from our last camp; we are here a few minutes and Karen comes walking from a Fire Lane, to watch. It is the same woman in this picture, but she didn’t have the dog, or backpack. She came up to a fork, that could be seen from our camp. I was setting up the solar panels, Koda was tied to the front side of the Motorhome. She stood at the fork, doing something to cause Koda to growl. When I came around front she stopped. I have it on Video.
Hours later, I was playing fetch with Koda, he was having to much fun: the same woman drags this poor old dog, up the Fire Lane. She does this, so it and she could be seen by Koda. This was just an act to get him excited (he loves to play with other dogs). She literally pulled and yelled at the dog she had; the poor thing could not keep up. Take a good look at it. I have pictures of it all. She was in a hurry to spread her hate. These people could care less about a dog, or their own children it seems. They use children often to harass Targets.
This is a prime Example of people involved in Domestic Terrorism. You Can call it Gang Stalking, Community Stalking, Community Policing; it is Actually Domestic Terrorism. These people spread nothing but Fear, Hate, Intimidation, Mobbing and Terror. They even teach children to do so. Once we were set up; it didn’t take long for the same people that Stormed pass our camp, show up here. One man in a Red Jeep, pulled up on a hill a couple hundred yards behind us and Watched us. . It was just another attempt of Intimidation. It didn’t work….
Direct Energy Weapons are used during this Stalking, Mobbing, Baiting and Hating. Not every time, but they are used. I know its a bold statement, but its the TRUTH. Many Government Employees, along with CIA Agents have reported being Attacked by these Weapons (Havana Syndrome). For years our Government turned its back on them. Now the CIA is supposed to be investigating it. We know how that will go. And, the FBI, apparently doesn’t want to hear about it. BUT, they are doing nothing for the Average American Citizen.
I could care less what others think of my statements. I have TWO thing on my side; TRUTH and HISTORY. History does expose the truth, and one day I’ll be vindicated. If someone you know, is a victim of this type of Domestic Terrorism; please give them the benefit of doubt. Don’t turn your back on them; like our Local/Federal Law Enforcement and Government. “Disgusting”, is and understatement.
I’m not against Law Enforcement, I am against Selective Policing and Cover-up….
As I post this on Flickr, an ATV stops with rows of bright lights, in front of our Motorhome.
You still have trouble believing, read this: www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&s...
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MADRAS WAR CEMETERY was created to receive Second World War graves from many civil and cantonment cemeteries in the south and east of India where their permanent maintenance could not be assured. The cemetery contains 856 Commonwealth burials of the Second World War. The MADRAS 1914-1918 MEMORIAL is situated at the rear of the cemetery. It bears the names of more than 1,000 servicemen who died during the First World War.It is located in Nandambakkam, Chennai. It is currently maintained by the CWGC in partnership with Government of India
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MTA NYCT Subway Receives A Hybrid Locomotive By Sea And Rail. On the July 3, 2024, NYNJ Rail, New York & Atlantic Railway, and Metropolitan Transportation Authority - MTA NYCT Subway coordinated the delivery of Wabtec WAB6HYB/R-255 HL001 from Greenville, New Jersey to Brooklyn, New York. The locomotive was loaded on the NYNJ 200 barge and powered across New York Harbor by McAllister Towing's 'Bruce McAllister'. After arrival in New York, it was unloaded by NYNJ Rail. New York & Atlantic Railway's RS-90 then transported the loco to the interchange at MTA NYCT Subway's Linden Shops, where a Division C crew brought the locomotive on to the property.
Because this kind of locomotive is not designed to work with standard consists, it is shipped on a 90-foot flat car, and will be moved to the track by crane. The Wabtec WAB6HYB/R-255 is a 675hp hybrid work locomotive designed for the demands and clearances of the New York City Subway system. The diesel engine charges the batteries, which will allow the locomotive to operate for 8 hours. This will allow a new generation of locos to pull work trains through the subway with a much lower level of emissions. MTA NYCT Subway presently rosters 90 diesel engines that operate on non-revenue work trains, and is adding this 25 unit order of R-255s as well as the 10 R-77Es under conversion to R-257s by CAD Railway Industries to increase the size and flexibility of the fleet.
YouTube Video: youtu.be/-XD6k1tMbcs
Full resolution pics and prints: www.riverrailphoto.com/mtanyctsubwayhl001delivery
Like the title says, "ask and you shall receive." I've had some requests for more Monterey photos. This WILL be the last one I upload; the others that I have just aren't that good. Don't want to upload something I'm not 100% satisfied with. Anyway, it's self explanatory...Veyrons. Please leave a comment/fave if you like it. Please do not use/post elsewhere without my prior consent. Thank you!
Buy print here: 500px.com/photo/2009303
***BEST VIEWED IN LARGE***
King Triptolemus receives the grain & knowledge of agriculture from Demeter (left) & her daughter Persephone
Amphora [550-525] - RISD Museum
RISDM 25-083 v02
This is where I stopped to regain courage and calm my nerves before heading back to city traffic. After getting buzzed by a jet and a stray sniper bullet that day on the mountain, I needed some serious help from nature.
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Frodo receives The One Ring from Tolkien - Lord of The Rings
Made this for a LOTR Lug collab! Follow them on Instagram!
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"& everyone’s competing for a love they won't receive
'Cause what this palace wants is release"
I'm playing catch up at this point, missing two weeks.I honestly edited the crap out of this and I have no idea how it looks any more. But, I took it because I wanted to experiment. Since I finished classes for the semester I thought I'd run to my camera and take photos non-stop.
Instead, I found myself mentally exhausted and just wanted a break from everything. Is it weird to say that I feel like I'm losing the dreamer in me? I find myself to be really cynical at times, it's like reality is hitting me in the face over and over again. I don't know..
I'm constantly frustrated by people and how they think treating people a certain way comes without consequences. And I'm frustrated by how everyone around me is rushing me to figure out who I am and who I want to be.
I just would like taking things slow, I'd like people to be kind, and I'd like the world to function on a more humane basis
AND this is where Lorde and my troubled mind comes in. I love her. Sorry I think too much, and I'm getting too comfortable writing it all out here. oh well, maybe someone will see what I'm seeing :)
hope you lovely people are doing well x
Flow of water
Lake Jindabyne receives the flow from the Snowy River as well as its tributaries, the Thredbo River and Eucumbene River. The Jindabyne pumping station pumps the water from the rivers into Lake Eucumbene when it is then pumped into the Murray River and Murrumbidgee River. The flow of water into Lake Jindabyne is particularly strong during the spring months of October and November. Lake Jindabyne's capacity is 689,790 megalitres.
The idea of the Snowy Mountains Scheme was developed in the 1940's as a way of increasing the flow of inland rivers in order to encourage the development of primary industries based on irrigation. After the Lake was built, the flow of water into the Snowy River was only 1% of the amount that flowed before the river was dammed. This caused concerns about the state of the lower reaches of the Snowy River in Victoria and NSW.
A Victorian parliamentary committee recommended in October 1998 that the flow into the Snowy River be increased to 15%. Craig Ingram was elected to the Victorian Parliament as the independent member of East Gippsland with a promise to increase the flow into the Snowy River. After the 1999 election, Ingram was one of a handful of independents who reached an agreement with Steve Bracks, the leader of the Victorian ALP. In 2000, the NSW and Victorian Governments reached a longterm agreement to increase the flow of water into the Snowy to 28%. Work to modify the dam spillway commenced in 1994 and is ongoing as at July 2009.
Recreational Uses
Lake Jindabyne is a popular sailing and fishing destination. The body of water is one of the largest fresh water resivoirs in New South Wales, and has a resident population of Atlantic Salmon, Brook Trout and Rainbow Trout. In 1969 the Eucumbene Sailing Club moved to Lake Jindabyne and formed the Lake Jindabyne Yacht Club as conditions were not as rough on Jindabyne as Eucumbene. The club operates from November until April every year with racing in nineteen different classes of boat.
Human environment
The town of Jindabyne was on the site proposed for the dam. It was relocated to a nearby site on the shores of the lake in the mid 1960's. The settlement of East Jindabyne is located above what is known as Old Jindabyne and you can occasionally see parts of the old town when the levels of the lake are low. The Polish community has built a statue of Paul Strzelecki who first explored the area to celebrate the Bicentennial of white settlement of Australia in 1988.
