arpeged Resident

 

Details　ENG

Details　JPN

 

Both avator's mine.

There's nothing in the world that loves you

more than the space you already take up.

There's nothing in the world that won't

forget you faster than you forgot

the last person that stepped out from your life.

When the cat reaches up

one needled paw to drag down a book

from your desk, then another,

that's not love—that's dominance.

When you reach up your hand and try to wheedle

someone else's to hold it, that's love

dominating you. There's no word for loving more

than you should, just the feeling of excess,

as if your tongue burst in a rash of red sequins,

as if everyone can see your stutter in the air,

staccato love you, love you, and nothing in the world

standing in that space to receive it.

  

My platforms of inspiration and sponsoring:

t.me/photosophy Photography meets Philosophy 🇺🇸

www.facebook.com/Exquisite.Captivating.Kaleidoscopic Photography meets Philosophy 🇺🇸 + 🇦🇹🇩🇪🇨🇭

www.cash-memes.com Get wealthy with MEMES 🇺🇸

www.mememaster.org Most funny MEME collection 🇺🇸 + 🇦🇹🇩🇪🇨🇭

www.denniseckart.de/ Fitness & Nutrition 🇺🇸 + 🇦🇹🇩🇪🇨🇭 + 🇧🇷🇵🇹

cannergrow.com/r/D5GMZK Smart long- term investment in CBD

You're invited!

 

1. Sign up with my invite link

2. Deposit and buy €250 in any crypto

3. We both get €50.00 free BTC

 

www.luno.com/invite/DCDHM2

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All rights reserved. Copyright ©e-c-k-art

Email: foto@e-c-k-art.de

 

In case you would like to purchase a license, picture or arrange a exhibition please contact me.

 

All my images are protected under international authors copyright laws and may not be downloaded, reproduced, copied, transmitted or manipulated without my written explicit permission

 

Misuse is tracked by my.pixsy.com/register?referralcode=D3AA55D9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do not let a flattering woman coax and wheedle you and deceive you; she is after your barn.

 

--Hesiod

This is a shot taken from one of Blackpools three piers, looking back at the central pier with its Ferris wheel and other attractions, nicely lit up, for a fence shot this is thrown out of focus for some more colourful bokeh.

 

To the left you can just see some of the 10 million pound Blackpool illuminations, which run for 66 nights until this weekend, so if you haven’t been this year now’s your last chance!

 

Should add this was handheld, there were literally dozens of tripod wheedling togs around, it would be nice to see what they captured if you were there on the same evening

 

As always comments, faves and constructive crit. always very welcome, graphics not so much

 

Press L to view in Lightbox

 

Have a great day, and a happy fence Friday!

  

 

We had to stop using the kitchen sink and dishwasher for a few days last week as a leak was discovered in the crawl space beneath our kitchen. Ross sussed out the problem and invited Trystan over to join the festivities. They both put on on coveralls, gloves and face masks, then lay on their bellies to wheedle through the crawl space door. A section of pipe had to be replaced, it took a few hours, and afterwards coffee was desperately needed as a reward and restorative, plumbing is dirty work, especially laying on your back :)

Georgina had got into the crawl space the first day, would not come when we called her, Ross crawled around with the flashlight looking for her, was unsuccessful, we were so worried, so I went and got a crunchy treat bag and crinkled it near the opening ... a few minutes later and she nonchalantly appeared, covered with cobwebs, what a bad girl :) So this day I kept an eye on her while they worked, and she decided to lounge in the plastic tub we put in the sink to catch the water, expressing no interest to re-explore the dark and dirty crawl space, maybe she had met a giant spider that told her to F-OFF :))

A little boy I met when I was passing through a small town in Yuksom, on my way to begin the trek.

 

He looked at me curiously, as if i were an alien. It didn't take to wheedle a smile from the boy when he saw himself on the LCD screen on the camera.

I took another turn with the monthly challenge.

I did a tribute photo from one of my own photos from 52 weeks in 2010 with my dearly departed Myles. The photo of Myles has always been one of my most popular and there are times that Owen does things that are so reminiscent of my heart dog Myles, but with his own individual personality on it. So I decided to do a tribute photo with an Owen spin. There will never be another Myles, but Owen was fortunate to have a little over a year with Myles as his mentor, and for that I will be forever grateful. Each dog has their own way to wheedle a space in your heart, never replacing your former love, but making room for a new, different part of your heart to be opened and filled with love for them. Thank you Owen, for being you and opening up my heart to a new deep kind of love.

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Dog Day Monday again, and seemingly so soon. Maybe I don't have archives that will last me through 2025, but then there have been so many canines that I keep finding so many adorable pups hidden away from before my Flickr days. Today, maybe the best juvenile, is Archie, my brother's last of four Norfolk terriers.

 

Wayback story: My brother and sister-in-law came for a visit seems like yesterday, but it was it was in 1990. My brother, the "rational one," had always been suspicious of dogs, a trait that he got from my mother who was, for whatever reason, afraid of them. My father loved dogs and having nothing to do with DNA, I was determined to have a dog. I brought some "free" kittens home one day, and I found out what a kitten fit was and having a dog of my own would take another 24 years.

 

Move ahead to 1990 when Bob and Jan visited us in Northern California. At the time, we had Max, our Norfolk terrier. Max loved two things, people and food. And, of course, the first person that he was obsessed with was my brother, Bob. The night of "The Great Visit" he spent six or more hours wheedling his way into my brother's heart by licking his head which, if it wasn't bald when he arrived, was by the next morning. (My sister-in-law, Jan, had gotten Max to sleep with them, which was the Great Dog Plot of the Great Visit.)

 

Giggling. All night long, giggling. My brother. Giggling. And Jan seeing me in the hall the next morning, beaming, and saying, and I quote, "We got him!" Two weeks later, after some research, they were back having driven 450 miles to pick up a Norfolk puppy whom my brother named "Duncan." (All four of their now four terriers have been named after Shakespearian characters or English Kings or both.)

 

How lucky that their first was an adorable, sweet-as-can-be Norfolk. Mt brother certainly had brand loyalty. The other Norfolks that followed were Richard, Arthur, and now Archie. As you can see from this photo, Archie, who is now seven, was naturally adorable. Archie, upon seeing a camera, which was daily, would assume the "Archie Pose" that you see here. Archie has been the smartest, most stylish (supposedly, he picked out his own vest), most adorable, dog that has ever lived in a Winning household. My Dad would have loved him, and maybe, just maybe, he would have won over my mother's heart.

 

(Our Sealeyhan, Perky, tried very hard to be friends with my mom when we lived in Oregon and my parents came to visit. Evidently, sneaking into the bedroom where my folks were spending the night, jumping up on the bed with a ball, and even saying "Hiiiii" was not the way to do it. When we had our first daughter whom my mom cherished, but who came with a guardian named "Perky," a truce was declared and I think Mom actually "petted him" after five years. Since Bob and I had two girls, my dad had from day one, already designated him as his "first grandson.")

I seem to need three scenes for my photo adventures. Strawberry Singh's Flat Ebbe Meme is no exception. It occurred to me that the CEOs might want to pal around during their accidental tourism throughout the SL Grid, so I asked Rodvik join us on Mindwalker Beach. Ebbe was pretty silent on the subject, so I didn't wheedle for details. Wherever you've gone, may the odds be ever in your favor, Boys! ｡◕‿◕｡

 

Flat CEOs can be found in Strawberry Singh's Marketplace store.

 

Location: My Mindwalker Beach Home

Hello...!

 

Yay, it's Brickshifter!*

All gold and shiny now!

 

That's not my name! My name is Sunshine!

 

We've been through this.

Yep, you keep coming back,** and we keep calling you Brickshifter because Brickshifter is a much cooler and more appropriate name than 'Sunshine'.

 

That's it! You're getting my origin!

 

GAH!!

They're using their origins as a weapon now!

 

Sunshine (サンシャイン) is a key antagonist towards Kinnikuman, considered by General Devil as the Leader of the elite team of the Devil Knights. Years later, in Kinnikuman Nisei, he became one of the key members of the d.M.p organization, as well as the mentor of Check Mate and Rex King.

 

Sunshine debuts as a member of the elite team of the Devil Knights, and after his defeat at the hands of a mere human, he was then absorbed by General Devil. Later he return alongside Ashuraman, planning to steal the Friendship Power of the Justice Chojin, but both of were defeated in the Tag Tournament.

 

In Kinnikuman 2011, he and the Devil Knights raid the Chojin Graveyard, and he face against one of the Perfect Origin, Thingman, who he manage to defeat. He later stays at General Devil's side for the rest of the matches.

 

After this, he retired from wrestling and was not seen again until Kinnikuman Nisei, in which he trains Check Mate and Rex King, and eventually comes to respect the Justice Chojin on his defeat. It is at this point he explodes the d.M.p base and eradicates all evil chojin, except for one that miraculously survives named Scarface. He is very rarely seen again within the anime or manga.

 

Personality

Overall, Sunshine is like the rest of his comrades: a rude, brute, and merciless fighter that use brutal and dirty tactics to defeat and kill his opponents. He is particularly vicious in this, since it is said that he believes that a match is only won by knocking and opponent while he's out, thus, he never won any championship. He considers himself to not be too smart, and that he tends to forget things a lot, thinking that's the best way to advance as a fighter and as a devil.

 

Despite his brutal and rude ways of fighting, he can also show a softer, more compassionate side, like when he trained with Rollerman in the Arabian Desert, forming a good friendship with him. Or when Kinnikuman opened his eyes during their fight, and saw that the Devil Chojin can have friendship too. This makes him consider Ashuraman as his friend, rather than just his partner-in-crime.

 

Appearance

He is a giant golem-like chojin often with a yellow/golden coloration due his body been made of sand/gold dust, giving him the ability to re-shape himself in different ways, such as a pyramid or a giant top. In his debut he has a rather simplistic body design, consisting in a giant block as his body, with limbs in shape of rectangles, ending in two big hands. His faces has a rather humanoid look.

 

After his defeat at Geronimo's hands, he returns with a slightly altered appearance, now sporting a more elaborate body-design, with the special ability to summon a concrete roller in his chest. By Nisei times, his body has become more slim, as well as loosing one of his "eyes". He also tends to wear some clothing to hide among humans.

 

Relationships

Ashuraman

Sunshine has a strong loyalty to his fellow Devil Knights, but his strongest relationship lies with his friend Ashuraman as he formed a tag team during the Dream Tag Tournament arc. Before Ashuraman's match against the Blood Evolutions in Nisei, Sunshine wants to be his tag partner, but Ashuraman refuses.

 

Rollerman

After finding and spending some time with Rollerman in the Arabian Desert, they become very close, to the point of doing the same routine the same way day after day. Their bond became so strong that Sunshine travels to a near town to rescue Rollerman from some Justice Chojin that were plaining on execute him.

 

Check Mate

Checkmate has a close relationship with Sunshine, who acts as a father-figure to him and a coach. Sunshine unofficially adopts Checkmate during Checkmate's youth, rescuing him from a life on the streets, and delivers strict training to help him become a Brutal Chojin capable of fighting in matches. Sunshine is willing to risk his life to save Checkmate, before taking him to teach him to be a better chojin, after his breakdown. They later meet again during the Demon Seed Arc, where they appear civil and on friendly terms, despite their worldviews now having diverged.

 

General Devil

Although General Devil doesn't show any affection nor respect for his followers, he has said in different occasions that he considers Sunshine like his successor, and the both of them spend time together during the fights at Yggrasil.

 

Abilities

Sunshine has the ability to manipulate and shapeshift into sand. To shapeshifting into other objects, he needs to study and learn the whole object that he wants to emulate. He can also fuse with his fellow Devil Knights to become General Devil's body.

 

Golden Mask Arc

Sunshine appeared as one of the Devil Knights, a group of Devil Chojin who had supposedly stolen the Golden Mask, a sacred relic on Planet Kinniku that was once the head of a god. He fought Geronimo during the Five Story Ring battle within Warsman's unconscious body.

 

A five-tier ring appears, with each ring holding a different opponent. Geronimo fends off The Ninja on the fourth floor, while Kinnikuman climbs the spine to reach the top ring. The Ninja switches places with Sunshine, forcing Geronimo to compete against him. At one point, he skewers the mat with his tomahawks so that Terry - in the ring below - could grab a hold of something during Asuraman’s Asura Buster.

 

In his fight with Sunshine, he started off hitting Sunshine with a fury of Tomahawk Chops.

 

Geronimo lands a Flying Boy Press, but Sunshine counters by bending his legs. Sunshine uses his Sand Hell techniques on Geronimo, and Geronimo uses a Tomahawk Tornado to sweep away the sand. After being pressed into the mat by Sunshine, Geronimo attempts another Tomahawk Chop, but the damage done to Sunshine is undone by his regeneration abilities. The sweat from Geronimo is also absorbed into Sunshine and makes his sand weigh even heavier, as he crushes Geronimo from above.

 

Sunshine prepares for a Back-Drop, and Geronimo breaks his hip attempting to counter with a Flying Maier. Geronimo tries a Guillotine Drop, but Sunshine stops him with a Giant Swing, and Geronimo manages to stop Sunshine with a headbutt, but sustains great damage in the process. Geronimo believes he has won when he chops Sunshine in half, but instead he found himself trapped inside Sunshine.

 

After forcing his way out of Sunshine's body, Sunshine begins to use his most brutal Sand Hell techniques. He uses a Canadian Back-Breaker, while Geronimo counters with a Reverse Suplex, and Sunshine attempts a Mexican Stretch. Geronimo uses a Toe-Kick to shatter Sunshine's body into multiple pieces, and Sunshine uses a Hell's Pyramid. Being severely injured - after having his gut stabbed by Sunshine’s Hell’s Pyramid technique - causes Terryman to realize that Geronimo is human. Geronimo uses a Brain Buster, despite the pyramid piercing his heart.