Lake Jindabyne also has a reputation as one of the best places to catch trout in Australia. It is also a popular venue for waterskiing and sailing during spring, summer and autumn.
For further information please visit en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Jindabyne
When Mina receives a letter from her Godfather, Davy Penhallow, requesting her to visit she drops everything and rushes to Cornwall only to find Davy is hospital after suffering a stroke. As staying on the Isles of Scilly waiting for Davy to recover Mina starts to discover secrets both from present day and the past.
I must I say I really enjoyed this book. So much so I have down load the sequel for next Decembers month long fluff read.
“Receive every day as a resurrection from death, as a new enjoyment of life; meet every rising sun with such sentiments of God's goodness, as if you had seen it, and all things, new - created upon your account: and under the sense of so great a blessing”
Following MayYeo's suggestion, now i'll do one of these for each tagging i receive \o/
Tagged by Shira!
#1: His full name is actually Qamar Ravi Vivekananda, but since everyone sucks at spelling it, so "Viv' is what glued the most.
#2: He's 21 old and indian hindu (set to default age, might age a year or two depending on the convo).
#3: Forgets to eat pretty often.
#4: Favorite things are Sunflowers, mangoes, Gonjasufi and Nag Champa.
#5: He's the nicest character i have. Very calm, adorkable and usually mellow to anyone. Though should you piss him off for real (which is pretty rare) be prepared to run, lol.
#6: Aromantic (doesn't experience romantic attraction).
#7: Hates to dress formally and wardrobe is 90% of pajama shirts and drapes.
#8: Contrary to popular assumption, he's not vegetarian or vegan.
#9: Smokes anything, from normal cigarettes to charas on chillum.
#10: He has a tumblr.
Now is your time! Choose one of your resin boy/girl and tell us 10 random facts about him/her!
President Barack Obama receives an update in the Oval Office from FBI Director James Comey and Homeland Security Advisor Lisa Monaco on the mass shooting in Orlando, Fla., June 12, 2016. Also attending the meeting were Chief of Staff Denis McDonough, National Security Advisor Susan E. Rice and Deputy National Security Advisor Ben Rhodes.
(Official White House Photo by Pete Souza)
This official White House photograph is being made available only for publication by news organizations and/or for personal use printing by the subject(s) of the photograph. The photograph may not be manipulated in any way and may not be used in commercial or political materials, advertisements, emails, products, promotions that in any way suggests approval or endorsement of the President, the First Family, or the White House.
...I wake up and first things first
I’m of service
I make sure your needs are met, as a selfless
I give hard and serve hard and now I, I need a break
I give big, I give all and now it’s time to regenerate
Today’s all about me, all about cup filling
Today’s all about me learning how, how to receive
How to receive,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
I move on through offerings often one-sided
Being this low on list of worth: over-extended
I give hard, provide hard and now I need some relief
I look out, I proffer, and now I need some respite indeed...
Details:
"Ask, Believe, Receive."
Practice piece using techniques from "Letter Love 101" and "Artful Alphabets" with Joanne Sharpe.
Faber Castell Pitt Brush Markers and Sharpie markers.
A prototype transmit/receive module on a single 6x6 mm chip, intended to deliver miniaturised space radar systems for future missions.
Traditional transmit/receive modules used on Europe’s Sentinel-1 and comparable radar missions employ separate circuits for the high-power amplifier, the low-noise amplifier and the switch/isolator.
The aim, developed for ESA by TNO in the Netherlands, UMS in France, and Airbus Defense and Space in Germany, was to integrate all these functions onto a single chip, while delivering increased efficiency and a threefold increase in radio-frequency power.
The added ingredient enabling this was that the chip was made using gallium nitride (GaN) – the most promising semiconductor since silicon. If you have a Blu-ray player than you own a tiny crystal of GaN, used in high-performance blue lasers.
GaN can operate with high radio-frequency output power, low noise or at much higher temperatures than silicon. As a plus, it is also inherently resistant to radiation. ESA has been leading the industrialisation of GaN through the GaN Reliability Enhancement and Technology Transfer Initiative consortium.
This prototype was developed through ESA’s Basic Technology Research Programme.
A follow-up project to integrate the chip into a complete radar module suitable for a future Sentinel-1 successor mission is being undertaken through the Agency’s follow-up General Support Technology Programme.
Credit: ESA/TNO
[Man wearing a suit and holding a straw hat receives a Gladstone bag from another man in a suit, while other men in shirt leaves and overalls look on smiling; one man is playing a trumpet; possibly a retirement or other celebration at a factory]
[between 1910 and 1920]
1 negative : glass ; 8 x 6 in. or smaller
Notes:
Title and other identifying information from source: Flickr Commons project, 2020.
Date from negatives in same range.
Gift; Herbert A. French; 1947.
This glass negative might show streaks and other blemishes resulting from a natural deterioration in the original coatings.
Format:
Glass negatives.
Rights Info: No known restrictions on publication.
Repository: Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, Washington, D.C. 20540 USA, hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.print
Part Of: National Photo Company Collection (Library of Congress)
General information about the National Photo Company collection is available at hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/pp.npco
Higher resolution image is available (Persistent URL): hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/npcc.30813
Call Number: LC-F82- 10127
Liz Frazer, resident at Pine Meadow Nursing Home, receives her first COVID-19 vaccination.
This article written by Jeff Green at the Frontenac News (frontenacnews.ca) was published January 27, 2021.
Vaccination begins in rural KFL&A as active COVID-19 case loads decrease.UK variant has arrived, prompting new measures.
Residents at the Pine Meadow Nursing Home in Northbrook were offered the Pfizer-Biontech vaccine on Saturday (January 23) and 92.5% of the residents in the home took up the offer and received their first dose.
“It was a very exciting and emotional day,” said Margaret Palimaka,” administrator at Pine Meadow in an email to the News. “We are all so happy to be moving ahead with this. We had been a little concerned that we would have to wait until later in the process to get the vaccine because KFL&A has been doing so well throughout this past year and we are in a pretty remote location.”
The impact of a shortage of Pfizer vaccine in KFL&A was felt at Pine Meadow on Saturday, however.
“There were only a couple of doses left on Saturday after the residents were vaccinated,” said Palimaka, “so those were given to staff. We have been told that staff and essential caregivers will be receiving their first dose at a later date once the Pfizer vaccine numbers increase again. We don’t know when that will be but we are looking forward to it.”
Some of the Pine Meadow staff have gone to Kingston Health Sciences Centre to get their first dose
Vaccination roll-out has not hit rural retirement homes yet
The News has made Inquiries to retirement residences and even a seniors’ apartment complex in Frontenac County, and found most are still waiting to learn when their residents and staff will be offered the vaccine on-site.
According to the manager of one of the retirement residences in Frontenac County, KFLAPH has said they expect the vaccine will be offered to residents in long term care/retirement homes, by February 21.
The manager said they were hoping to be informed of the date when the vaccine will be offered, a day or two, so they gather all their employees to get the shot at one time.
Also on Monday, the provincial government announced that residents in long term care throughout the province will now become the first priority for vaccination, with a target date of February 5 for the first dose.
It appears that senior’s living in senior’s housing complexes, are not included in the priority list the way those in retirement homes and long term care are.
Neil Orser, the administrator for the Loughborough Housing Corporation, which runs two seniors’ apartment buildings in Sydenham, said he has not been contacted at all by health officials about the vaccination program, or anything else, over the last 10 months since the COVID-19 response began.
“I’ve just followed the published guidelines, as have the residents in the two buildings,” he said.
UK variant
Kingston Frontenac Public Health (KFLAPH) put out a media release on Monday (January 25) announcing that there has been a lab confirmed case B.1.1.7 COIVD-19 case in KFL&A. B.1.1.7 is a new, more easily transmissible variant of COVID-19 that was first found in the United Kingdom.
As a result, Dr. Kieran Moore, the Medical Officer of Health for the region, is “advising anyone who has travelled outside of the region (i.e., beyond Hastings, Prince Edward, Leeds, Grenville, or Lanark counties), has had visitors from outside the region, or has moved to the region in the last 14 days to consider voluntary, asymptomatic testing for COVID-19.”
“We know that one in five individuals with COVID-19 don’t have symptoms but carry and transmit COVID-19,” said Dr. Moore. “With this new variant detected in our area, it is crucial that we alter our COVID-19 control strategies and recommend asymptomatic testing to those who have travelled, or had visitors, from outside our region, to detect positive COVID-19 cases early and to isolate these cases, to prevent rapid spread of the virus and outbreaks in our community.”