 

Sunshine rebuilds himself with his Hell Arc de Triumphe. Geronimo smashes Sunshine again, but Sunshine uses a sun-styled key to enter his sun-mark upon his chest, and this regenerates him. Geronimo keeps fighting and eventually grabs Sunshine's chest, where he removes the key that controls the Sand Hell techniques. As the key hits the canvas, Sunshine grabs his head and screams, causing Geronimo to realize that Sunshine’s weakness is loud noises. He used his trademark Apache War Cry.

 

This reduces Sunshine to dust, but - before Geronimo can finish - his heart stops. He remembers the bravery of the chojin who saved him and his sister, and he then sticks his hand into his chest and massages his heart. He finishes off Sunshine with the Apache War Cry.

 

Like the other Devil Knights, he was absorbed by Akuma Shogun before the fight with Kinnikuman.

 

Deep of Muscles 12

After his humiliating defeat at Geronimo's hands, and the defeat of General Devil, he and Ashuraman decide to get revenge on the Idol Chojin, stealing their friendship after hearing about the tag tournament that was going to happen. Then, in order to overcome his defeat at the hands of a human, Sunshine decides to travel across the world, to train from zero. After parting away from Ashuraman, he arrives at the Arabian Desert, where, after trying to find some water for his thirsty mouth, he came across a peculiar chojin with a roller in his chest, and saw him killing and squeezing the liquid out of those chojin.

 

Sunshine fights him, and after a quick match, the chojin known as Rollerman gave Sunshine a glass of water, and then Sunshine explains him about what is he doing in the desert, and what that he wants to learn Rollerman technique. Rollerman accepts, and the two of them start living together in the desert. Sunshine realize that learning the technique will take more than he suspected, but one day, he finds that Rollerman has been kidnapped by a vigilante corps of a near by town, so he went there, in rage.

 

After destroying the vigilante corps, he challenge their boss, and suddenly, Rollerman throw him his rollers, which Sunshine absorb, and use them against their leader, squeezing all his liquid, killing him. But Rollerman was beyond salvation, and dies at Sunshine's arms. After parting from the Arabian Desert, he return in time to participate in the tag tournament, were he finds his partner, Ashuraman, and show him his new technique. But while showing the rollers, a tear fell from one of Sunshine eyes, and Ashuraman asked him why did that happened, so Sunshine answer him that it was because the Arabian sand that was stuck in his eye...

 

Dream Chojin Tag Arc

Asuraman, as a part of the Stray Devil Chojin Combo with Sunshine, takes part in the Dream Chojin Tag Arc. The two demons, last survivors of the Golden Mask Arc concoct a plan to steal the Friendship Power of the Justice Chojin by using some cursed dolls. They manage to steal the very emotion of friendship among the Justice Chojin, greatly weakening them, as a Justice Chojin can't fight without friendship in his heart.

 

As such, Ahuraman and Sunshine are able to beat effortlessly the Big Bombers and the New Machineguns, in the process turning the former friends Kinnikuman and Terryman against each other.

 

During the fight against the New Machineguns, Sunshine begins to believe in the power of friendship, Ashuraman keeps holding to his ideal as an uncaring, evil fiend, and by observing how the attempts made by Kinnikuman and Kinnikuman Great to save Geronimo and Terryman ended up in their cursed doll being broken, he claims the breaks are parts of a prophecy, and uses Sunshine's Cursed Roller to injure his foes where the dolls were broken: Geronimo ends up with a badly shattered right arm, and Terryman is forced to surrender his Star Emblems, or get Geronimo killed and himself decapitated.

 

The prophecy comes to pass in a roundabout way: Prince Kamehame, the former Kinnikuman Great, succumbs because of the strain of helping the New Machineguns and decapitates Terryman, giving him the Kinnikuman Great to allow him fight with Kinnikuman even if he lacks the Star Emblems and Kinnikuman now despises him.

 

During the fight between the Muscle Brothers and the Stray Akuma Chojin Combo, Asuraman is exposed to the Friendship power: Asuraman witnesses Kinnikuman and Terryman starting to mend their friendship, and sees Sunshine caring for him and even apologizing when the Cursed Roller ends up tearing off his right arms. Asuraman tries to still act cold and uncaring, but when Prince Kamehame's arm, who used as a replacement, rebels to his will and leads to his defeat, starts believing in Friendship too, sharing with Sunshine the memories of Samson Teacher.

 

Once the Stray Devil Combo are defeated, and Ashuraman's faces are rip off by the Hell Missionaries, Sunshine tries to stand up, but is quickly attacked by Big the Budo, who after seen that he doesn't have a mask to steal, he was sentence to dead. Big the Budo throws him against Neptuneman, who used his Double Leg Suplex to knock him down, killing him.

 

Survivor Match for the Kinniku Throne

Sunshine would later appear during the Survivor Match for the Kinniku Throne Arc as one of the Chojins The Omegaman captured, killed, and therefore could now transform into.

 

Perfect Origin Arc

Prehistory

General Devil proceeds to rotate the Forbidden Mortar backwards, connecting the surface world to the Chojin Graveyard. To General Devil, life and death of a Chojin should only belong to themselves and the Perfect Chojin controlling that is a grave mistake. The Perfect Chojin have grown arrogant ever since they followed that foolish custom for a 1000 years. The leader of the Perfect Chojin is a monster now. General Devil's mission is to stop the leader and make sure he'll never return.

 

When he stops, General Devil says that no one will be coming back to life. As cracks appear in the ceiling of the Chojin Graveyard, he tells his elite minions, the Devil Knights, that they can enter. With a dynamic entry, the Devil Knights appear and start attacking. While the Graveyard Demons are occupied, General Devil plunges further into the Chojin Graveyard.

 

Sunshine vs. Thingman

The match takes place at the Statue of Liberty. [10] It appears as if the Ninja has returned, but it is revealed to be Sunshine. [10] Sunshine jumps in search of his opponent, but they catch him by surprise and get him in a lock, until Sunshine breaks free and they both land on different sections of the statue. Thingman summons a hurricane of sand, which erodes the Statue of Liberty and transforms it into a statue of a Perfect Chojin. They are to fight within the ring that exists on the palm of the transformed statue, and the two finally clash within upon the canvas.

 

The two start evenly matched, until Thingman delivers a blow to Sunshine's neck. Sunshine begins to turn to sand, which allows him to return to normal, and uses his sand to counter against punches to the chest and a middle-kick to his abdomen. Thingman attempts a power-bomb, along with a Thing Demolition Wave, and the latter releases a metallic sound that reduces Sunshine to a pile of sand, but Sunshine rebuilds his body.

 

Sunshine throws Thingman against the statue, who retaliates with an Extreme Shoulder Armory, which leads Sunshine to attempt a Cursed Roller. The attack fails, as Thingman's previous attack has turned Sunshine from sand into concrete, and Thingman is able to deliver a series of blows, as he gains the upper-hand. Thingman attempts a German Suplex, but Sunshine blocks the move with one arm, and retaliates with a body-scissors, before delivering many blows and finishing with a Death Valley Bomb.

 

Thingman reveals his body is made from a meteorite, as such he cannot be easily damaged, and uses a Shoulder Armory Disc Cutter. He uses the ropes of the ring to crack parts of Sunshine's body, and his Thing Demolition Wave then breaks open the cracks and sends Sunshine crumbling to the canvas. Sunshine's head proceeds to cry, as he struggles to regenerate his body, and - begging for death - allows Thingman to reduce him to nothing but sand, after destroying his head. Thingman gathers his sand up in the canvas, but - before he can toss Sunshine's remains into the see - the canvas appears to catch fire.

 

The iron and sand in the small canvas, which is spun around fast, creates a scientific effect that leads to a vast amount of heat. Sunshine recombines into a red-hot giant key, which he inserts into part of his body and restores himself to normality with a Sand Hell. Sunshine then turns into sand and reappears behind Thingman, where he destroys his Extreme Shoulder Armory with his bare hands. Thingman tries to retaliate, but Sunshine uses a Sand Cemetery Press. This defeats Thingman, who collapses onto the ring.

 

Sunshine takes Thingman's dumbbell. After a confession by Ganman about the origins of the Perfect Origin, Sunshine smashes the dumbbell into his head, before he knocks Thingman out of the ring and returns the Statue of Liberty to its previous state.

 

Post-Match

Sunshine, alongside The Ninja, return to inform General Devil about their victories, giving him Painman, Crowman and Thingman's dumbbells. Then, the two follow their general to Japan's National Stadium, were he stays at his side, watching all the battles. After getting all the remaining dumbbells, General Devil sends Sunshine to finish his mission, and erase the remaining Perfect Origins. With Black Hole's help, he travels to the Chojin Graveyard, and with great grief, he put one by one the remaining dumbbells, but, surprisingly, none of the Perfect Origins disappear...only Psychoman, who had manipulated the mechanism long ago to erase only him!

 

And now, with Buffaloman at his side, Sunshine travels with General Devil to watch his fight with The Man. And after the defeat of The Man, Sunshine, Buffaloman, and the "spirits" of the rest of the Devil Chojin, follow General Devil out of the ring.

 

Omega Centauri's Six Spear Arc

He was hanging out with the remaining of the Devil Chojin, when suddenly, a magic barrier seal them inside their HQ, making them unable to face off against the Omega invaders.

 

Unnamed Arc

When the Justice Chojin were arguing of who would travel to the Tower of Babel to face against the Chojin, Sunshine appears in a screen, saying that he was upset that they let him out of the fights, and wants to also enter the challenge, leaving the Devil Chojin HQ, and traveling with the rest of the team to the Tower.

 

There, while the rest of Chojin were telling Geronimo that he shouldn't be the first one fighting, Sunshine was the only one encouraging him to fight, since he was one of his strongest enemies, and was angry for seen how weak he was after their fight. Geronimo, moved by his words, enters the ring to face against the Choushin. There, he stays in the sidelines cheering for him, congratulating the young chojin once he defeated his opponent. After the revelation of The Executioner about the true intentions of the gods, he and Ashuraman decide to team up and cross one of the three opened doors.

 

d.M.p Arc

Sunshine appears first on a television set, after the Tokyo matches against the dMp members: Kevin Mask, Maxman and Tel-Tel Boy. He is with two mysteriously cloaked men, who are his two proteges, and he is also in Osaka after having defeated Gorgeousman and Barbarian. He is a founding member of the DMp and head of their Akuma Chojin division. In the past thirty years, he states he has grown bitter and angry at the Muscle League, and has found two of the strongest proteges to get revenge on his behalf. He declares his proteges are The Nightmares.

 

They meet again in an izakaya (bar), where Sunshine claims that he is neither friend nor foe until the matches, and treats Mantaro Kinniku and Alexandria Meat in a civil manner. He reveals he is now blind in one eye and lost much of his power, as well as feels abandoned by those of his team who sided with the Seigi Chojin, and - due to feeling alone - he doubled down on his quest for revenge. He notices that Terry the Kid has broken in the Osaka Dome via a portable television set, and orders his Nightmares to capture him. He leaves and reappears later to catch Mantaro in an adult establishment, despite him being underage, and so he blackmails Mantaro into being the referee for the following match.

 

Sunshine announces the "Osaka Battle at High Noon", as well as that Mantaro will be acting as the referee for the upcoming match, and Mantaro acts as a strict referee and often penalizes the Kid. Sunshine obtains a yellow card when Mantaro begins to help the Kid, as he steps into the ring, but he obeys and returns to observing the match from the side. Sunshine antagonizes the Kid to gain the upper hand, but soon Rex King is defeated and he infuses Check Mate with his spirit to make him stronger, so as to prepare for the second match against Mantaro Kinniku. Sunshine announces the following match.

 

It is revealed in flashbacks that Sunshine beat and tortured Checkmate, so that he would be impervious to pain and an invulnerable warrior. Checkmate then reveals he carries a photograph of his old team, which he holds dear, and that he founded the dMp with two other members in hopes of gaining his own faction to control. Sunshine then intervenes with the match when Mantaro is unable to fight, begging Check Mate to stop, but - disgusted by his tears and emotion - Checkmate attacks him and pins him to the ropes. He is devastated when Checkmate tears up his photo, which is his sole memento of the past, and follows this by preventing Check Mate from attacking a small child, saving the child's life. Checkmate proceeds to attack him, until he loses his eye-patch, and is eventually helped up by Mantaro.

 

After Checkmates crosses boundaries in battle, he starts to cheer for Mantaro. This inspires the crowd to rally behind Mantaro and provide him invaluable strength and inspiration to continue. Checkmate is then defeated. Sunshine refuses to allow anyone else to tend to his wounds, as he runs to his protégé who he still holds with great regards and affection, but his colleagues in the dMp send an arrow crashing through the roof of the stadium to kill Sunshine. His army back at base stages a rebellion, but loses in the fight, and so one creates an explosion that destroys all of the dMp and its base. Sunshine - in his bittersweet victory - carries a bleeding Checkmate out of the stadium with the promise to train him to be better.

 

Demon Seed Arc

Sunshine appears drunk in Osaka, where he laments nostalgically for the events of 36 years ago, where there were ‘real’ Devil Chojin: the seven Devil Chojin and Six Devil Knights. He sees the Demon Seed as mere imitations of their predecessors, and leaves in a drunken stupor to Ganryu Island where the last two Demon Seed are preparing to battle the Blood Evolutions. He swims across the sea to reach the General Rib in his attempt to reach the last of the Demon Seed.

 

Sunshine arrives as Ashuraman resurrects. He offers Checkmate the chance to return to the path of evil, as he explains that Ashuraman always regretted joining the Muscle League. Ashuraman rejects Sunshine's attempt to reconcile and form a tag-team. He periodically compliments Checkmate, while cheering on Ashuraman during his match. Sunshine later weeps to see Ashuraman angry, as he reminisces about the past. After Ashuraman wins the match against the B-Evolutions, he proceeds to attack Kevin Mask despite him being incapacitated and the match over, and Sunshine stops him.

 

He states that Ashuraman never shed blood needlessly, but Ashuraman says he's changed.

 

Sunshine later appears at the Demon Womb, as the final match commences. Kinnikuman realizes that Asuraman plans to resurrect General Terror, as he spots Sunshine about to enter the Demon Womb, and proceeds to tickle Sunshine until his stomach opens up, allowing Kinnikuman to hide inside his abdomen. Sunshine then enters the Demon Womb (unknowingly with Kinnikuman). Inside, Sunshine comments that Asuraman is even more ruthless than their time together in the past.

 

It is at this point that Kinnikuman bursts out of his stomach. Sunshine is commanded by Ashuraman to ring the bell that shall awaken the Demon Womb from its slumber. He bickers with Kinnikuman, before ordering Ashuraman to kill Mantaro Kinniku. Kevin Mask later drags Sunshine into the waters beneath the ring, where his sand merges with the electricity to gold-plate his body.

 

As Sunshine is made of gold dust, this allows him to defy the micro-waves of Voltman. Sunshine loses his legs in the process. After General Terror is revived and defeated, the Diamond Dust of Rebirth restores his legs and allows him to walk again. He swears friendship to Ashuraman, who - now elderly - is helped out of the Demon Womb by Sunshine, as they leave to safety together.

 

Kinnikuman Nisei ~All Out Assault~

d.M.p Arc

Sunshine first appears alongside Shimao and Qilinman.

 

He kidnaps Mantaro Kinniku, Gazelleman and Terry the Kid, after he kidnaps Meat Alexandria and holds him hostage within the DMp base. He reveals that they took Meat after he attempted reconnaissance at their base, and - if the others want him back - they need to fight three challengers in the base to earn him back.

Sunshine waits in the "Chess Room" of the final competitor.

He opens his jacket to reveal an Evil Chojin that bursts out from his body: Check Mate. Sunshine proceeds to watch from the sides.

 

A series of flashbacks reveal Checkmate was Sunshine's personal protégé, but treated very harshly and raised in strict conditions. When Checkmate is defeated, Sunshine cradles him on the ring. When the Justice Chojin try to rescue Meat, Qilinman and Shimao go back on their word, which prompts Checkmate - seeing the error of his ways - to dive before the Justice Chojin to protect them from an oncoming attack by an arrow. Sunshine dives in front of the arrow to save Checkmate, which impales him.

 

When Qilinman and Shimao start a self-destruct on the base, Sunshine reveals a secret exit to allow Checkmate and the Justice Chojin to escape. He chooses to stay behind, so as to not to slow down the others, and is seemingly crushed to death by the collapsing dMp base.

 

Top Chojin Festival Arc

At Yokohama Stadium, a new tournament is announced by Ikemen Muscle.

 

The tournament is between both Justice Chojin and Evil Chojin, and Ramenman acts as the representative for the Justice Chojin, while Sunshine acts as the representative for the Evil Chojin. The two shake hands on stage, but - when Sunshine squeezes Ramenman's hand too hard - the two start to fight. Sunshine goes on to announce the preliminary match to wheedle down the combatants to the eight finalists.

 

Sunshine confronts Ikemen when Mantaro Kinniku stays in the competition due to a technicality, but is ultimately placated. He sleeps at the stadium, until the finalists are announced the next day. Sunshine follows this by announcing the lottery for the match-ups.

 

He follows this by attending the match between Fiona and The Doomman, and helps Ramenman to ring the bell. After witnessing the Kevin Mask vs. Naankeeman, he proceeds to go with Ikemen Muscle to watch the Kinniku Mantaro vs. Tentacles match. Once the semi-finals are complete, he appears on stage in a matching suit alongside Ikemen Muscle and Ramenman to announce the finals.

 

Sunshine later is seen at the awards ceremony, where Mantaro is named winner.

 

💪M💪U💪S💪C💪L💪E💪

 

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

 

M.U.S.C.L.E. No. 39, "Sunshine A"

 

Painted by CM, thus losing all collectible value forever.

 

* He was thus named in his first appearance, back in BP 2019 Day 337!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49165867671/

 

** Sunshine has had continued encounters with the Bijou Planks audience.

 

In BP 2020 Day 84:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49057761652/

 

In BP 2020 Day 252:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49057759932/

 

In BP 2022 Day 18:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51829790640/

 

This is Ziggy, who used to be busy at this time of year high in the mountains, guarding our lambing ewes from wild dogs. After we had trouble with him, and one of his compatriot Maremmas, leaving their flock and gallavanting around the countryside, we brought him to our smaller property on the coast for rebonding. Unfortuantely he wheedled his way into our hearts, so here he remains, with the small job on 40 acres looking after 3 children who adore him, their weird mob of grown up poddy lambs, our chooks and 4 horses. He doesn't seem to miss his former life as tough guy at all, spending hours in similar piles of giggling arms and squealing legs without complaint.

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

88010 'Aurora' nearly at Craigenhill Summit at the end of the long climb from Motherwell with the Sunday afternoon Mossend-Daventry 'Tesco Express'. 16th February 2020. One's mini-chariot has managed to wheedle itself into the picture. Apologies to Deltic Fan with whom I interrupted a telephone conversation to get this when the sun popped out!

I seem to need three scenes for my photo adventures. Strawberry Singh's Flat Ebbe Meme is no exception. It occurred to me that the CEOs might want to pal around during their accidental tourism throughout the SL Grid, so I asked Rodvik join us on Mindwalker Beach. Ebbe was pretty silent on the subject, so I didn't wheedle for details. Wherever you've gone, may the odds be ever in your favor, Boys! ｡◕‿◕｡

 

Flat CEOs can be found in Strawberry Singh's Marketplace store.

 

Location: My Mindwalker Beach Home

Nurses are angels in comfortable shoes.

 

Author Unknown

 

I spent a few days in hospital and I am well!!!!!!!

 

I am in that gushing taste of rust

and haemoglobin. The first hound

tore him down of its own accord;

the others came afterwards, lapped

at the spreading pool that steamed

and congealed, and their eyes glazed

with a reddish film as I entered them.

 

That was when the frenzy descended,

and dogs that would have wheedled

and cringed, had their master raised

his hand, transformed in an instant

into a flurry of foam-flecked teeth

as he turned tail in a bulging gush

of entrails. It's not that I mind

men looking with lascivious eyes:

it's when they do it casually, after

killing. The dogs sidle, yelp, rip.

My hair melts, swirls, turns to butterflies.

 

Poem by Giles Watson, 2013

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

The story you're about to read is based on a real event. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Locations have been changed to protect the curious.

 

A Secret Shack

 

"Why are we walking so much?" complained Seth.

 

"Because it's a hiking trip," explained Erebus.

 

"You said it was a backpacking campout," countered Seth.

 

"Backpacking is hiking," enjoined Teddi.

 

"Using tricky language isn't fair," grumbled Seth. "And you said it'd be safer than the other time. How is this safer? We had the truck before."

 

"We'll have something else, this time," Erebus assured him, leading the way uphill on a well-worn footpath, through thick evergreens.

 

"An underground bunker with armed guards?" asked Seth, stopping beside Erebus at the top of the small hill.

 

"No. Lots of company," said Erebus.

 

Spread before them was a tiny cove covered with pale sand, and tanned bodies. Two or three dozen adults played volleyball, built sand sculptures, swam in the surf, or basked on the beach.

 

"We died on the way up that hill, and this is heaven," declared Seth.

 

"No, it's a private beach," clarified Erebus, pointing at a sign that read;

PRIVATE BEACH - ADULTS ONLY - CHECK IN HERE and just to the right of the sign was a comfortable looking booth where a man in board shorts with SECURITY printed on them waved them over.

 

"Daddy got me a beach!" Seth happily declared to Teddi.

 

"Don't...don't call me, daddy," said Erebus, sighing unhappily when Seth gave him a bearhug before bounding over to the security booth.

 

"Aww, it's so cute when he's happy," teased Teddi, patting Erebus' shoulder. "You're such a good daddy."

 

Erebus groaned. "I'm just trying to make up for the last trip."

 

"This should do it," observed Teddi, watching Seth take selfies with the amused, muscular guard.

 

Seth left Erebus and Teddi to set up their tents in the tidy little campground nestled in the forest on a bluff that overlooked the beach, which was accessed by descending a zigzagging wooden staircase. After they were satisfied with their campsite, Erebus and Teddi strolled down to the beach where they discovered a bohemian bar constructed from driftwood, as well as a couple musicians playing acoustic versions of beach-centric songs. Erebus and Teddi settled back on umbrella-shaded beach chairs with their colorful drinks, and watched Seth dashing around like a Golden Retriever, and they threw amused looks at each other.

 

As the sun set and the cove darkened, small bonfires were lighted, and the fun continued late into the night. Erebus and Teddi retired to their tents after midnight, and Seth crawled into his tent shortly before sunrise, which is why Teddi had to arrange a breakfast-in-bed tray for him. They chatted about what they wanted to do that day, and Seth immediately voted for the beach.

 

"I was hoping to take a little hike. The woods are so beautiful," put in Teddi.

 

"And the beach is so ... beachy," Seth pointed out.

 

"Why don't we do both?" Erebus offered a compromise. "We can hit the beach until lunch, come back to the campsite, and after we eat, we go for a walk? It'll be cooler in the woods."

 

"And these aren't proper hiking trails," Teddi told Seth. "They're just walking paths, nothing strenuous, and plenty of other people taking strolls."

 

"Well ... okay," capitulated Seth. "But after the stroll, back to the beach, right?"

 

"Back to the beach," agreed Teddi, grinning.

 

Later in the afternoon, while the three friends strolled along the well maintained path, Seth admitted this was a nice idea.

 

"Now, this is what I call hiking," proclaimed Seth. "I'm not even breaking a sweat."

 

"Where does the trail end?" asked Teddi.

 

"It doesn't," replied Erebus. "It just loops back around to where we started, so you can't get lost."

 

"Good thing," commented Seth. "I couldn't trailblaze my way out of a, Teddi?"

 

"Is that a simile, or a metaphor?" asked Erebus, chuckling.

 

"Neither, I was saying, Teddi," clarified Seth, bringing Erebus to a stop on the trail.

 

Erebus turned around to discover Seth had already stopped several feet back, and beyond him, he could see Teddi poking through the brush on the right side of the footpath. He walked back along the path, Seth following as he passed, until they reached Teddi.

 

She looked up at them, grinning. "I found a game trail!"

 

"What kind of game can you play out here?" asked Seth.

 

"I bet the two of you are related, somehow," drily observed Erebus.

 

"Animal trail," explained Teddi. "Deer, rabbits, all kinds of animals create these paths, usually to watering holes, or meadows." She pushed aside the bushes a little, pointing out the moderately worn, thin trail meandering into the woods.

 

"Cool," said Erebus. "Good eyes."

 

"And I have learned something for my scrapbook," added Seth, taking a picture of the game trail.

 

"Let's see where it goes!" suggested Teddi.

 

"Because getting lost and eaten by a wolverine sounds like so much fun," put in Seth.

 

"There aren't any wolverines around here," stated Teddi.

 

"Maybe a bear," offered Erebus.

 

"That's not helping," Teddi told Erebus. "C'mon, just a little ways?" she wheedled.

 

"We'll get lost," said Seth.

 

"It's broad daylight, and the trail is obvious," countered Teddi.

 

"To you, but what if you're the one who's eaten by the bear? How do we find our way out?" asked Seth, motioning at Erebus and himself.

 

"Okay, how about this; you and Erebus wait here while I take a quick peek?" suggested Teddi.

 

"Okay," agreed Seth.

 

"Not agreed," disagreed Erebus, giving Seth a faux punch to the shoulder. "She can't go wandering around out there, alone."

 

"Because she might run into a bear?" asked Seth.

 

"Because she might run into a man," defined Erebus.

 

"Ouch," said Seth, putting a hand over his heart.

 

"I think he means, not a nice man, like you two," inserted Teddi.

 

"Aww," crooned Seth, wrapping an arm around Teddi's shoulders.

 

"Seth can stay here, and I'll go with you," Erebus told Teddi.

 

"But then Seth will be alone, and what if he runs into a bad man?" worried Teddi.

 

"Ooo, do you think I might?" enthused Seth. Erebus and Teddi both gave him simultaneous faux shoulder punches to both shoulders. "Ow," complained Seth.

 

In the end, the two men followed Teddi on her game trail quest to find where the animals were going, and they'd only walked about 15 minutes before Teddi came to a sudden stop, turning to the two men with a "shush" finger to her lips before anybody said anything, then pointing into the woods.

A few yards from the game trail stood a small, nondescript shack. Covered thickly with fir needles and a few fallen branches, the roof nevertheless seemed intact. Wooden shutters covered all the visible windows, suggesting the glass was probably unbroken. Some sort of plant life was poking up between the wooden steps, and the overall appearance was that of abandonment.

 

"Think anybody's living there?" whispered Seth.

 

"Looks deserted," whispered Erebus.

 

"Yeah, for a long time, I think," whispered Teddi. "Hey, let's check it out!"

 

"Are you crazy?" both men whisper loudly, grabbing either of her arms as she takes a step toward the shack.

 

"So much ow at the masculine appropriation of my limbs," complained Teddi, and they released her.