KFLAPH is also recommending a more proactive approach, to comprehensive and timely case and contact management, to limit the spread of this variant with the following public health measures: Isolation period extended to 14 days for all confirmed or probable cases of COVID-19, and a lower threshold for considering contacts to have had high risk of exposure (e.g., not masked for any duration of time and less than 2 metres from each other).
“Please remain vigilant and continue to adhere to public health measures over the coming weeks and months as schools begin in-person learning. The continued efforts of individuals and families to stay home, stay local, and to not travel unless for essential purposes, will help keep the number of positive cases low in our area and help our community stay safe, until vaccines are available to all,” added Dr. Moore.
Caseload headed in the right direction
This sobering release from KFLAPH is coming about after the caseload in the region has settled down, after it had been on the rise in the early winter and through the holiday season.
As of Monday, January 25, there were 16 active cases in the region. This case rate compares favourably with the case rates in Ontario, Canada and the United States, in dramatic fashion.
The active case rate (per capita) is 22 times higher in Canada, 30 times higher in Ontario, and 95 times higher in the United States, than it is in KFL&A. The average region with a population of 200,000 anywhere in Canada, has 384 active cases, the average region in Ontario has 480, and in the United States the average is 1520 cases.
The overall case rate since the outbreak began shows a similar pattern. About 0.33% of KFL&A residents have had lab confirmed cases of the virus since March 15. 2020. In Ontario as a whole, the overall case rate is 6 times higher (1.8%). In Canada it is 7 times higher (2.05%) in the United States it is 22 times higher (7.6%), and in the United Kingdom it is 16 times higher (5.5%).
There were no new cases of COVID-19 in KFL&A on Monday. The active case rate was 16, the case rate over the previous 7 days was 8 per 100,000 people, and the positive testing rate was 0.24%. The colour coded zones in Ontario have been superseded by the provincial lock-down and stay at home orders, but the KFL&A region will come out of those orders in the Green zone if the current trend persists.
Part of the Frontenac News Album
Note: All CDHS Flickr content is available for the public use (non-commercial) providing our Rights Statement is followed:
Today, January 6, the Christmas holidays end in Spain and other countries, which is when children receive their gifts.
Although in many homes this tradition of gift giving has been moved to Christmas Day and so the kids have more time to enjoy their toys before going back to school.
Christian tradition establishes January 6 as the day of the "Epiphany" in which, according to the Gospel of Matthew (2:1-12) "Some Magi who came from the East arrived in Jerusalem asking: Where is the newborn king of the Jews? Because we have seen his star in the East and have come to worship him."
Later new data were added such as that there were three of them (confirmed in the 5th century by Pope Leo I) and later their names: Bithisarea, Melichior and Gathaspa.
At the dawn of Christianity, the three wise men were represented as belonging to the same race and with the same physical appearance.
But from the 12th century onwards, with the intention of symbolising the universality of Christianity, the appearances of the three wise men became differentiated and individualised, each of them acquiring characteristics that associated them with “the three parts of the world then known: Europe, Asia and Africa”.
During the Second Crusade (1147-1149) the Bishop of Milan received from the Roman Emperor of Constantinople the venerated relics of the Three Wise Men rescued in 300 AD by the Empress Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine.
The relics of the Three Wise Men were looted from Milan by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick Barbarossa, who gave them to the Archbishop of Cologne, Reinald of Dassel in 1164.
The Reliquary of the Three Kings (German: Dreikönigsschrein) is a large, richly decorated, triple gilded sarcophagus placed above and behind the high altar of Cologne Cathedral in the city of Cologne, Germany, which is said to contain the bones of the Three Wise Men.
The reliquary, which was made between approximately 1190 and 1225 by the goldsmith Nicholas of Verdun, is considered the largest and most artistically demanding reliquary preserved from the Middle Ages. (Source: Wikipedia and other websites).
¡HASTA LAS PRÓXIMAS NAVIDADES, 2025!
Hoy, 6 de enero, acaban las fiestas navideñas en España y en otros países, que es cuando los niños reciben sus regalos.
Aunque en muchos hogares esta tradición de regalos se ha trasladado al día de Navidad y así los chavales tienen más tiempo para disfrutar de sus juguetes antes de volver a la escuela.
La tradición cristiana establece el día 6 de enero como día de la "Epifanía" en la que, según el evangelio de Mateo (2:1-12) "Unos Magos que venían de Oriente llegaron a Jerusalén preguntando: ¿Dónde está el rey de los judíos recién nacido? Porque hemos visto su estrella en el Oriente y venimos a adorarlo.".
Posteriormente se fueron añadiendo nuevos datos como que ellos eran tres (confirmado en el siglo V por el papa León I) y más tarde sus nombres: Bithisarea, Melichior y Gathaspa.
En los albores del cristianismo, a los tres magos se les representaba como de una misma raza y con el mismo aspecto físico.
Pero a partir del siglo XII, con la intención de simbolizar la universalidad del cristianismo, las apariencias de los reyes magos se diferenciaron e individualizaron, adquiriendo cada uno de ellos características que los asociaban a “las tres partes del mundo entonces conocidas: Europa, Asia y África”.
Durante la Segunda Cruzada (1147-1149) el obispo de Milán recibió del emperador romano de Constantinopla las veneradas reliquias de los Reyes Mago rescatadas en el año 300 d. C. por la emperatriz Elena, madre del emperador Constantino.
Las reliquias de los Reyes Magos fueron saqueadas de Milán por el emperador del Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico Federico Barbarroja, que se las entregó al arzobispo de Colonia, Reinaldo de Dassel en 1164.
El relicario de los Tres Reyes (en alemán Dreikönigsschrein) es un gran sarcófago triple, dorado y ricamente decorado, colocado encima y detrás del altar mayor de la Catedral de Colonia, en la ciudad de Colonia, Alemania, que supuestamente contiene los huesos de los Reyes Magos.
El relicario, que fue realizado aproximadamente entre 1190 y 1225 por el orfebre Nicolás de Verdún, es considerado el relicario más grande y artísticamente exigente que se ha conservado de la Edad Media.(Fuente: Wikipedia y otras webs).
Flow of water
Lake Jindabyne receives the flow from the Snowy River as well as its tributaries, the Thredbo River and Eucumbene River. The Jindabyne pumping station pumps the water from the rivers into Lake Eucumbene when it is then pumped into the Murray River and Murrumbidgee River. The flow of water into Lake Jindabyne is particularly strong during the spring months of October and November. Lake Jindabyne's capacity is 689,790 megalitres.
The idea of the Snowy Mountains Scheme was developed in the 1940's as a way of increasing the flow of inland rivers in order to encourage the development of primary industries based on irrigation. After the Lake was built, the flow of water into the Snowy River was only 1% of the amount that flowed before the river was dammed. This caused concerns about the state of the lower reaches of the Snowy River in Victoria and NSW.
A Victorian parliamentary committee recommended in October 1998 that the flow into the Snowy River be increased to 15%. Craig Ingram was elected to the Victorian Parliament as the independent member of East Gippsland with a promise to increase the flow into the Snowy River. After the 1999 election, Ingram was one of a handful of independents who reached an agreement with Steve Bracks, the leader of the Victorian ALP. In 2000, the NSW and Victorian Governments reached a longterm agreement to increase the flow of water into the Snowy to 28%. Work to modify the dam spillway commenced in 1994 and is ongoing as at July 2009.
Recreational Uses
Lake Jindabyne is a popular sailing and fishing destination. The body of water is one of the largest fresh water resivoirs in New South Wales, and has a resident population of Atlantic Salmon, Brook Trout and Rainbow Trout. In 1969 the Eucumbene Sailing Club moved to Lake Jindabyne and formed the Lake Jindabyne Yacht Club as conditions were not as rough on Jindabyne as Eucumbene. The club operates from November until April every year with racing in nineteen different classes of boat.
Human environment
The town of Jindabyne was on the site proposed for the dam. It was relocated to a nearby site on the shores of the lake in the mid 1960's. The settlement of East Jindabyne is located above what is known as Old Jindabyne and you can occasionally see parts of the old town when the levels of the lake are low. The Polish community has built a statue of Paul Strzelecki who first explored the area to celebrate the Bicentennial of white settlement of Australia in 1988.