 

"Sorry," they both apologized.

 

"But it's crazy to go over there," added Seth. "Maybe a homeless person is living there."

 

"If someone is living there, they're not homeless," Teddi pointed out. "I'll knock first, but I don't think anybody's been near it for a while. Look around, nothing's disturbed. This game trail is more walked on than anything close to the shack."

 

"What if it's booby-trapped?" asked Erebus.

 

"After this much time, an animal probably would have tripped anything external, and I'll be careful, going in," Teddi assured him. "You guys can stay here. This isn't going to take long."

 

"You're not going over there by yourself!" exclaimed Erebus.

 

"And I'm not staying out here by myself!" exclaimed Seth.

 

"Great! Then, we all agree we're going to check out the shack together." Teddi smiled and started cautiously for the shack while Erebus and Seth exchanged looks.

 

"Did she just trick us?" asked Seth.

 

"No, we just changed our minds," Erebus assured him. "Come on."

 

The the three friends approached the small shack like it was a grenade that might go off. When Teddi stepped on the first wooden step, and it gave out a long, loud creak, they all jumped back, waiting for -- something to happen. Nothing did. Teddi cautiously climbed the few steps, and with equal caution, crossed the porch to the front door. Standing to the side of the door, while the guys waited on ground level, she knocked on the door. The knock seemed to echo into the quiet depths of the surrounding forest.

 

"Get down," Teddi told them, as she crouched beside the door.

 

"Why?" asked Seth.

 

"In case the door has a shotgun booby-trap," she explained.

 

"Get down, up against the porch," Erebus instructed Seth, pointing. And the two men huddled low, against the porch.

 

"Here goes," warned Teddi, as she turned the handle of the door, which was more difficult than expected, due to corrosion, but the knob finally turned, the door swung inward -- and nothing happened. "Huh," remarked Teddi, rising and peeking inside. "Coast is clear," she told them. "The place is almost empty."

 

The trio slowly entered the dim, dusty interior of the shack. Surprisingly, except for a thick layer of undisturbed dust, and some cobwebs in corners, the space was tidy and well preserved. There was a small desk in one corner of the single room, but nothing in the few drawers.

 

"Well, as far as weird adventures you get us into, I'll take this one," proclaimed Seth. "Dust and cobwebs I can handle. Now, how about that beach?" he asked, clapping his hands together, and rubbing them like a stereotypical evil guy with nefarious plans.

 

"Beach blanket bingo it is," agreed Teddi, starting to follow them toward the door, when a small dark shape on the floor caught her eye. "Hang on." She went into the farthest corner from the door, crouching, and fiddling with something.

 

"What have you got?" asked Erebus, leaving Seth in the open doorway and joining Teddi.

 

"Padlock," she told him. "Looks like a trapdoor."

 

"Too bad it's locked," observed Seth. "Let's get to that beach."

 

"People always think about the locks, not the screws," said Erebus, producing a small pocket knife. He set work unscrewing the bolts holding the plate with the loop through which the padlock was threaded.

 

"Neither of you have seen Evil Dead, I'm guessing?" asked Seth. "Nothing good comes out of trapdoors in backwoods shacks."

 

"You're not at all curious to know what's down there?" asked Teddi.

 

"Not in the slightest. Either it was dangerous, because there's a lock on it. Or it was valuable, because there's a lock on it."

 

"This cabin's been empty for years," observed Teddi. "If there was something dangerous down there, it's dead. If there's something valuable down there, nobody's come back to get it, so I call finders keepers."

 

"What if it's a zombie?" queried Seth, his worry growing with each screw Erebus freed. "Or a demon?"

 

"If it's a demon, shouldn't there be crosses holding this shut?" argued Teddi, smiling.

 

"Could be a holy padlock," countered Seth. "Maybe it was dipped in holy water, or blessed by a priest."

 

"Let's hope it's a zombie," put in Erebus, setting aside the last screw. "Everybody ready to run?"

 

"Ready!" replied Teddi, with an eager grin.

 

"Like I have a choice," complained Seth.

 

Erebus slowly lifted the heavy trapdoor, its rusted hinges complaining at being used after however long it had been since it was locked. The dark rectangle showed nothing until Erebus used his mobile phone to illuminate the area. Dust filtered down the short shaft, revealing a wooden ladder in the shaft.

 

"I'll go first." Erebus volunteered before Teddi could climb in. Teddi made a disappointed sound, but allowed the tall man to climb down first. His head was barely a foot below the surface when he reached the bottom. "There's a door down here. Just a deadbolt on it. Hang on." There was a squeaking sound, then a sharp clack. "Got it open. Going inside."

 

"Me too!" Teddi started into the the hole.

 

"Hang on," Erebus stopped her. "Let me make sure there's room in here, and that this hole isn't going to collapse on us, okay?"

 

"Fine," grumbled Teddi, standing on the ladder, waiting. She looked over at Seth, still standing in the doorway. "Aren't you coming?"

 

"Oh, hell no," he retorted.

 

"What the hell?" came a query from Erebus, his voice sounding strange.

 

"What's wrong?" asked Teddi. "You okay?"

 

"I'm fine. It's just, this room. It's ... weird. Seems solid enough, though."

 

"I'm coming down," announced Teddi, descending the ladder and stepping through the door into -- a living room! "It's a living room!" she exclaimed, looking around at the mobile phone lighted room.

 

The space was as large as the shack above it, also heavily laden with dust, clearly untouched for years. If the space had been above ground, or in a modern daylight basement, it would have appeared perfectly ordinary, with its wallpaper, carpeting, sofa and easy chair, and even a radio and television on a stand. But here, under this shack in the forest, it was creepy.

 

"Wait, go back a little," directed Teddi, as Erebus was shining the flashlight around. "What's over there? Against that wall?"

 

Erebus slowly panned the light back to 3 shapes on the floor. "Looks like ... mattresses, I think?"

 

"What's down there?" came Seth's voice, clearly from right above the access shaft.

 

"It's a living room," Teddi told him.

 

"What?"

 

"You heard me, a living room. Like, for a regular house," she explained. "But there are mattresses down here, too. Three of them." As she spoke, she and Erebus moved closer to the mattresses.

 

"Sounds like someone was living out here," remarked Seth. "Must have put the padlock on the trapdoor so their stuff wasn't stolen."

 

"Maybe," allowed Erebus. "What's that stuff on top of the mattresses?" he asked Teddi, who crouched beside the uncovered mattresses.

 

"Cloth," she replied. "It's not bedding." She brushed at one of the piles. "Clothes!" she exclaimed. "It's a nightgown! And there's one on the next bed, too. And pajamas on the last bed! These are all kids' pajamas!"

 

"Oh, crap," said Erebus. "Do you think --?"

 

"They're brand new," interrupted Teddi. "They still have tags on them, and they're just laid out. Like they were set up for someone to wear."

 

"Creepy," said Seth, from directly behind Erebus, causing the man to jump, and the light flashed around for a moment.

 

"Don't DO that!" cried Erebus.

 

"Erebus, shine the light down here," commanded Teddi, pointing at the first nightgown. "There's something stuck on the front of it." She brushed at the area. "It's a nametag. You know, like when you're at a party, so people know who you are. This one says, Aurora."

 

"What about the others?" asked Erebus.

 

Teddi moved to the other mattresses, brushing away the dust. "Sneewittchen," she read, slowly sounding it out. "That can't be a name." She moved to the last mattress. "Rip VW," she read.

 

"Death of a Volkswagen?" asked Seth.

 

"Holy crap!" exclaimed Teddi, jumping up. "Fairytales!"

 

"What?" asked Erebus.

 

"Look at the nightgowns!" Teddi grabbed his hand, directing the light. "The first is pink, and the name is, Aurora. That's the Grimm fairytale, The Sleeping Beauty! The next one is a yellow gown with blue trim!"

 

"Sneaky Witch?" asked Seth.

 

"No, Sneewittchen. That must be the name of another princess."

 

"And the dead VW?"

 

"Rip VW," she told him. "Rip van Winkle, the guy who slept for a hundred years! Don't you see? These are all fairytales about people sleeping! I'm not sure about Sneewittchen, but it must be another sleeping princess"

 

"But, why the kids' jammies?" asked Erebus.

 

Teddi slowly looked around the room. "I don't know. I can't tell if anything ever happened here, but I think somebody was planning something. Something horrible."

 

"And we are leaving now, right?" asked Seth, backing toward the open door.

 

"We are leaving so fast," agreed Teddi. "We need to report this." She laid a hand on Erebus' arm. "Please take pictures of everything. I want to make sure they believe us, and just in case someone moves anything before the cops get here, I want them to see this."

 

The three friends closed everything up again then fled the silent, anonymous shack.

They reported what they'd found to the beach security guard, and he contacted local authorities.

The little cove lost its appeal to them, and the friends returned home.

They followed the story about the mysterious shack in the woods, and they were happy that their names were kept out of it. They also noticed that the resort so close to it wasn't named.

Police determined that, although the setting was suspicious, nothing seemed to have happened there. No children were reported missing in the area.

They also cleared up the mystery of the name, Sneewittchen. Apparently, that was Snow White's original name.

 

Teddi closed her laptop and looked across the table of their favorite bar, at her friends. "Let's hope something terrible happened to whoever set up that shack, and that's why it was never used."

 

Erebus raised his glass. "To bad things happening to bad people."

 

"Here, here," agreed Seth.

 

And three glass clinked together.

 

(Special thanks to Bailey for my outfit and hair! I look cute while I'm terrified thanks to her! lol)

Jane Brown2022All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without explicit written permission

 

Stellas was born on 1st November 2021. Abby and Elsie went to collect her and her sister, Missy from a breeder of hunting dogs near Bristol, Bath and Trowbridge(!) They saw the pups' mum, a Jack Russell and a photo of their father a Parson Jack Russell. The breeder also had a 12 year old Patterdale who, apart from a white bib) was the image of dear old Stan (Abby took a photo) with white hairy goggles round his eyes!

 

Stella is a sweet little pup - feisty - and she has already wheedled her way into everyone's hearts - she has a lovely temperament and seems very well suited to fitting in with family life. Everyone has claimed her as their dog, but I have no doubt that she belongs to Abby!

 

I'm sure we shan't be hearing any more about kittens, rabbits or gerbils . . .

 

This is a screengrab from "of indian origin" an influential and beautifully designed publication brought out by Nisha John Rao currently based in UK.

 

Of Indian Origin

 

This is a ferment house of ideas, creativity, design and all that originating from India or Indians now spread all over the world. Go see for yourself - the designwork and the content is simply wonderful.

 

An interesting aside here. I have known Nisha briefly from my time in Cochin from 2005 to 2008, as she is the daughter of a friend of mine. When I read the email requesting for high res pictures of the photographs, a few days ago, I knew straight away who Nisha was but she could not place me. Good for me. Who wants to obtain publicity by wheedling and scurrying favors from magazine editors and media personalities ( they all do right ;-))) ). Nah Not me !

 

So till the time this article went up I kept the information that I knew her to my self.

 

Nisha John Rao is originally from the field of advertising. The aim of her site in her words

"" is to celebrate the explosion of creativity that is widespread in India and the Indian Diaspora. Being a land of multiple cultures, it is exciting to find different kinds of work created by various designers and artists linked to India by body, mind or soul. I hope you enjoy the site and exploring the creations as much as I am going to enjoy finding and sharing them. """

 

The exact url of the story is as follows --

 

Anoop Negi of stocks-and-shares and photography

 

The photograph visible in the screen grab is that of Badami situated in Karnataka, India and not in Tibet as some other hallowed publication mentioned while including this in their list of 18 amazing photographs from Tibet -- Now that is another story . ;-))

  

I have six Operettas now! They are all the Claudin sisters with their unique personalities.

 

Far left- Katherine: Probably the one I've photographed the most. She was Loki's moll for a long time until she married the Hot Toys Loki and had a daughter by him. She even briefly became a Lady Loki. She struggles with her borderline personality disorder and being a teen mother, the first of his sisters in fact to have a child. Introverted and sensitive she tries now to undo the damage she did to herself and everyone who loved her when she was a Lady Loki. (named after Katherine Hepburn)

 

2nd left-Lauren: A newer one, she owns the bar and grill and has her only employee, Draculaura working for her as part of paying off the blackmail Lauran has on her. Quiet and unassuming she knows how to wheedle secrets out of people and keeps a large collection of them. She is one of the few sisters still affectionate towards Katherine and acts sometimes as a mediator between her and Joan. (named after Lauren Bacall)

 

3rd left-Joan: A night club dancer who spent most of her money trying to help her sister Katherine in the early days before Katherine became Loki's moll and was involved with the gargoyle gangs of Paris. Joan is a bitter pessimist who hates Katherine, having given up on her having (as she perceives) wasted all her money and love in trying to save her that Joan ruined herself. Joan has a violent temper but a strong religious core and a deep love for the sisters she does see as redeemable. (named after Joan Crawford)

 

3rd right-Norma: The latest acquisition, Norma is the oldest and as she sees the most loyal to their father. This comes as odd considering the Phantom did the sloppiest job in burning the treble clef pattern in her face and burned out one of her eyes which is why her mask is more of an eyepatch (like the Herbert Lom Phantom). Imperious and narcissistic she considers herself the sisters' leader and model of decorum even if only Scarlett and Bette think so. (named after Norma Sheerer)

 

2nd right-Scarlett: The only Claudin sister with a southern accent, a flighty shallow diva who only follows along with what her sisters are doing to be popular. Though not as bossy as Norma, she is spoiled to the core. She even has eyes for Katherine's husband whom she considers too handsome to be kept all to Katherine. Scarlett is wickedly jealous of Katherine because of this though she isn't as violently antagonistic as Joan. She typically does everything Norma tells her to do. (named after Scarlett O'Hara, played by Vivian Leigh in 'Gone with the Wind')

 

Far right-Elizabeth 'Bette': Bette is unique because she isn't as selfish as her other sisters. The youngest of all of them she is the sister all the others try to protect. She is very sheltered, shy, sensitive and with a strong sense of propriety. She dislikes change and holds to the traditions set by her father. She is the only one who still loves Katherine after she became the queen of the Loki lair. (named after Bette Davis)

An ebay tintype. Did you ever read Lady Audley's Secret, the Victorian novel by M.E. Braddon? This woman reminds me of the wheedling, child-like and treacherous Lady Audley.