Lake Jindabyne also has a reputation as one of the best places to catch trout in Australia. It is also a popular venue for waterskiing and sailing during spring, summer and autumn.
For further information please visit en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lake_Jindabyne
A Prowling Affair
“A time for everything: A time to relax, and a time to be busy. A time to frolic and a time to labor. A time to give and a time to receive. A time to give, a time to begin and a time to finish.”
…Jonathon Lockwood Huie
“A time to lose and a time to gain. And for all these things, there is a first time, which is now.”
…Unknown
I’ve never cared for the rather unimaginatively given name of
“Pickpocket.”
Personally, I prefer the term “lifter” as a more adequately descriptive definition of what I was really into at the time.
Lifting as in from a pocket, purse, and beyond.
Beyond being lifting something specifically being worn by the person, such as a watch, bracelet, brooch, necklace, and even earring(s).
But then, that is just me being me.
So those statements being said, they are not really important to this story I am about to tell. For it was this occasion that “lifted” me into a whole different level of thievery.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I was at one of my favorite haunts, a wedding reception. This one is very upscale and quite richly delicious.
Almost like I had walked into the aftermath of two rooms being completely dumped onto a third one full of people. One room was full of expensive designer attire, the other full of over-the-top expensive jewellery.
Hopefully, you get the picture of what I was seeing.
I was dressed for an evening out, wearing a sexily short-skirted black satin dress with loose ruffles down the open neckline, a gold belt, and gold dangling earrings. My long red hair was straight down with a curl at the ends. I carried my long black velvet shoulder purse.
The reception was supposed to be a private affair but had so many guests that it was not hard for strangers like myself to mingle in.
It was a late evening affair, held in the huge basement area of a five-star hotel, with an interior entrance and one large exterior front entrance. Both of which had manned security booths set up. However, in the far backside, we’re two long corridors. One had the ladies' loo and a door at the end that led to outside gardens. The other contained the gentleman’s loo with a door at the end leading to a back parking lot, not fenced in.
Neither outside door was watched, or locked. And people were going in and out of those doors regularly. Didn’t make much sense not to be watched, but that was how I gained a surprisingly easy entry.
Cautiously I entered, immediately spying a pair of sweet sixteeners coming out of the loo ahead of me. They definitely were not sisters. They were also definitely royally decked out. Both were wearing long sequined satin gowns(blue and peach)with matching gloves. The gowns were fitted, designer, made, and had obviously been bridesmaid’s dresses for a different wedding each. Both wore their long silky hair elegantly up, held by mother-of-pearl clasps. The twittering pair also were jewelled up, sporting sweet gleaming sets of real matched pearls that swayed with a mesmerizing motion to the girl’s perky gait.
They paid no heed to me, and I lazily followed them inside the main chambre.
Contemplating that if the young adults were dolled up like this, what must the legal adults be wearing?
I had my answer soon enough, and my first few minutes inside is what plopped the rooms being dumped together thought of mine which I wrote about at the beginning.
It was delicious, moving in and out as I canvassed the room,admiring the sumptuous attire of the men and ladies present, expensive jewellery beckoning, plump purses, and fat wallets invitingly everywhere. I was ever on the lookout for opportunities to use my skilled fingers over.
My first opportunity looked to come my way as I whimsically found myself following a short brunette wearing a simply lovely gown that I actually owned a non-designer version of in the same colour , which is what caught my eye.
It was a green gown with a tight velvet bodice and free-falling taffeta skirt. I wish I looked as good in my copy as she did in her fitted one.
She was handsomely sporting a dazzling teardrop emerald pendant surrounded by diamonds hanging from a solid gold braided chain. It was bouncing from her perky breasts as she walked, creating quite the taunting show.
I could well imagine myself looking into a mirror wearing my version of that gown while also wearing that emerald and diamond set pendant.
As a plus, her long hair was up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore. Since I was still getting my feet wet, I was content with just stalking and seeing if it led to something.
It did, but not for her necklace.
As I was following the brunette I spotted a gorilla of a man wearing a far too-tight tux. He was showing off by lifting a squealing lady over his head like one would lift a set of weights.
Three of the lady's girlfriends, dressed in gowns of lavender, maroon, and neon lime, formed a half circle as they all watched laughing, pushing, and pawing against one another’s well-dressed figures as they cheered the bloke on.
With a twinge of reluctance, I decided to pass on the brunette for this much easier opportunity.
So I left her to go on her hip-swaying way, then got in with the half circle of sumptuously dressed ladies and joined in with the touchy-feely fun.
As he was bending over to put her down, I saw his jacket was lifted exposing a thick wallet now protruding from his hip pocket.
The girl joined her friends and as the “gorilla” watched with a half-pleased smile, I left them and walked past him, patting him on the rear with a slight squeeze.
I easily helped his wallet out the rest of the way as I patted his rear while saying to the prat’s backside…
“That has to be more fun than working out in a gym, eh laddie?”
Ok, so that was picking a pocket. But I still prefer the phrase lifting.
As in the solid silver Cartier watch, and the loosely worn emerald gemstone cocktail ring I lifted off two of the three watchers as we giggled together, and I happily stroked my fingers along their too soft sleek gowned, giggly warm, unsuspecting bodies.
With three scores now under my belt, my fingers deliciously tingled as I continued meandering my way amongst the happily partying guests, biding my time as I enjoyed the showy glamour of the reception halls’ guests.
The first dance time for the Bride and her Consort came.
Lights dimmed.
I began pressing up from behind against the couples in front. Seeing a sea of arms wrapped around silken waistlines. I eased off a man’s Rolex from his wrist as he held it against his wife’s satin-gowned waist. Similarly, I then relieved a lady’s gloved wrist of a gold jewelled bracelet as I pressed the fingers of my free hand against the side of her delightfully tingling feeling taffeta gown. My apologies to her were accepted as my other hand pocketed the bracelet.
Then as the wedding party held the floor, another hip pocket of a male watcher was relieved of a fat billfold.
Two picks and a lift for you language police out there.
Then the dance area, with the lights still dimmed, erupted as couples swarmed onto the floor. I went with the flow. Lifting a plump wallet from a swinging purse in the process as I cut through.
I then stationed myself in the outskirts watching the dancers. A fast dance tune started up and many of the men retreated leaving mostly ladies in shiny flowing gowns and swinging long shimmery skirts gyrating and jostling to the fast beat.
I spotted a lady wearing a taffeta gown with a diamond broach holding at the side of her waist.
I started to swing to the beat myself, wading in.
I worked my way to her, passing in the process the two sweet sixteen-year-olds and their swinging ropes of pearls. Brushing alongside them I spotted my prey. I zeroed in and jostled against her sweaty figure. Managing to easily pluck off her pricey broach as I slipped past.
Love the feel of an expensive taffeta gown.
I briefly considered leaving at that point. But there was still one traditional part of the reception I was waiting for, the Bride’s Bouquet throw.
Think of the potential.
A group of jostling, well-dressed ladies all focused on one thing. With someone like myself focused on another. There is no other opportunity like this, with the possible exception of midnight on New Year’s when the lights are dimmed over a swarming sea of guests.
So I behaved myself, catching a smoke and a free drink as I waited with anticipation.
Finally, it was announced and all of us single girls went out onto the dance floor.
I watched and like a lioness in the bush, circled around in the back.
I saw a young lady of twelve coming out to take part. She was a darling, dollied and dressed up like an adult. She was wearing blue mascara, that matched the colour of the long flowing blue satin gown she adorably was wearing. A fancy Long rhinestone necklace of diamonds and sapphires, were glistening down the front of her gown as she boldly made her way in.
When she passed me I cut her off and bumped right into her. As she wobbled on her blue leather pumps, my right hand shot up, lifting the front of her necklace as my left unsnapped the simple clasp. I pulled her necklace off with my right hand as she went off an apologetic ”Sorry miss ” like it had been her fault.
I had taken her necklace because I felt peeved that anyone not of marrying age would feel she should be allowed to take part, spoiling the tradition. Like having a cap and gown graduation for preschoolers, complete with diplomas. Kinda of ruins the meaning for those of us graduating after long years of schooling.
Sorry, but really, was a twelve-year-old going to be the one to marry next?
Oh by the by, the young girl's obviously wealthy mum was not wearing jewellery, otherwise, I would have targeted her instead to make my silent point.