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

So now moving on to some Marvel stuff, here's the X-Men.

Top:

Angel

Bottom L to R:

Chamber:

Kind of a minor character, but I like him anyway. Pretty basic parts, and a custom coat.

Gambit:

I noticed a while back that the old Power Miners hips have an "x" belt buckle, so any X-Man with just pants now has those. Also the Batzarro torso makes for an excellent Gambit IMO.

Jubilee:

REALLY proud of this one. The gloves and boots are electrical tape, and she has a custom coat. The head is from the Ghostbusters firehouse set, and it's what makes the figure for me.

Angel:

The wings are custom, but the rest is mostly copied from someone on Eurobricks. I still need to wheedle my brother out of his Flash head for a day.

Banshee:

The head is far from perfect, but otherwise I really like this one. The cape is custom, and the torso is one from World Racers backwards.

Nightcrawler:

Pretty simple. NRG Jay head, Ninjago torso (I forget which wave), City diver legs.

Rogue:

Pretty close to what everyone does for her. The coat is custom, and the torso is from the Riddler.

Storm:

Just the Lego one with Ursula's hair from the Disney CMF.

 

I still need to make a decent Cyclops, and a wheelchair for Prof. X. Any suggestions are appreciated (my current one is basically a brick and some cheese slopes).

 

Questions and comments welcome!

Yes, she is one of those Lennon Sisters. I'm dating myself by having even heard of them. In my mind, the Lennon Sisters were big around the time of the Dionne quintuplets, but it turned out I was off by a matter of decades.

 

Wait. Was I thinking of the Andrews Sisters?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

IMDB says:

 

Janet Lennon was born on June 14, 1946 in Culver City, California, USA. She is an actress and producer, known for Love, American Style (1969), Jimmy Durante Presents the Lennon Sisters (1969) and Pro Bowlers' Tour(1962).

 

She has been married to John Bahler since September 25, 1976. She was previously married to Lee Bernhardi.

 

Strange as it may seem, this tome was never reviewed in its day or, if it was, the review didn't make it onto the Internet.

 

Hence, we'll have to make do with a reader's assessment of the work on Amazon in 2007:

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reviewed in the United States on December 3, 2007:

 

Being a fan of the Lennon Sisters, I wanted to get this book as part of my collection. I really enjoyed reading it.

 

I am an adult, but I enjoy reading children's books sometimes because of the good values that underline many themes in these books. I found this one to bring out these good values as well.

 

As you can figure from the title of the book, [??] this book focuses on Janet and her last summer vacation before "growing up".

 

The other family members are just referenced briefly at the beginning of the book.

 

Good values dealing with diversity, consideration of others, friendship, and thoughtfulness are shown throughout the readings of this book.

 

If you enjoy children's books as I do, are a Lennon Sisters fan, or are a child yourself, I think you will enjoy this book as much as I have.

 

I also have bought the other Lennon Sisters books in the series, but I have not read them yet. I will write reviews on them as I complete them.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you're still reading this and if you enjoy games and puzzles, re-read the "review," look closely at the book cover, examine the illustration, and write a 10,000-word short story titled "Janet and the Angels II" that incorporates all the elements and characters in them into one hilarious story that's fun for all the family!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

No piece about this book would be complete without a mention of its place in the 1954-1975 TV Whitman Book collection:

 

Whitman Books: The TV Tie-Ins That Bind

Smack Dab In The Middle: Design Trends Of The Mid-20th Century

 

February 14, 2020

 

What was Lassie up to when she wasn't fishing Timmy out of that well? Where did Annette go when she wasn't wearing her mouse ears, and did the Lennon Sisters ever get a day off from the Lawrence Welk Show?

 

The answers to such burning questions came courtesy of Whitman Publishing of Racine, Wis. During the 1950s and 60s, Whitman's Authorized TV Editions filled the bookshelves (and filled in the imagination gaps) of many young fans.

 

Couldn't wait a week for the next episode of Lassie? Well, you could probably wheedle Mom or Dad into springing for Whitman's Lassie and the Secret of the Summer. (Spoiler alert, Lassie's secret has her finding a valuable stash of old recordings).

 

Pining for more of The Mickey Mouse Club? Curl up with Annette as she puts on her Nancy Drew detecting hat for Annette and the Mystery at Smuggler's Cove.

 

And oh, those Lennons! With a hand-drawn map, they discover The Secret of Holiday Island and reunite a shipwrecked boy with his long-lost father.

 

If the storylines sound familiar, it's because they're relatively interchangeable with the type of stories found in other popular Whitman book series (Donna Parker, Trixie Belden, The Bobbsey Twins).

 

The difference is that the TV editions featured TV stars. And the more popular the star, the better the chances of a continuing series (Annette made her mystery-solving way to such locales as Moonstone Bay and Medicine Wheel).

 

At just under $2, your folks could justify the cost. After all, these were books. You weren't sitting there staring at the TV. You were reading. (Even if you were reading about TV).

 

Celebrities sell, a fact that Whitman discovered early on. Beginning in 1932, its Big Little Books put comic strip favorites (Dick Tracy, Popeye), between the pages of tiny books just four inches high. Simple stories and black-and-white illustrations made these must-haves for the younger set.

 

Later in the 30s, Whitman branched out into standard-sized hardcovers with pop culture tie-ins.

 

Many still celebrated funny paper favorites (Smilin' Jack and the Daredevil Girl Pilot, Blondie and Dagwood's Secret Service).

 

Others brought real-life movie stars into the mix (Betty Grable and the House with the Iron Shutters, Ginger Rogers and the Riddle of the Scarlet Cloak).

 

Each Whitman book promised the newest, up-to-the-minute mystery and adventure stories for girls and boys, featuring your favorite characters!

 

When TV surged into prominence in the 1950s, Whitman was ready. Exciting, breezy, 200-page tales were headlined by faces who were tops on the tube, including Fury, The Real McCoys, and Gene Autry. (Autry had been the subject of past Whitman books, but 1951's Gene Autry and the Badmen of Broken Bow was the company's first official TV tie-in. Gene's TV show premiered in mid-1950.)

 

Noting Whitman's success, Walt Disney visited the library as well, with books based on popular Disney flicks such as The Shaggy Dog.

 

That trend hearkened back to the 1940s, with books-into-movies re-releases of such box office draws as Now, Voyager.

 

Dr. Kildare, Leave It To Beaver, Annie Oakley, Maverick--How did you know when your TV show was really a hit?

 

Why, when you'd made it onto the glossy cover of a Whitman book. Just about 100 official Whitman TV tie-ins were published.

 

The series ended in 1975, with a half-dozen volumes starring The Waltons.

 

Today, collectors can find Whitman books at bargain prices. Almost all are under $10, with the exception of such rarities as 1968's Mission to Horatius, the first original story based on the Star Trek series.

 

Patience is required to find Whitmans in collectible condition. The laminated covers have a tendency to peel (as do the spines). The line-drawn endpaper illustrations often brought out the crayon-obsessed among young readers.

 

But for those of a certain age wanting to relive a certain age, Whitman TV books were, as promised, 'delightful, intriguing, never to be forgotten.'

 

Donald-Brian Johnson is the co-author of numerous books on design and collectibles, including Postwar Pop, a collection of his columns. His favorite Whitman book is Fury.

antiquesandauctionnews.net/articles/Whitman-Books%3A-The-...

 

Last but certainly not least, here is a list of 45 of the books in the series:

 

Leave It To Beaver. Fire. 1962

 

The High Chaparral. Apache Way. 1969.

 

Dr. Kildare The Magic Key. 1964

 

Dr. Kildare. Assigned To Trouble. 1963

 

Hawaii Five-O. Top Secret. 1969

 

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. The Affair of The Gentle Saboteur. 1966. David McCallum and Robert Vaughn pictured on the cover.

 

The Man From U.N.C.L.E. The Affair of The gunrunners' Gold. 1967

 

I Spy. Message From Moscow. Bill Cosby and Robert Culp on the cover. 1966

 

Bonanza. Treachery Trail. 1968

 

The MOD Squad. Assignment: The Hideout. 1970

 

The MOD Squad. Assignment: The Arranger. 1969

 

Garrison's Gorillas and The Fear Formula. 1968

 

Star Trek. Mission to Horatius. 1968

 

Patty Duke and Mystery Mansion. 1964

 

Combat! The Counterattack. 1964.

 

Voyage To The Bottom of The Sea. 1965

 

Ironside. The Picture Frame Frame-Up. 1969.

 

The Rat Patrol. The Iron Monster Raid. 1968

 

The Invaders. Dam of Death. 1967

 

Mission: Impossible. The Money Explosion. 1970

 

Mission Impossible. The Priceless Particle. 1969

 

The Munsters and the Great Camera Caper. 1965.

 

The Munsters. The Last Resort. 1966

 

The Rebel. 1961

 

Sea Hunt. 1960

 

The Beverly Hillbillies. The Saga Of Wildcat Creek. 1963

 

The Real McCoys and Danger at The Ranch. 1961

 

Lucy and The Madcap Mystery. 1963

 

Tarzan and the City of Gold by Edgar Rice Burroughs. 1954.

 

The Three Musketeers. C. 1956

 

The Big Valley. 1966

 

Rin Tin Tin and The Ghost Wagon Train. 1958

 

Janet Lennon Adventure at Two Rivers. 1961

 

Janet Lennon at Camp Calamity. 1962

 

Janet Lennon and The Angels. 1963

 

Lassie The Wild Mountain Trail. 1966

 

Lassie and The Secret of The Summer. 1958

 

Annette. The Desert Inn Mystery. 1961.

 

Annette. Mystery at Medicine Wheel. 1964

 

The Misadventures of Merlin Jones. 1964

 

Mary Poppins. 1964. Julie Andrews on the cover.

 

Ripcord. 1962.

 

The Waltons. The Puzzle. 1975.

 

The Waltons. The Penny Sale. 1975

 

The Waltons. The Treasures. 1975.

Jane Brown2022All Rights Reserved. This image is not available for use on websites, blogs or other media without explicit written permission

 

Stellas was born on 1st November 2021. Abby and Elsie went to collect her and her sister, Missy from a breeder of hunting dogs near Bristol, Bath and Trowbridge(!) They saw the pups' mum, a Jack Russell and a photo of their father a Parson Jack Russell. The breeder also had a 12 year old Patterdale who, apart from a white bib) was the image of dear old Stan (Abby took a photo) with white hairy goggles round his eyes! Missy has gone to live with Rachel in Suffolk - not only did Stan die last year, but also Lulu, Rachel 's Bedlington.

 

Stella is a sweet little pup - feisty - and she has already wheedled her way into everyone's hearts - she has a lovely temperament and seems very well suited to fitting in with family life. Everyone has claimed her as their dog, but I have no doubt that she belongs to Abby!

 

I'm sure we shan't be hearing any more about kittens, rabbits or gerbils . . .

   

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

It's a common perspective to frown upon toy companies competing with one another. In the doll world, this particularly rubs collectors and children the wrong way. I'll admit, I was always frustrated as a kid when toy companies "copied" one another. It always seemed like a childish rivalry whenever one doll line was designed with the specific intent to mimic another. This dates back to the beginning, when Barbie first came out, and the market became saturated with clones. These imitators, often spark needless controversy and spats within the doll community. It's easy sometimes to take dolls too seriously, when they mean so much to us. I for one have been guilty of this time and time again over the years. I can still recall my frustration when I first saw My Scene dolls in stores, and it was very apparent to me that they were supposed to be the Barbie version of Bratz. Being obsessed with Bratz dolls, my allegiance at the time was sworn to them, so I remember vowing to myself that I would "boycott" these new Barbie knockoffs. It's similar to how I felt when MGA fought against Monster High's popularity by releasing Bratzillaz...that was also an instance when I couldn't help but roll my eyes with annoyance. The ultimate irony though is despite the initial bad taste left in my mouth by this sort of rivalry, I always end up coming around and enjoying the "copiers." It didn't take me long to crack and purchase a My Scene doll after the line hit stores. In fact, my first My Scene doll was the original Madison...and I had only seen her at Wal-Mart a handful of times before I could no longer resist the temptation. What can I say, I have always been taken with African American dolls, and dollies with super unique molds. And of course, I can't forget to mention how bonkers I went for Bratzillaz after I finally decided I had to buy Victoria Antique. My Bratzillaz collection has just about every doll made in it since the line was so short lived. Now that I'm older and a little wiser, I've learned a valuable lesson--never be too quick to judge a new type of doll.

 

When My Scene dolls began popping up in stores, my doll collection was growing at a rapidly quick rate. After my mother passed away in 2002, my dad's only way of consoling my sister and me was to buy us oodles of toys and dolls. Since he was emotionally unavailable most of the time, it seemed that spoiling us with dolls was a good way to compromise and make it up to us. I'll admit, those first few years without mom were the reason I became an emotional shopper. Dolls were the one highlight of that dark time for me, and whenever we'd go out shopping with Dad, it was the only moment during the week I could forget about my troubles completely. Allowance was no longer a term used in our household. Instead, Dad always willingly bought us whatever we wanted. This made it so much easier for me to sample new doll lines or to just buy whatever I felt like on a whim. That is exactly how my first My Scene doll came to be. I remember being in Wal-Mart one afternoon with Dad and Colleen. He left us in the Barbie aisle and said we could each pick out a toy. I'm pretty sure Colleen went for a Kid Kore Katie doll (although I really cannot remember for sure). I on the other hand was willing to put aside my initial bitterness towards the My Scene dolls--I just HAD to get my hands on that beautiful first edition Madison doll with warm, brown skin and amazing curly hair. Madison actually impressed me--while she wasn't the same as a Bratz doll, I still felt an immense fondness for her. I remember playing with her quite a bit. The best part about Madison was that she could wear all the same clothes as my 1999 mold Barbie dolls. Unlike Bratz, My Scene dolls didn't have specialty bodies, and they had real feet. This was a perk that I did not take for granted. I was so pleased with Miss Madison, that I plotted about which other My Scene doll I wanted to add to my collection next.

 

I didn't buy a ton of My Scene dolls when I was younger, mostly because I was so easy to please when it came to dolls, that I usually settled on a random Barbie doll or playset. But that's not to say I didn't fantasize about owning more My Scene dolls. I ended up getting several over the course of the next few years. I'm pretty sure that my second gal was Chillin' Out Madison (she was my favorite character), but I was torn over getting first edition Chelsea instead. Poor first edition Madison took a beating--I didn't know how to care for her curly hair, so she ended up half bald and with a hair cut. It's really a shame I didn't know about the boil wash back then, or I'd have been able to salvage my Madison (I'm still searching for another one to this day). But I am grateful that my two most sentimental My Scene sets have survived all these years. I liked how Mattel produced My Scene guys--I was very curious about how they compared to Ken dolls. Colleen at the time was a Ken doll fanatic, and she too wanted a My Scene dude to add to our collection. I remember one afternoon, we found the Jammin' in Jamaica Cruisin' the Boardwalk set at KB Toys. It was a pack containing two African American My Scene dolls, dressed in amazing beach clothes, and equipped with an adorable plastic dog. Dad bought us the set that day, and I remember opening it up in the car. Sutton and Jai were dubbed "Ruben" and "Polly," and the little dog we called "Ridalfo." We were pretty darn obsessed with the movie "Along Came Polly" at the time, so we thought it would be most fun to name some dolls after the characters. I still remember with perfect clarity toting our new, amazing My Scene dolls around the hardware store later that afternoon, talking about our wild plans to play with the dolls when we got home. Each time I look at Sutton or Jai, or should I say Ruben and Polly, I can't help but be fondly reminded of that moment in time.

 

My favorite, most special My Scene doll of them all has to be my Jammin' in Jamaica Nolee doll. It's unintentional that both my favorite sets of My Scene dolls happened to be marketed for the same line! It's a day that I'll never forget, and one that has cemented Miss Nolee as one of my most special dolls in my entire collection of all 2,800 plus dollies. That year, in the spring of 2004, I got my braces. Before I could get the braces put on, I had to have five of my baby teeth extracted. I was able to wheedle out two of the five teeth before my appointment, but the other three had such huge roots, there was no way I would have ever gotten them out on my own. I know it sounds like a traumatizing, painful experience having a bunch of teeth pulled on the same day, but honestly I think it bothered Dad more than it did me. My mouth was so numb, I couldn't feel a thing once the shots of Novocaine had been injected into the roof of my mouth. Dad watched from a chair in the room as the dentists ripped out my three teeth. The cracking noises my teeth made, coupled with the fact that I kept digging into my legs with my nails out of anxiety, really bothered my dad. As we left the office, he felt even more sorry for me as blood dribbled out of my mouth, since I still couldn't feel a thing. Dad had to stop at Wal-Mart on the way home. The only reason I went into Wal-Mart with my blood stained, blue striped shirt was because I was promised a doll. Dad felt so sorry for me, that he wanted to get me a new doll, and I was not about to miss out on the opportunity. I was in the toy aisle by myself for a few minutes (Colleen was in school that day), while I chose what doll I wanted to get. I was torn between getting the black Bratz case with the country names on it, a Bratz accessory pack with earrings (which I could use on my Wild Life Safari! Nevra, aka Dakota), or the beautiful Jammin' in Jamaica Nolee doll. Nolee was most appealing--I was in love with her jet black crimped hair, cheerful makeup, pale skin, and colorful beach clothes. Plus she came with an extra outfit, and I've always been a notorious doll clothes hoarder. When Dad returned, he not only said I could get Nolee, but under the given circumstances, he thought it was appropriate to get me the black Bratz case too! When Colleen came home from school, I was eager to show her my new goodies--she too thought Nolee was a total babe. Despite the fact that Dad bought me tons and tons of dolls over the years, Nolee is one of the ones that most reminds me of him. I can still remember the way he smiled at me, and the way his warm brown eyes glistened in the car, as he asked me if I liked my new toys, on our way back home. I've always loved Nolee just as much as one of my Bratz dolls. Even a five year hiatus from dolls couldn't make me forget all the love I felt for her. If I could only pick a handful of dolls, I know that Nolee would be one of them.

 

I'm really glad that I was the sort of person who could never resist a new type of doll. My sister was always better at maintaining a stubborn boycott against a type of doll than I was. But at the end of the day, I think that made me the luckier of the two of us. Holding grudges never got anyone anywhere, especially when it is over something as silly as dolls. I've truly come to understand the true meaning behind doll collecting these past few years. At the end of the day, no matter what types of dolls you collect, how many you have, or what kinds of things you do with them, I'd say that most of us love dolls because they make us happy. It was so easy for me in my younger years to lose sight of that basic fact. It was something I struggled to grasp for a really long time, which often led me to needlessly worry, stress, or complaint about dolls. Does it really matter whether Bratz or My Scene dolls came out first? Does it really matter which type of doll is better or higher quality? Does it matter who is more rare and valuable? My personal answer to all of these questions is no. When I look at my dolls, I don't see any of those things. When I hold my beloved Nolee doll in my hands, and I look into her purple and brown colored eyes, I'm not thinking of that petty grudge I once held against My Scene dolls. Instead, I feel this powerful sense of love--even though Dad bought me Nolee more than a decade ago, and even though he's been gone now for over four years, it still feels like yesterday that he was smiling down at me in the car as I cradled Nolee in my hands. That's what I hold onto, that is what resonates with me about dolls, and that is what I have to strive to remember everyday. My dolls have taught me so much about life and about love. Dolls are always evolving, and as long as there are new dolls on the market, there will be imitations of them too. And that's okay with me. I see this competitive rivalry between toy companies as a good thing these days--it means more variety in the doll aisles at stores, and more opportunities to fall in love with dolls all over again.

 

Collection video:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZoRufWo6uw&feature=youtu.be

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

"The Roman Church commends this day to us as the blessed Lawrence’s day of triumph, on which he trod down the world as it roared and raged against him; spurned it as it coaxed and wheedled him; and in each case, conquered the devil as he persecuted him. For in that Church, you see, as you have regularly been told, he performed the office of deacon; it was there that he administered the sacred chalice of Christ’s blood; there that he shed his own blood for the name of Christ."

– St Augustine.

 

My sermon for today can be read here.

 

Pope Innocent II (1130-1143) rebuilt the church of Santa Maria in Trastevere (thus he is shown holding the church), and he is depicted in the apse mosaic alongside the martyred deacon of Rome, St Lawrence. The mosaics date to the lifetime of Innocent II, but St Lawrence died in 258.

 

Our newest addition. She's about 5 weeks old per our vet. A pharmacist friend wheedled me into taking her - like it was difficult. Thankfully my husband was sitting there when I said I'd take Number 5. Her back story is that a woman and her kids found Ruby and her brother, who was named Bo, in their yard, they live out in the country, no mom around. Once they got it home they realized Mom's significant other was allergic to cats - extremely. So here she is.

 

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

Some more pictures from my old fotopic site, randomly selected and dumped on here. There are probably duplicates but I'll wheedle them out when I get a chance...

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

 

Today however we are not in Lettice’s flat. Instead, we have followed Lettice south-east, past the Royal Academy, across Picadilly, through the neighbouring borough of St James’ with its private clubs and gentlemen’s tailors, over St James’ Park and Birdcage Walk where once the Royal Menagerie and aviaries of King James I and King Charles II had stood, to Queen Anne’s Gate* in Westminster, lined with fine early Eighteenth Century townhouses. Walking beneath a cloudy spring sky with teasing peeks of blue between the rolling white and grey clouds, Lettice strides up the street with unhurried footsteps, cutting a fine figure in her three-quarter length fox fur coat with a wide brimmed red felt hat positioned at a jaunty angle on her head. The heels of her red pumps click along the footpath as she looks up pleasurably and admires the simple, elegant façades of the red and rich brown brick buildings around her, all set with rigid rows of twelve, nine and six pane Georgian windows. She pauses to make a closer inspection of one of the ornately carved canopies** over the main door of a residence. Painted in white to match the window frames of the house, the wood of the canopy is finely carved with a mixture of flowers, draped festoons, oak leaves and acorns. In the centre, the face of a woman, possibly Queen Anne herself, peers out surrounded by the curls of her hair and lace of her collar. It is then that she realises as she notices the shiny brass numbers nailed to the black painted door, that she has reached her destination. “Very nice.” she murmurs in a mixture of approval and admiration. She can hear the muffled sound of distant hammering but cannot tell whether it emanates from the house she stands before, or another in the row. Looking behind her she notices several tradesmen’s vehicles parked amidst the smarter Austins and Worsleys along the street. Walking up the two Portland stone steps to the front door she notices a bell pull sticking out of the red brick to the left of the door. She pulls it. From within the house the sound of a loud bell echoes hollowly, implying that the interior is devoid of furnishings. She waits, but when no-one comes to open the door, she exercises the bellpull for longer. Once again, the bell echoes mournfully from deep within the house behind the closed door. Finally, a pair of shuffling footsteps can be heard along with indecipherable muttering and then a vaguely familiar fruity cough as the latch to the door turns.

 

“Mrs. Boothby!” Lettice exclaims, coming face-to-face with the wrinkled face of her charwoman*** as the old Cockney woman opens the door to the townhouse.

 

“Well, as I live an’ breave!” she exclaims in return with a broad and toothy smile before coughing loudly again, making Lettice wince. “If it ain’t Miss Lettice! G’mornin’ mum!” Dressed in a bright floral cotton pinny over her dress and with an equally bright and cheerfully patterned scarf tied around her head, she bobs a curtsey respectfully. “You must be ‘ere to see Mrs. ‘Atchett! C’mon in wiv ya!”

 

Lettice walks through the door held open by Mrs. Boothby and steps into a well proportioned vestibule devoid of furnishings, but with traces of where furniture and paintings once were by way of tell-tale shadows and outlines on the floor and walls. Now that she has stepped into the townhouse, she can hear the hammering and sawing of tradesmen more clearly, confirming that the work she heard from outside is happening in this building. Ahead of her a carved dividing screen of two burnished mahogany columns with a delicate glass lunette**** of seven panes of clear glass splaying out from a central semi-circle above, frames an equally empty hallway at the end of which she can see the sweeping curl of a bannistered Georgian staircase with dainty spindles along it. Only a non-working clock with a brass frame showing the wrong time graces the walls of the hallway, imbedded into a space above a closed doorway that may possibly lead downstairs the servants’ quarters in the basement.

 

“Come this way, mum. Mrs. ‘Atchett’s frough ‘ere, just up the stairs, in the drawin’ room on the first floor.” Mrs. Boothby says. “If you can call it that right now.” The old woman leads the way, her low heeled shoes slapping across the dusty, stained and badly damaged parquetry floor, pieces of which are missing or sticking up, splintered. Noticing Lettice’s concerned look, the Mrs. Boothby goes on, “You mustn’t mind the mess, mum. It’s all sixes ‘n’ sevens ‘round ‘ere, what wiv tradesmen thumpin’ in and out in their ‘obnail boots*****. C’mon up.”

 

“How is it that you are here, Mrs. Boothby?” Lettice asks in bewilderment as she follows the older woman down the hallway and up the staircase, which she finds is carpeted in a tatty, filthy and moth eaten Victorian stair runner.

 

“Well, you know ‘ow it is, mum. Word gets ‘round.” Mrs. Boothby replies with air of mystery.

 

“Does it, Mrs. Boothby?” Lettice queries, eyeing the back of her charwoman sceptically as they ascend the stairs with Mrs. Boothby in the lead.

 

“Indeed it does, mum!” Mrs. Boothby replies cheerfully, releasing another of her fruity coughs as she does.

 

“This is quite a coincidence.” Lettice adds, remembering when she first visited the Pimlico flat of one of her former clients, the American film actress Wanetta Ward, and found Mrs. Boothby answering the door. “This wouldn’t happen to be because you heard from Edith that I was potentially going to do some redecoration for Mrs. Hatchett, would it Mrs. Boothby?”

 

Mrs. Boothby stops on the first floor landing. Turning back to face Lettice she allows her hand to rest upon the curving mahogany bannister. “’Eavens no, mum! Our Edith is the soul of discretion! She’d never gossip ‘bout you or ‘ooever you’re decoratin’ for!” she purposefully lies with an air of conviction in her voice, determined not to let Edith, Lettice’s maid, suffer any consequences because Mrs. Boothby easily wheedled out of her the fact that Mrs. Hatchett was setting up a house in Queen Anne’s Gate with her Member of Parliament husband. “’Er mum brung ‘er up proppa, just like mine did me.”