So after that random encounter, I went back on the prowl, quickly choosing a likely victim and legitimately eligible participant.
I happily positioned myself.
The girl I had chosen was a tall thin blonde tightly encased in a white silk dress. Her jewels consisted mostly of 14K gold chains. Except for a gold tennis bracelet set with diamonds and rubies which is what I had my sights on.
Then, who should pop up next to the blonde? Why it was the short brunette wearing that simply lovely green velvet and taffeta gown like the one I had back in my closet at the flat.
Also wearing that delectable dazzling pendant.
I had not seen her since I had first started to follow her, and truth be told, had almost forgotten all about her.
I immediately wedged against the girl next to me(a nice lady in a silk gown with pearls) and got behind the brunette
The brunette chick's hair was still up, exposing the gold clasp of the necklace she wore, with that expensively flashy jewelled pendant at its bottom. She was short, the neckline of her gown coming up to my chin. It was now all a matter of timing.
As the bridal bouquet of roses was thrown and everyone lunged forward my fingers snaked up the backside of her soft gown and reaching the necklace I lifted the clasp and with a perfectly executed lift, opened it, slipping off her necklace almost before her high-heeled feet were firmly back on the ground.
I pulled away with my prize. And she with hers, for my victim had actually been the one catching the bouquet.
I turned, almost bumping into the pair of sweet sixteens in the satin bridesmaids' gowns who had been standing off to one side of us trying their luck at catching the bouquet.
We exchanged smiles and actually started walking off in the same direction. I pulled back and discreetly followed them.
Watching with interest as their gowns were richly fluttering along their svelte youthfully pointed figures. They then entered the same back corridor where I had first encountered them.
I saw one pulling out a pack of cigarettes as they whispered between themselves.
Happily, I overheard that they were sneaking off for a smoke.
For I saw opportunity knocking.
Following the girls I stood at the door of the loo as they slipped out the back door.
I turned and followed.
I was anticipating a chance to use their fear of being caught by me outside smoking, to allow me to chum right in and once I told them I saw no reason why they shouldn’t be smoking, receive relieved hugs from them as I left. Relieving each of them in turn by trimming off some of their pearled baubles.
At least that was the scenario that played out in my head.
One that had worked for me before. Except for that last time, three well-dressed younger ladies had been outside sneaking drinks from a flask. A pair of diamond earrings, a gold braided necklace, and a stunning diamond pin, had been my relieving picks from them.
So deciding that an opportunity for a pearl lift may be at hand I circled out and just followed the giggling and smoke signals emitting from their hidden roost.
I maneuvered up, unseen, behind them. And once again, I was that lioness hidden in the bush, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
As I waited, watching their adorably gowned and pearled figures as they giggled and gabbed on freely, I easily overheard the pair of sweet ones talking about their planned sleepover at the one girl's house.
The pretty pair were going to be alone since both parents were staying overnight at the hotel next to the reception.
I thought to myself how lovely it would be to burgle that house. To acquire all of the girl's delicious pearls, and possibly more?!
Then an epiphany as new as it was intriguing shot into my mind.
Why not try it?
I already had a nice haul for the evening. So if I could not pull it off I stood to lose nothing.
It was a gamble I was willing to take.
I stood there and watched, listened until the pair finished and swished their way back inside, none the wiser that they(and their pricy jewellery)had been watched in close proximity by a thief.
In a total bit of whimsy I went back to my sports coupe parked across an empty street from the lot. Once there I lit a cigarette of my own and stood vigil over the back parking lot.
There I could see several fancy cars parked. Including the fire-red Porsche that I had learned the one girl would be driving herself and her friend home in for their sleepover. The sports car was a sixteenth birthday gift from her parents.
All I received on my sweet sixteen was a summons to the head mistress’s office.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
It was nearly two hours before I spied the fetchingly pretty pair walking out across that parking lot, smoking cigarettes like petite geysers.
They were vulnerably alone, their shiny long gowns flowing along svelte youthful figures with an air of elegance that called out to be noticed.
And with those gorgeous pearls, they were wearing, both clueless chicks presented a pair of prettily attired targets for a thief.
Fortunately, there were no muggers around. Only me, a thief with quite different aspirations on acquiring pearls this evening.
Seeing the girls leaving I got in my coupe and followed the red Porsche as it turned the corner.
It was easy to follow them. The driver was inexperienced enough not to have a lead foot.
The Porsche finally turned into the secluded driveway leading to a large two-story gothic stone structure, with small balconies outside the upper floor windows. As was a common sight with these large houses, a metal flower trellis reached up one side in between two balconies.
I found a place to pull over and quickly got out to sneak up and scout the grounds surrounding the house.
I saw a light go on upstairs, conveniently on the trellis side. Thankful my dress was tightly form-fitting, I went over and climbed up far enough to peek inside the upper-floor window
It was a bedroom, walls painted pink. Both girls were inside, starting to undress. Totally so into themselves that the pretty things had no idea a thief was eyeing them with sinister intent.
Licking my lips I watched the pair removing thier delicious pearls and piling them up on the vanity next to an open oak jewellery case, the contents shimmering in the light.
Then they pulled off their gloves and slipped out of their gowns, wearing only long slinking silk slips. Both girls, long hair now down, slipped into fancy satin robes and giggling, headed out the door.
I slipped back down the trellis and skirted the house. A light in the basement came on.
Crouching in the shadows I peeked in. The handsomely satin-wrapped pair were sitting on a couch in the furnished basement. Passing back and forth a clear bottle containing an amber-coloured liquor. Scotch I presumed.
Seeing they were becoming quickly intoxicated, I rose and with a feeling of utter confidence, went back to the trellis and climbed back up to the window.
It was conveniently left unlatched.
Piece of cake this burgling business apparently could be.
Turned out, It was a piece of cake.
Beginner’s luck, we’ll see.
I slipped over the sill and into the bedroom they had changed in.
The young lady's pearls piled on a vanity, next to the open jewellery case were my first target.
As the clueless young pair in the furnished basement was getting drunk, I put on a pair of satin evening gloves found on one of the gowns and lifted(or picked) the bedroom clean of valuables.
No persnickety housemaid could have done a more efficient job of picking clean that bedroom, or as quickly, as I did that early morning.
Then I left the room to hit the parent’s master bedroom.
It was the one on the opposite side of the hallway.
Inside I found a tall Jewelry Armoire. I opened it up and my eyes were dazzled by the display of pricy day jewelry it held. Or had held for another ten minutes until I emptied its contents into my already bulging purse.
I knew the mum would be wearing the good stuff at the wedding, the rest may be inside a safe, which was beyond my skill level in picking.
I briefly wondered if the owner of the red Porsche knew her parent's safe combination.
I thought of taking the time to find out. But shook my head no. Time to skedaddle.
Then I saw it. In my rush, I had almost missed a solitary piece of jewellery laying out on a nightstand.
It was a dazzler. An almost 7-centimeter wide bracelet, set with 7 strands of diamonds. Three strands of round stones each flanking a centre strand of pear-shaped stones. Vulgarly expensive.
But why was it out? A trap?
I edged up to the nightstand and looked around. Nothing else appeared out of place.
Except for that expensively flashy diamond bracelet.
Looking around, I carefully eased it off the nightstand. Nothing happened, not that I knew what could have happened.
I stuffed the bracelet inside my purse, still looking warily around.
I shrugged my feelings of danger off and left the room. Though perhaps a tad bit quicker than necessary.
I went back to the pink bedroom, then climbed back out the window and down the metal trellis
I stopped by the basement window for one last peek. The young shiny attired darlings were intensely hugging each other. The bottle of scotch was now almost empty.
Suddenly a naughty picture popped inside my head, with no proper rhyme, nor reason.
In that picture, I saw the pair still dressed voluptuously up in their satin gowns, tied up gagged, and sinister hands groping as the haplessly squirming sweet sixteeners were being relieved of pearls. Then long feminine fingers were tickling in the girl’s sensitive areas until a safe opening combination was coughed up.
It was a picture that would not go away. I shook my head to get them out and left.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I ruined the dress I was wearing, but I realized I had gotten away with enough small pricey valuables that gave me a profit that more than doubled my pickings combined over the previous 4 months.
As I drove home I experienced such a rush of euphoria that I decided the experience just had to be relived.
When I got back to my rooms, I changed into my satin pjs and empty my purse onto the black satin sheets of my bed.