 

“Of course, Mrs. Boothby!” Lettice finds herself apologising. “So, how did you find this position, working for Mrs. Hatchett, then, Mrs. Boothby?”

 

“Well I cleaned for Lady Pembroke-Duttson, just ‘round the corner from ‘ere ‘till ‘er ‘ouse burnt dahwn in November that is. I was doin’ for ‘er in ‘er new ‘ouse in them fancy Artillery Mansions******, and she mentioned that Mrs. ‘Atchett was movin’ into the neighbour’ood, so I made some enquiries. So, ‘ere I is.” She spreads her careworn hands expansively. “Lady Pembroke-Duttson left a big gap in me schedule, so I’m ‘opin’ this’ll be permanent like soon.”

 

“But I thought you just said you were still cleaning for Lady Pembroke-Duttson, Mrs. Boothby.” Lettice says with a sceptical squint.

 

“Ay?” the old woman asks.

 

“You just said that you were cleaning for Lady Pembroke-Duttson.” Lettice elucidates. “How can she leave a gap in your schedule of jobs if you’re still cleaning for her.”

 

Thinking quickly on her feet, Mrs. Boothby releases a throaty chuckle, blushing as she does. “Lawd luv you, mum! Cleanin’ a flat in Artillery Mansions ain’t like cleanin’ ‘er old ‘ouse what burnt dahwn. ‘Er old ‘ouse ‘ad ever so many rooms, whereas now she’s got rooms ‘bout the size of yours, mum. That leaves a big gap, mum.”

 

Lettice silently wonders whether the old charwoman’s story holds any truth, however she has no proof that it doesn’t, so she just smiles benignly and nods. Whether Mrs. Boothby squeezes titbits of gossip from Edith or not, the pair of domestics keep Lettice’s Cavendish Mews flat spick and span, and with such difficulty finding decent staff in the aftermath of the war, Lettice decides that she best say nothing about her suspicions to Edith.

 

“Anyway,” Mrs. Boothby adds. “It’s only right, ain’t it?”

 

“What is, Mrs. Boothby?”

 

“Me cleanin’ for Mr. and Mrs. “Atchett, mum.”

 

“How so, Mrs. Boothby?” Lettice queries.

 

“Well, Charlie ‘Atchett’s the MP for Tower ‘Amlets*******, and that includes me, what wiv me own ‘ouse bein’ in Poplar! It’s only right!”

 

“Does Mrs. Hatchett know that you clean for me, Mrs. Boothby?” Lettice asks warily, holding her breath as she speaks.

 

“Lawn no, mum.” Mrs. Boothby cackles.

 

“Well, just see that she doesn’t, Mrs. Boothby.” Lettice snaps, irritated by the cockney woman’s gib attitude to the situation. “I can’t have a whiff of any perceived potential gossip from me with Mrs. Hatchett. I won’t have any such thing jeopardise this commission.”

 

“As if I would.” Mrs. Boothby replies with a lofty air. “Come along now. She’s just in ‘ere.”

 

The pair walk down a dingy oak panelled corridor lined with open doors through which Lettice can see a series of rooms in different states of decay and repair, all empty except for one where a group of workmen on scaffolds strip paper off a wall and patch the brickwork behind it, and a second where men are laying a new floor, which is where all the hammering is emanating from. The old Cockney woman leads Lettice past a fine mahogany door that has been removed from its hinges and into a gloomy room devoid of furniture except for a pair of old, mouldering brown leather wingback******** armchairs, a neat pedestal table and a portrait sitting on an easel. A large white marble fireplace is being scrubbed with a wiry brush by another charwoman, far younger than Mrs. Boothby, overweight and with a mass of black curls tied back off her face by a rag bandeau********* on her hands and knees in front of the grate, grunting noisily with her laboured movements, her efforts revealing beautiful white details from beneath many years of brown grime.

 

“Well, she was ‘ere, mum.” Mrs. Boothby apologises in surprise. “I dunno know where she’s gawn now.” She looks at the other charwoman cleaning the fireplace. “’Ere, Elsie! You know where Mrs. ‘Atchett’s gawn?”

 

“Nah!” the charwoman grunts back monosyllabically before pausing in her labours and leaning back on her haunches and looks up at Mrs. Boothby, ignoring Lettice’s presence entirely. “Gawn to the lav most likely. I think I need it too. Cleanin’ this fireplace gives me the shits**********!”

 

Lettice sucks in a gulp of air in shock at the other woman’s vulgarity.

 

“Elsie!” Mrs. Boothby exclaims aghast. “Whachoo fink you’re doin’, sayin’ words like that in front of a laydee! This ‘ere is the Honourable Miss Lettice Chetwynd, what’s a friend of Mrs. ‘Atchett’s.” She gesticulates with sweeping gestures around Lettice like a vendeuse*********** showing off a model in the latest fashion.

 

“So?” Elise replies, yawning loudly, giving Lettice ample view of her grey, rotting teeth. “’S not my concern!” Scrabbling off her knees with another exhausted groan, she wanders off lazily, her down-at-heel slippers slapping loudly across the floor as she exits the room through another door, muttering to herself as she does.

 

“I do beg your pardon, mum.” Mrs. Boothby apologises profusely.

 

“It’s quite alright, Mrs. Boothby.” Lettice replies, gracefully attempting to smooth over the nasty gaff from the other woman.

 

“No it ain’t! Elsie’s got no right to talk to you like that! Elsie was ‘ere when I arrived. I dunno, ‘cos I don’t talk to ‘er much, but I fink she’s the daughter of one of the carp’nters,” She indicates behind her with her right thumb. “And the wife of annuva. She’s very rude, lazy, and got no respect for no-one.” Her old face crumples in distaste. “She certainly ain’t no friend of mine, and that’s a fact!”

 

“Really, it’s quite fine.” Lettice assures Mrs. Boothby.

 

“I’ll go see if I can find Mrs. ‘Atchett for you, mum.” Mrs. Boothby says soothingly, bustling from the room through the same open door Elsie had exited through.

 

Left alone, Lettice is better able to explore and take in her gloomy surroundings. The walls are papered in old fashioned Victorian flocked wallpaper which must once have been a beautiful gold, but is now dreary, faded and tattered. Large floor to ceiling bookshelves made of dark mahogany run along the walls to either side of the fireplace, adding to the overall cheerlessness of the room. Dirty and torn scrim hangs at the window, obscuring the view and the much needed daylight. There is a pervading smell of damp which is only offset by the scent of freshly cut timber coming from the carpenters laying the floor down the hallway. Lettice notices a single ornate pedestal appearing out of the gloom in the space to the right of the fireplace. Various cleaning agents have been left around the room: some Vim*********** on an empty bookshelf beneath a bright yellow cleaning cloth, probably deposited there by Mrs. Boothby, and some Zebo Grate Polish************* on the mantle along with a feather duster. The blue, red and yellow Victorian carpet beneath her feet must once have been very fine, but now, like the stair runner is faded, worn and dirty. In fact, aside from the portrait on the easel, there is a thick film of filth on almost every surface, as though it has been decades since the room was property cleaned. The portrait however, is dazzling by comparison to its surroundings. Set in a simple gold frame, the oil on canvas depicts Mrs. Hatchett with her modishly styled blonde hair and pale peaches and cream complexion in a pale blue gown against a neutral coloured background. Mrs. Hatchett’s eyes glitter and sparkle whilst a gentle smile teases the edges of her reddened lips. The strokes are bold and the image has a sense of energy and about it.

 

“Do you like it, Miss Chetwynd?” comes a familiar voice.

 

Lettice turns and sees Dolly Hatchett standing in the doorway Mrs. Boothby and Elsie had disappeared through. Like her portrait, Mrs. Hatchett’s pale blue eyes twinkle and sparkle with life, and her soft skin has a gentle glow to it as she smiles at Lettice, her simple gesture adding warmth and joy to the cheerless room. No wonder Captain Charles Hatchett, home on leave during the Great War, had fallen in love with the chorus girl from ‘Chu Chin Chow’************** as he watched her in the darkened auditorium of His Majesty’s Theatre. Wrapped in a sleek full length mink coat with a string of pearls at her throat and a fashionable black felt cloche from under which her blonde waves poke, the slightly awkward and gauche wife of the once banker, now Member of Parliament, that Lettice met for the first time at her Sussex home in 1921 is gone. In her place stands an elegant and confident woman whose experience, social advancement and successes since that time have given her a presence which Lettice cannot help but admire.

 

“Mrs. Hatchett!” Lettice exclaims. “You look wonderful!”

 

Mrs. Hatchett laughs, her peal beautiful and carefree, as she steps into the room, walking with poise across the carpet to Lettice’s side. “No, not me, Miss Chetwynd, the portrait!”

 

“Oh!” Lettice turns and glances back at the painting before returning her attention to Mrs. Hatchett. “Oh it’s marvellous too, but not nearly so much as you, Mrs. Hatchett.” she enthuses.

 

“You always were so kind to me, Miss Chetwynd,” Mrs. Hatchett says with a dismissive sweep of her hand. “Thank you.” She blushes.

 

“You’ve changed so much, Mrs. Hatchett.” Lettice remarks with a smile. “You are nothing like the, dare I say it, mousey, young woman I met in 1921! You’re so, so assured, self-possessed!”

 

Mrs. Hatchett laughs again. “I’m still little Dolly Hatchett the chorus girl under my warpaint.” She cocks an expertly plucked and shaped eyebrow, also newly acquired since Lettice last met her, over her eye. “I’m just better at disguising her now, so I can be the suitable wife successful MP for Towers Hamlets, Charles Hatchett, needs.”

 

“I’m sure it’s more than that, Mrs. Hatchett.” Lettice counters.

 

“Maybe,” Mrs. Hatchett admits quietly. “But if it is, I have you and dear Mr. Bruton to thank for it. You helped me to understand that I deserved more respect than that which I received from my mother-in-law, and Mr. Bruton taught me the power of clothes when it comes to presenting a confident appearance.”

 

“Indeed he has!” Lettice sighs. “You look ever so smart and select, Mrs. Hatchett.”

 

“Thank you, Miss Chetwynd.” Mrs. Hatchett purrs. “Goodness, it does seem an age since that wonderful weekend at ‘The Gables’.”

 

“Yes, we were celebrating the completion of my interior decoration for you.”

 

“And you encouraged me to let myself be dressed by Mr. Bruton that first evening. Now everyone in Rotherfield and Mark Cross, and a good many more beyond it, follows what I wear with interest and try to mimic it.”

 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mrs. Hatchett.”

 

A gust of wind blows outside, causing the windows to rattle in their casings and the scrim to quiver. The rasp of leaves echoes from the fireplace and some dust and soot falls from the chimney and into the empty blacklead grate.

 

Lettice shivers. “I’m glad you warned me to wear a fur coat here, Mrs. Hatchett. It’s rather chilly.”

 

“I’d have had a fire laid, Miss Chetwynd,” Mrs. Hatchett apologises. “But I’m a bit apprehensive that the whole place doesn’t ignite before I get chimney sweeps in to check and clean the flues. One of the daily women I’ve hired told me of a woman who lived not far from here that she cleaned for, whose house went up in flames dramatically in November.”

 

“Did she?” Lettice tries to muffle a gentle smile with her hand.

 

“She did! She said she was lucky to get away with her life!”

 

Lettice’s smile broadens as she recognises the more innocent, less worldly, but more endearing Dolly Hatchett carefully obscured beneath the layers of Gerald’s couture, just as Mrs. Hatchett assured her she was.

 

“Anyway,” Mrs. Hatchett goes on. “What do you think of the House of Usher?”

 

“You don’t like it, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice queries, surprised considering how enthused Mrs. Hatchett had sounded over the telephone about she and her husband’s new London home, intended to replace the pied-à-terre*************** in Kensington that Charles and she are currently using as their London base.

 

“Oh I do from the outside,” Mrs. Hatchett quickly explains. “But this…” Her voice trails off as she waves her hand around the room.

 

“Yes,” Lettice sighs. “This.”

 

As if the house knows that it is being spoken of disparagingly, some more soot falls from somewhere high above, crashing and crumbling into the grate in a disgruntled fashion.

 

“Charlie tells me that her bones are good,” Mrs. Hatchett goes on. “But looking about these rooms all I see is decay.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, Mrs. Hatchett!” Lettice blusters. “It seems to me that you’ve already begun the house’s rebirth and renewal. The rooms are well proportioned, being early Eighteenth Century.”

 

“Aaahh…” Mrs. Hatchett sighs contentedly. “And that’s why I need your eye of possibility again, Miss Chetwynd. You saw through all my mother-in-law’s drab Victorian décor at ‘The Gables’ and envisioned how beautiful and light it could be, and you brought that vision to fruition. Now you can see it here, or at least I hope you can, somewhere under the layers and layers of filth and decomposition.”

 

“I think I can.” Lettice admits, looking around the room again.

 

She goes to sit in the larger of the old wingback brown leather chairs.

 

“Oh, I shouldn’t do that if I were you, Miss Chetwynd!” Mrs. Hatchett exclaims, putting out her hands to stop Lettice from sitting.

 

“Why ever not, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice asks in surprise.

 

“Well, for a start, in case you hadn’t noticed, we do have a bit of damp problem. There’s nothing to say it hasn’t gotten into the furniture left by the auctioneers when they cleaned the house out.”

 

“Yes,” Lettice sniffs and screws up her nose a little. “There is a definite sense of dampness in the air.”

 

“Oh, and behind these worn old papers,” She gesticulates around the room again. “And in the plaster ceilings, under the wainscots, and,” She moves the toe of her black leather pump back and forth on the carpet, making the parquet flooring beneath groan. “And the floorboards.”