I lifted the pearls and couldn’t stop fingering them as my euphoria overwhelmed me with sweeping hot flashes of giddiness over my accomplishments.
It was a lovely feeling. Both sensuous and a bit of hard sexual desires.
Not really sure where the bound and gagged fantasy picture came from. Or what it was foretelling if anything.
But the reality of tonight’s experience lay in glittering heaps on my black satin sheets.
I picked up the far to valuably shimmering diamond bracelet.
Pondering.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
I bring that last memory up because years later I may have found out why the diamond bracelet had been left out.
For apparently some of the ultra-wealthy, as a ruse, will leave out several pieces of valuable jewels as a deterrent. Hoping the inexperienced thief will grab those and flee without searching further. Which is exactly what I did.
It also means that those two sweet sixteeners may have been the only barrier between me and a potentially small fortune in hidden jewels.
So maybe that fantasy vision I had about tickling to find a safe combination could have been an unrealized sixth sense moment?
One never knows.
Fini
These chaps receive a very bad press that in my opinion is unwarranted,
If left alone they will not attack and in my experience it is when you approach the nest that you are likely to be attacked so simply do not go near the nest.
So industrious and not distracted by anything even other insects feeding on the same flower head and of course the old lady standing motionless clicking away.
Maybe time to think again about hornets?
Playful Southern White Rhino Calf at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park Receives Name: Future
Name Celebrates the Hope She Brings to Future Rhino Conservation Worldwide
A 19-day-old southern white rhino calf at the San Diego Zoo Safari Park ventured into the sunshine this morning (Monday, Dec. 9), enjoying a reprieve from the recent rains and exploring the mud puddles the rains left behind. While mom Amani enjoyed her breakfast, the little calf explored the maternity yard, running, splashing and rolling in the mud. Wallowing in mud is a natural behavior for rhinos. They coat themselves with a thick layer of mud that helps act as a sunscreen and bug repellent, and helps to keep them cool.
The playful calf was recently given the name Future in honor of a strong female leader and past president of a privately held family foundation, which has generously supported reproductive research since 1979 and the Nikita Kahn Rhino Rescue Center, in recent years. Future is San Diego Zoo Global’s 100th southern white rhino born at the Safari Park, and she is only the second calf in North America to be born following hormone-induced ovulation and artificial insemination. Her name celebrates these monumental milestones—and the hope she brings to the future of rhino conservation worldwide.
Photo taken Dec. 9, 2019 by Ken Bohn, San Diego Zoo Safari Park.
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AP PERMITTED USE: On Monday, Dec. 9, 2019, I provided to AP one or more photographs for distribution by AP to its subscribers and customers for editorial publication. I acknowledge that I am a representative of the copyright owner of the photograph(s) furnished to AP, and that I have an agreement or other written authorization with or from the copyright owner or the owner's authorized agent to furnish the photograph(s) to AP for editorial publication by AP and its subscribers and customers in all media now known or hereafter created. That the content is a factually accurate rendering of what it depicts and has not been modified or augmented except for standard cropping and toning.”
. . . To receive the full value of joy, you must have someone to share it with
~ Mark Twain as quoted in the 2006 edition of The Joy of Cooking.
"That which thy fathers have bequeathed to thee, earn it anew if thou wouldst possess it"
~ Goethe: Faust as quoted in the 1975 edition of the Joy of Cooking.
The June selection for my Page 233 Cookbook Project is a triple treat because I have three editions of The Joy of Cooking by Irma Rombauer. In the 1946 edition, she writes in the Foreword, "Although I have been modernized by life and my children, my roots are Victorian. This book reflects my life. It once was merely a private record of what the family wanted, of what friends recommended and of dishes made familiar by foreign travel and given an acceptable Americanization." She includes a Preface to the 1943 Edition, "At the request of my children, who were leaving home, I began a record of 'what Mother used to make.' They thought, correctly that the work involved would help me tide over a period of loneliness."
It is refreshing to see things from her perspective. Especially these days. Someone who during the darkest times in her life became a light for so many others. It makes me happy that her family has carried on the tradition with subsequent editions.
The editions I have are from 1946, 1975 and 2006. I bought the 1975 edition back in the 80's because it had a good recipe for Cream Cheese Cookies. The 1946 edition came from my Mom's things. It was probably one she picked up at an estate sale and it has some additional ephemera treasures someone included. The 2006 edition, I added to my collection then.
From the 1946 edition, I chose Fish Cooked in Parchment Paper. I used a Striped Sea Bass. It was simple to make and it came out nicely.
From the 1975 edition, I chose Fish Timbale. Timbale means thimble. The recipe calls for the custard to be put in a 9 inch mold. I used two smaller ones instead. Although the Timbale was edible, it unfortunately was not photo-worthy. I think I'll save my molds for Angel Food cakes :-)
From the 2006 edition, I chose Stuffed Pears. Those came out heavenly! They can be served warm or cold.
There's another kind of Timbale.
✽
Fortunately we receive few mailshots. However, this was a very strange and utterly pointless one!
Firstly, Sherborne is approximately 27 miles away, inland from the coast. That is casting an estate agent's / realtor's net pretty wide for business.
Secondly, a modicum of research would show the approximate current resale value of where we live is well under £200,000. For comparison, Rightmove ( a big UK agency) have calculated the average property price in Dorset for the last year as £376,546 ($457,555) i.e approximately twice the value of our abode.
Thirdly, look below and you'll see the other half of the mailshot lists four properties they have listed (not even in Dorset!) that we might like to buy. The cheapest is £925,000. The most expensive is £2,850,000. So we would need to sell five of our current homes to bid for even the cheapest on offer and around 15 homes for the most expensive.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hengistbury_Head
Hengistbury Head /ˈhɛŋɡəstbri/ is a headland jutting into the English Channel between Bournemouth and Mudeford in the English county of Dorset. It is a site of international importance in terms of its archaeology and is scheduled as an Ancient Monument.[1] Declared a Local Nature Reserve in 1990, the head and its surroundings form part of the Christchurch Harbour Site of Special Scientific Interest.[2] It is also a Special Area of Conservation, Special Protection Area, an Environmentally Sensitive Area and a Site of Nature Conservation Interest.[3] The name "Hengistbury Head" refers to the immediate area; the elevated portion is called Warren Hill.
There has been human activity on the site since the Upper Palaeolithic; during the Victorian era, it was heavily quarried, and in recent years tourism has become significant – it receives over a million visitors annually. The various habitats on the Head provide a home for many plants, birds and insects, some of them rare and critically endangered. Erosion remains a threat to the site, although long-term projects are intended to secure it for the future.
Location
After the counties were redesignated in 1974, the site has been considered part of Dorset. The isolated building near the centre of the image (labelled "Summer House") is the thatched barn still at the Head. The barn forms part of the new visitor centre.
Hengistbury Head is a sandstone headland forming part of Southbourne, which is a suburb of the town of Bournemouth to the west; the nearest major settlement is Christchurch to the north. It is the most easterly part of the Borough of Bournemouth, and marks the most easterly point of Poole Bay. Historically part of Hampshire, the Local Government Act 1972 designated the area a part of Dorset. The northern slope of the hill tailing off towards the sea forms Mudeford spit, the sand bar closing Christchurch Harbour from the south.
Buildings
The spit is home to more 300 privately owned beach-huts, one of which in 2012 became one of the UK's most expensive, selling for £170,000 just two days after being put on the market.[4] The hut measures a little over five by three metres, has no running water, and the occupants may only stay overnight from March to October. Despite the relative lack of amenities, the area has become one of the UK's most desirable; huts are rented out for up to £600 a week.[5]
The Black House, a local landmark, stands at the end of the spit, opposite Mudeford Quay, site of the Battle of Mudeford in 1784. Built in 1848, it was once a boat-builders' house, but is now rented out to holidaymakers.[6] It has served a variety of functions over the years, and is commonly associated with the area's smuggling past.[7]
Toponymy
Mentioned as Hednesburia in a church deed of the early 12th century, and referred to as Hynesbury Head in the 17th, Hengistbury only took on its current spelling in the 19th century, during a period of what archaeologist Barry Cunliffe calls "antiquarian romanticism".[8] Many prehistoric sites around this time were renamed to link them with historical figures.[8] It was thought at the time that the legendary Anglo-Saxon leader Hengist could be buried here, as he was said to have been laid to rest in an unlocated mound. Twentieth-century excavations have established that the tumuli at Hengistbury Head date to the Bronze Age however.[9]
History
Hengistbury Head is home to a plethora of nationally and internationally significant archaeological sites, with features dating from the Late Upper Palaeolithic to the Roman settlement of Britain, earning the site Scheduled Ancient Monument status.[10] Interest in the site declined throughout the Dark Ages, until extensive development took place in Christchurch around 890 AD, when the Head may have been used as a lookout post. The area was heavily quarried during the Victorian period and nowadays receives over a million visitors annually.[11]
Stone Age
Several archaeological digs have revealed that the site was occupied during the Upper Palaeolithic.[12] There is evidence of an open settlement of the Creswellian culture on the hill in the middle of the headland dating to around 14,100 years ago. With over 13,000 lithic artefacts it is probably the largest site of the period.[13][14] Most interesting were several blades typically found at Upper Paleolithic sites across Europe, but rarely seen outside of caves in the UK, where open air sites of this age are extremely rare.[15] People at the Head were heavily involved with the production of blades, further excavations identified 649 tools, dominated by backed blades, endscrapers and burins.[16]
At the time the Warren Hill would have overlooked a large river valley that was to become the English Channel. Once the sea had inundated the surrounding valley, Mesolithic hunter gatherers exploited the site. Pollen analysis of peat from the Solent bed suggest a lightly wooded headland free of close-knit undergrowth during this period, an ideal habitat for game.[17]
Bronze Age
In Bronze Age Britain this was an important seaport.[18] Eleven Bronze Age Britain round barrows sit on the promontory with two more a little further inland. Eleven of the round barrows were excavated; three by Bushe Fox in 1911–12 and eight by Harold St George Gray in 1919 and 1922.[9][19] Two appear to be undisturbed. Numerous finds including Early Bronze Age axes and cremation urns were recovered from these tumuli, which have been consistently found to be between 3500 and 4000 years old.[9]
One of the barrows (south of where the thatched barn now stands)[20] contained a high status cremation of a woman of about twenty years in age, accompanied by an incense cup, a halberd-style pendant made from amber and copper alloy, and two gold cones that would have covered buttons of an organic material.[21] The burial-goods recovered are similar to those of the Wessex culture, the Wilsford and Dorset Ridgeway series in particular.[20] An urn from one of the barrows likely to have been made between 1700 and 1500 B.C., has been identified as Trevisker ware, a type widely found throughout Devon and Cornwall which was transported east in lesser amounts, this find being one of the easternmost discovered.[22]
Iron Age
In Iron Age Britain around 700 BC, a settlement on the Head was established;[23] also around this time, the headland was cut off from the mainland by the construction of two banks and ditches called the Double Dykes, similar to those found at Maiden Castle.[24] The earthworks consisted of an inner bank three metres high, with a ditch three and a half metres deep. An outer ditch six metres wide and two metres in depth is now obscured due to wind-blown deposits of sand and a gradual silting process.[25] These defences turned Hengistbury Head into a fortified settlement area which seems to have grown over succeeding centuries until it became an important port.[26] The Iron Age port at Hengistbury Head forms a final site in a small chain of fortified earthworks, starting from Hambledon Hill, and also including Hod Hill, Spetisbury Rings, Buzbury Rings, Badbury Rings and Dudsbury Camp.[27]
John Lavender of the local Red House Museum noted evidence of small iron-ore smelting hearths on Warren Hill, while green vitreous slag has been also found on the Head.[28] In his 1911 to 1912 excavations, Bushe-Fox found evidence for working of lead, copper and silver; two ingots discovered at this time revealed that raw materials would have been imported to the area.[28] One ingot was of nearly pure copper, while the other, which weighed 8.6 kg, was roughly 50/50 copper-silver alloy with around one percent gold.[29] Argentiferous (i.e. silver-bearing) copper was refined to produce silver at the Head.[29] There are also indications that gold was worked at Hengistbury.[30] One excavation produced part of a torc, twisted together with a small gold bracelet and another fragment in a manner suggesting it was scrap; a different site produced a streaked touchstone indicating use in gold testing.[30]
Thousands of bronze coins have been found from the pre-Roman period, the vast majority having been struck by the Durotriges.[31] The abundance of coins, together with various hearths and smelting artefacts found within a close proximity suggest that the Durotrigan finds were minted here.[32]
International trade centre
The advanced level of metallurgy in the area, coupled with its ease of access from the Continent, meant that Hengistbury Head became a significant Late-Iron Age port; trading worked metal of iron, silver, and bronze in return for figs, glass, tools and other goods. Armorican coins and pottery uncovered here show links to the Brittany peninsula.[33] Amphorae used for the transportation of North Italian wine have been found in such quantities (more than all other sites in the south of England put together), that it is clear that the Head was a main port of entry into the country.[34] However, no similar amphorae have been unearthed in Armorica, hinting at a more direct trade route between Hengistbury Head and Italy.[34] Most of these vessels date from before 50 B.C., while later styles are absent despite being common in other parts of Britain, indicating the wine trade seems to have declined at about the time Caesar began his Gaulish campaigns.[35]
Roman occupation to Medieval period
After the Roman conquest, the south-east of England started to develop into a more urban economy, while the socio-economic system of the south-west remained little changed.[36] Hengistbury would still have served as an important hub for the Dumnonii of Cornwall and Devon, and the Durotriges of Wiltshire and Dorset; since transport by water was more efficient at the time, and the Head offered both a coastal route, and freshwater options via the Stour and Avon rivers.[36]
No evidence of Saxon use has been found at the Head.[37] The area was not substantially reoccupied until Alfred the Great decided to rebuild the harbour as a defence against raiders. He built the town that later became Christchurch, on the north side of the harbour. Access to Salisbury up the River Avon made this a more strategic place. The Head may have been used for harbour defence at this time. In the 11th century, some of the iron-ore rich stones found at the Head were used in the construction of Christchurch Castle. These reddish-coloured stones can still be seen in the base of the now ruined castle.[38]
17th, 18th and 19th centuries
In the late 1600s, Andrew Yarranton (with backing from the Earl of Clarendon) commenced a scheme to improve the harbour. In 1693 a channel was cut out to sea, whilst ironstone boulders from the head were used to create a pier.[39] The plans proved ineffective; the pier was poorly positioned and subsequent storms (including the Great Storm of 1703) soon undid most of the work although parts of the pier known as "Clarendon's Jetty" or the "Long Rocks" are still visible today.[40] Many tons may have been removed from the beach and the head itself to make the jetty.[41]
In 1733 a new Excise and Customs Bill was introduced, restricting imports and raising taxes on many luxury items. Christchurch rapidly became a hot-bed for smugglers, where they were known as "freetraders", and much of the town was involved in the trade. The "Double Dykes" are said to have been used to hide contraband,[42] while Mudeford spit is rumoured to have been used in the construction of "Guinea boats" (cheaply built galleys sometimes capable of outrunning the day's steamships).[43][44] One apocryphal story is that the black house acquired its distinctive black colour when customs officers tried to smoke out some holed-up smugglers by lighting fires around the base.[43] The house was constructed in 1848 and used by shipwrights as a dwelling and workshop, smuggling was in decline with the introduction of a free trade policy and more effective measures being implemented by the Coast Guard by this time, so the house may not in fact have had much involvement in smuggling. The spit has a long association with shipbuilding with two large ships being built in the mid 19th century, the "Viscountess Canning" of 193 tons and the "Enterprise" 253 tons.[6]
From 1848 to 1872, the Hengistbury Mining Company – formed by a Christchurch-based merchant, John E. Holloway – extracted many more ironstone boulders through quarrying. Holloway brought coal from Southampton, and took the ironstone as ballast for the return journey.[45] These boulders, known as Iron Doggers, were prized for their high quantity of iron ore (up to 30%).[46] They form the base of Hengistbury Head, and the removal of a substantial amount of doggers over the years has weakened the headland. These and earlier excavations resulted in a loss of up to a third of the Head, caused mainly by erosion after the quarry's closure. The silt being washed down also threatened the ecology of the saltmarsh below. This has been reduced by the building of a dam, in 1976, to create a pool. Many "doggers" can still be seen lining the route of the land-train and at the quarry.[46]
UK's first airshow
In 1910 the first international aviation meeting ever held in Britain took place on a specially laid out aerodrome consisting of a mile of grassland between the "Double Dykes" and the nearby village of Tuckton. About twenty pioneer aviators from around the world participated in various competitions including spot landing, altitude tests and speed trials (both for the fastest and slowest circuit).[47]
On the second day of the meeting, co-founder of Rolls-Royce and pioneer aviator Charles Rolls was thrown from his plane, which disintegrated beneath him. Despite the fact that the first-ever powered flight had occurred only seven years previously, Rolls had been attempting a precision landing. He died from his injuries shortly after his fall.[48] The event was Britain's earliest fatal flying accident involving a powered aircraft.[47]
20th century
There were a number of development schemes for the head including a major railway and docks scheme proposed in 1885, proposals for housing and a golf course were also put forward before World War I, though none of these schemes came to fruition.[49] In 1919 the head was sold by Sir George Meyrick to Harry Gordon Selfridge with plans to construct a grand house. These plans also came to nothing, apart from the establishment of a nursery garden.[50] Bournemouth Borough Council purchased the head in 1930 for £25,200;[51] although plans for housing existed west of double dykes, the head itself was to be kept as public open space. During World War II the head was closed to the public and was occupied by the army, becoming home to a number of installations including a radar station. The area was also extensively mined. The Head was finally cleared of the military defences by the 1950s.[52]
Present day
Hengistbury Head Local Nature Reserve is currently owned and managed by Bournemouth Borough Council. In 1990, the land was declared a Local Nature Reserve, as a commitment by the town of Bournemouth to conserve and enhance the environment.[53] The heathland forms part of the Dorset Heaths and is internationally protected as a Special Area of Conservation and Special Protection Area. Nearby, the upper reaches of Christchurch Harbour (including the meadows at Wick) are recognised as an Environmentally Sensitive Area.[53]
The head today is used for a variety of reasons. Firstly it is a tourist spot where country walks can be taken all over the head due to the well defined gravel paths, some of which form part of the Bournemouth Coast Path.[54] In 2008, many paths were resurfaced, making more (though not all) parts of the Head wheelchair accessible. For example, it is now possible to gain wheelchair access to Quarry Pool. Regular field trips to the site are made by students of all ages and there are occasional guided tours or meetings around the Head covering a wide variety of subjects.[3]
There is a cafe at the bottom of the Head on the Bournemouth side. Hengistbury Head Outdoor Education centre is located near here on the south shore of the harbour. Run by Brockenhurst College, the centre offers a variety of water and outdoor activities.[55] A scenic land train (known as "the Noddy train") makes regular journeys from the cafe to the end of the spit, a journey of ten or so minutes.[56] On the head itself is a H. M. Coastguard radio relay station, a nature reserve and a triangulation pillar, shown on Ordnance Survey maps as 36 metres above sea level. Ample parking (subject to charges) can be found near the cafe, but the Head is also within walking distance of Southbourne and parts of Christchurch.
The Quarry Pool is now a significant part of the nature reserve features of the Head. While it was very acidic in the early years, since 1990 it has allowed the growth of a significant number of plant and insect species, as well as mallard and little grebe. The insects provide valuable food for migrating sand martins and swallows.[57]
Visitor centre
A new visitor centre for Hengistbury Head is scheduled to open by the end of 2013. Developments are currently underway on the thatched barn, which is being made in an eco-friendly way.[58] the new addition will cost over a million pounds with funding provided by developer contributions, the Heritage Lottery Fund and £300,000 from landfill tax.[58]
The centre will house a new display area concerning the site's archaeology, ecology and geology,[59] while work space will be created for volunteers and other community groups such as the Hengistbury Head Supporters Group, Residents' Association and Christchurch Harbour Ornithological Group.[3] The public will have the chance to scrutinise a selection of the finds discovered at Hengistbury Head in the last century, and to interact with experienced staff, as well as providing them with the opportunity to become actively involved in the administration of the nature reserve.[59]
The surrounding area will be extensively landscaped to create outdoor learning areas and a wildlife garden.[60] Energy-saving features will include photovoltaic panels for electricity and ground source heat pump for heating. A green roof (a living roof that is partially or completely covered with vegetation and a growing medium), will be used to absorb rainfall and provide insulation.[58] The centre will be constructed using timber-frame walls insulated with straw bales.[58]
Geography
According to Ian West of Southampton University, "Hengistbury Head is the best part of the Bournemouth coast for geology and geomorphology .... [and] is geologically important for the unusual nodules of sideritic ironstone [found] in Middle Eocene strata."[61] The exposed and relatively untouched cliff face at the Head perfectly lends itself to students of stratigraphy. Warren Hill itself is composed of Tertiary Bracklesham Beds,[62] a mixture of clays and marls with overlying sandy and lignitic beds.
Erosion
One serious threat to the future of the Head is erosion of the exposed southern cliff face from wind and rain, as well as erosion caused by the sea primarily through the process of Longshore drift. A comparison of Ordnance Survey maps reveals that 25 metres of cliff was washed away from 1915 to 1962,[62] a process accelerated by the Bournemouth cliff's concreted promenade and groynes, construction of which started in the early 20th century. It is thought that in the last 200 years around 150 metres of land has been lost from the Head.[62] The first attempt to counteract erosion came in the 1930s when Bournemouth Council constructed a breakwater now known as "the Long Groyne".[63] Since then, a gabion revetment has been constructed to secure the weakest point at the eastern end of the Head.[38] In a long-term project to secure the Head's future, from 2005 to 2008 Poole Bay was replenished with 1.8 million cubic metres of beach material,[64] drawing ire from some surfers and beach lovers owing to the increase in sharp stones on Southbourne beach in particular.[65] The project's organizers, the Poole Bay Partnership, state that: "The resulting wide beaches have been a success in terms of their function as a coast protection structure and for the enjoyment they provide to the area's residents and visitors."[64]
Flora and fauna
Hengistbury Head forms part of the Christchurch Harbour Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI), and in May 1990 was declared a Local Nature Reserve.[66] The Head supports 500 plant species (a quarter of the national flora), including eight red data book species, 14 nationally scarce, and 39 locally rare species. The main nature reserve area faces Christchurch Harbour, and is contiguous with the reed beds of Wick Fields. The Head contains a large variety of habitats from the heathland on Warren Hill to freshwater ponds, sand dunes, and salt marshes. The woodland (known as Withybed Wood) is home to English oak and silver birch amongst many other trees, and is of particular interest, as it is the only such area to be shown on an 1811 O.S. map of the Bournemouth/Christchurch area.[66] In 2002, cattle-grazing commenced in a field near the new visitor centre known as "Barn Field". This, combined with gorse eradication, has assisted in the restoration of this habitat to its ancient character.[67]
Present on the site is Sea knotgrass (Polygonum maritimum), the rarest of the knotgrasses in Britain,[68] and currently listed as a "schedule 8 species" under the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981. Such plants are afforded greater than usual protection against damaging activities – such as "cutting, picking, destroying or selling."[69] The heathland is both a Special Area of Conservation and a Special Protection Area, part of a network of the best wildlife sites in Europe.[66]
The various habitats provide homes to numerous species of insects. There are 700 moth species recorded in the nature reserve, again a quarter of the national total. At different spots across the site butterflies (including the green hairstreak),[70] damselflies (like the large red), and dragonflies (such as the hairy dragonfly) can be observed.[3][66][71] The exceedingly rare thirteen-spotted ladybird (Hippodamia 13-punctata), was recently observed at the Head, the first recorded UK sighting since 1952.[66]
Over 300 bird species have been recorded in the area,[72] making Hengistbury Head an important migratory point. The Balearic shearwater, considered critically endangered with extinction by the IUCN and seldom sighted in the UK, has been seen in the area.[72] Other rare birds spotted here include the purple heron, the pink-footed goose, the European honey buzzard and the melodious warbler.[73] The fields and reserved areas near the car park provide an ideal spot to watch and listen to a significant population of skylarks during the summer months.
In 1989 a project commenced to re-introduce the country's rarest amphibian, the natterjack toad, to Hengistbury Head. The natterjack was last recorded on the headland in the 1950s before its extinction, probably as the result of a lack of suitable ponds.[74] The project has been a great success and today there are thriving populations at various locations.[74] The ideal time to witness their mating rituals is in May as dusk approaches, when the distinctive call of the natterjack can be heard for miles around.