 

“Oh don’t, Mrs. Hatchett!” Lettice pleads her hostess, who smiles cheekily when she sees Lettice shiver.

 

Stopping her torment of the floor, Mrs. Hatchett goes on. “Secondly, I believe he died there.”

 

“Who?” Lettice’s eyes grow wide as she stares at the worn seat of the chair.

 

“The Admiral.” Mrs. Hatchett replies, pointing to the single painting hanging on the wall in the room, hanging above the fireplace.

 

Lettice looks up at the portrait, which like most everything else in the room is dark and covered in a film of dirt. Through the filth, beneath the cracking golden yellow layers of varnish, Lettice can see a rather handsome looking gentleman in a dark frock coat and orange breeches leaning against a wall, gazing out of the frame into the distance.

 

“Or so I have on good authority.” Mrs. Hatchett adds.

 

“From whom?” Lettice asks in alarm.

 

“From his old housekeeper.” Mrs. Hatchett replies. “She came with the house, staying on after the Admiral died to show us, as the new owners, the quirks of the house.”

 

“That’s quite a quirk!” Lettice looks askance at the chair.

 

“Apparently, he was one hundred and twelve when he died. He was bed, ahem…” Mrs. Hatchett clears her throat awkwardly. “Chair ridden and he only lived in this room and a few others since 1910. You wait until I show you some of the downstairs rooms towards Birdcage Walk where the garden has unceremoniously entered the house.”

 

“Well, I shall lo…” Lettice begins when a sudden rattling over crockery interrupts her words.

 

“’Ere we are mum… err… Miss… Miss Chetwynd,” Mrs. Boothby stutters as she quickly remembers that she is supposed to pretend that she doesn’t know Lettice. “And Mrs. ‘Atchett.” The old woman walks into the room carrying a wooden tray on which sit two plain white teacups and saucers, a matching milk jug, sugar bowl, a non-matching but pretty floral teapot covered in pink roses, and a tin of Huntly and Palmer**************** biscuits.

 

“Oh splendid timing Mrs. Boothby!” Mrs. Hatchett sighs, clapping her steepled fingers in delight.

 

With a groan, Mrs. Boothby lowers it onto the pedestal table. “Take a seat, mu… Miss Chetwynd and Mrs. ‘Atchett!”

 

“I think I’d prefer to stand.” Lettice remarks, looks askance at the chair.

 

“Suit yourself.” Mrs. Boothby remarks, looking oddly first at Lettice and then at the chair, screwing up her nose as she considers the chair may be a little grubby, but not beyond her mistress sitting in. “Do you want me to keep cleanin’ in ‘ere, mum?” she addresses Mrs. Hatchett.

 

Lettice almost replies automatically, but luckily her utterance is cut off by Mrs. Hatchett.

 

“If you’d just focus on the dining room for now, thank you Mrs. Boothby. You may return here after Miss Chetwynd and I have finished our business.”

 

“Very good, mum.” Mrs. Boothby answers, dropping a quick bob curtsey. She turns and goes to walk away. Then she turns back to Mrs. Hatchett. “Oh, and mum?”

 

“Yes Mrs. Boothby?” Mrs. Hatchett asks.

 

“You’re still alright wiv me ‘avin that old teapot I found,” She nods towards the floral teapot on the tray.

 

“Oh yes, Mrs. Boothby. Of course! Of course!” Mrs. Hatchett replies.

 

She giggles once the old Cockney woman has left the room. “I do believe she is a bit of a collector.” She smiles indulgently at Lettice. “But I rather like her, so I can’t help but indulge her.”

 

“She is certainly nicer than the other daily woman I met.” Lettice adds seriously.

 

“Oh, the other one came with them.” Mrs. Hatchett indicates through the door off its hinges into the hallway where the banging of nails being hammered into wood continue. “She’s rather slovenly, and certainly sullen.”

 

“You still can’t quite manage the staff, can you, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice chuckles.

 

Mrs. Hatchett chuckles self consciously in return. “I told you that it’s still little me under this façade that you and Mr. Bruton helped to create.” She muses silently to herself, smiling before continuing, “I think I might employ her as a daily.”

 

“What?” Lettice ask in surprise. “Who?”

 

“Mrs. Boothby. The old woman who answered the door to you and brought our tea in. She’s been very reliable and works hard, she knows the area well, has a cheerful disposition, and she seems to have some rather good references.”

 

Lettice does not reply to Mrs. Hatchett’s remarks about Mrs. Boothby as Mrs. Hatchett sets about pouring tea into the teacups, which Lettice notices are thicker and plainer than what she is used to, and assumes that they must be part of an old servant’s set from below stairs, left when the Admiral’s more finer possessions were cleared out by the auctioneers who sold off his estate. Perhaps the teapot escaped by being hidden in an out of the way corner cupboard, she considers.

 

“So, Mrs. Hatchett,” Lettice finally says with a sigh, accepting a cup of tea proffered to her by Mrs. Hatchett to which she adds sugar and milk. “You’d like me to decorate this room, a dining room and another reception room?”

 

“Yes, Miss Chetwynd.” Mrs. Hatchett enthuses. “The suite of principal rooms on this floor, which Charlie and I will use as our main entertaining space.”

 

“I shall have to see the state of the other rooms.” Lettice sips her tea as she stands next to Mrs. Hatchett and looks again around the gloomy interior in the midst of which they stand with a critical eye.

 

“I shall take you on a tour directly after we’ve had our tea, Miss Chetwynd.” Mrs. Hatchett replies. “And I’ll show you some of the rooms you won’t have to deal with, luckily for you. Biscuit?” She opens the tin of Huntley and Palmer’s Empire Assortment and proffers the selection of biscuits to Lettice.

 

“I can’t take your commission on straight away.” Lettice tempers her companion’s enthusiasm as she selects a jam fancy from amongst the biscuits on the offing in the tin. “I’ve just accepted a commission from another client who wants some work done on her country house in Essex.”

 

“Oh, that’s alright!” Mrs. Hatchett replies, selecting a Bourbon biscuit for herself. “This place won’t be shipshape for a good month or two yet: maybe even longer. Work is only really just getting started.” She bites into her biscuit and munches it pleasurably.

 

“And what do you envisage this time, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice asks after finishing her own mouthful of biscuit and sip of tea. “Oh, and just to be clear, I won’t settle for chintz of any kind this time.”

 

“Oh no, my dear Miss Chetwynd! Of course not!” Mrs. Hatchett assures her.

 

“Well, I know you have a fondness for it, Mrs. Hatchett.” Lettice eyes Mrs. Hatchett over the white china edge of her cup as she takes another sip of tea.

 

“I do, Miss Chetwynd. I won’t lie.” Mrs. Hatchett admits guiltily. “But not this time. Not here.”

 

“Good!” Lettice replies. “Then we are in agreeance.”

 

“When you came to ‘The Gables’, Miss Chetwynd,” Mrs. Hatchett goes on. “I told you that I didn’t need you to ape the houses of peers with your own taste.”

 

“Yes, I remember that, Mrs. Hatchett.”

 

“Well this time, because this is a London house, and a place where Charlie and I plan to entertain other MPs and dignitaries, I need Queen Anne’s Gate to exude stability, knowledge and most of all, sophistication.”

 

“And what does that look like to you, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice asks.

 

“No, what does it look like to you, Miss Chetwynd? You once again have a clean slate to work with.” She looks around her critically. “Or rather it will be when you come back.”

 

“If I agree.” Lettice counters.

 

“Can you resist such an offer, Miss Chetwynd? I’m giving you carte blanche to redesign and decorate these rooms.”

 

“Do you really mean that, Mrs. Hatchett?” Lettice asks. When Mrs. Hatchett nods her confirmation, Lettice goes on, “Well, if I am to be given carte blanche, may I ask, how avant-garde might I be permitted to be with this interior design?”

 

“As much as you want, Miss Chetwynd!” Mrs. Hatchett says with a hopeful lilt. “Carte blanche! Neither Charlie nor I know anything about art perse, so we’ll be guided by you. My only request is that I was hoping you could take some of your inspiration from my portrait in your design.” She walks over to her portrait and rubs the edge of the gilded frame affectionately. “You see, I’m really rather proud of it, and I want it to hang above the fireplace in here in place of the Admiral’s portrait.”

 

“A centrepiece?”

 

“Yes, that’s right!”

 

Lettice looks at the portrait again, carefully admiring the vivid brushstrokes of the artist who has so expertly captured Mrs. Hatchett’s spirit. “Very good, Mrs. Hatchett.” she agrees with a smile.

 

“Oh hoorah!” Mrs. Hatchett deposits her teacup and what is left of her biscuit on the tray and claps her hands in delight. “So, what have you in mind, Miss Chetwynd?”

 

“There is an exhibition happening in Paris in April. It’s called ‘Exposition internationale des arts décoratifs et industriels modernes’*****************. It is highlighting and showcasing the new modern style of architecture and interior design: a style I am an exponent of. I’m planning to go when it opens, Mrs. Hatchett, and I’m hoping to gather new ideas on interior design there and incorporate them into my own. Since the house won’t be finished for a few months, I could use your interior designs to showcase some of my ideas inspired by the exhibition.”

 

“I say!” Mrs. Hatchett breathes. “How deliciously fashionable! I’d have the most avant-garde house amongst the MPs’ wives! That would be a feather for my cap!”

 

“Yes, it would, Mrs. Hatchett.” Lettice purrs. “You’d be the most fashionable, the most up-to-date, the most smart and select.”

 

“Yes! I agree!” Mrs. Hatchett laughs. “As avant-garde and daring as you like, Miss Chetwynd!”

 

“Then we’d best finish our tea so you can show me around, Mrs. Hatchett.” Lettice concludes.

 

*Queen Anne’s Gate is a street in Westminster, London. Many of the buildings are Grade I listed, known for their Queen Anne architecture. Simon Bradley and Nikolaus Pevsner described the Gate’s early Eighteenth Century houses as “the best of their kind in London.” The street’s proximity to the Palace of Westminster made it a popular residential area for politicians.

 

**Originally a street and a square, Queen Anne’s Gate began life as Queen Square and Park Street. The two were separated by a high wall until 1873when the two areas were combined into Queen Anne’s Gate. Queen Square was constructed first, then when Park Street was constructed, residents of Queen Square were so concerned that the road would be used as a cut through for carriages to avoid the traffic of King Street, the Sanctuary and Tothill Street that a subscription was collected for the building of the wall to avoid the residents having the peace of their square disturbed. The architecture of the buildings in the original Queen Square part of Queen Anne’s Gate is superb, and the main doors to the majority of buildings have very elaborate decorated wooden canopies.

 

***A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.

 

****A lunette is a crescent- or half-moon–shaped or semi-circular architectural space or feature, usually above a doorway or walkway, variously filled by windows, masonry, a painted mural, or sometimes left void.

 

*****Hobnailed boots (known in Scotland as “tackety boots”) are boots with hobnails (nails inserted into the soles of the boots), usually installed in a regular pattern, over the sole. They usually have an iron horseshoe-shaped insert, called a heel iron, to strengthen the heel, and an iron toe-piece. They may also have steel toecaps. Often used for mountaineering, the hobnails project below the sole and provide traction on soft or rocky terrain and snow, but they tend to slide on smooth, hard surfaces. They have been used since antiquity for inexpensive durable footwear, and were often by workmen and the military.

 

******Built in Westminster, quite close to the Palace of Westminster and the Houses of Parliament Artillery Mansions was just one of the many fine Victorian mansion blocks to be built in Victoria Street around St James Underground Railway Station in the late 1800s. Constructed around open courtyards which served as carriageways and residential gardens, the mansion blocks were typically built of red brick in the fashionable Queen Anne style. The apartments were designed to appeal to young bachelors or MPs who often had late parliamentary sittings, with many of the apartments not having kitchens, providing instead communal dining areas, rather like a gentleman’s club. Artillery Mansions, like many large mansion blocks employed their own servants to maintain the flats and address the needs of residents. During the Second World War, Artillery Mansions was commandeered by the Secret Intelligence Service as a headquarters. After the war, the building reverted to private residences again, but with so many of its former inhabitants either dead, elderly or in changed circumstances owing to the war, it became a place to house many ex-servicemen. The Army and Navy Company, who ran the Army and Navy Stores just up Victoria Street registered ‘Army and Navy Ltd.’ at Artillery Mansions as a lettings management company. By the 1980s, Artillery Mansions was deserted and in a state of disrepair. It was taken over by a group of ideological squatters who were determined to bring homelessness and housing affordability to the government’s attention, but within ten years, with misaligned ideologies and infighting, the squatters had moved on, and in the 1990s, Artillery Mansions was bought by developers and turned into luxury apartments.

 

*******The London constituency of Tower Hamlets includes such areas and historic towns as (roughly from west to east) Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Bethnal Green, Wapping, Shadwell, Mile End, Stepney, Limehouse, Old Ford, Bow, Bromley, Poplar, and the Isle of Dogs (with Millwall, the West India Docks, and Cubitt Town), making it a majority working class constituency in 1925 when this story is set. Tower Hamlets included some of the worst slums and societal issues of inequality and poverty in England at that time.

 

********A wingback chair is a type of chair with a back that curves out to the sides. Wingback chairs are named for the wings, or extensions, of fabric on either side of the seat, typically, but not always, stretching down to the arm rest. The wings can be made of wood or metal, but they're typically padded and upholstered in fabric. The wingback chair was invented in the Sixteenth Century. It was created during a period of fine English furniture design when English furniture makers were creating furniture that has elaborate designs and ornate carvings. The name “wingback chair” is derived from the chair's back wings. The wings were added to provide support for the head and neck of the person sitting in it, as well as affording the sitter with protection from draughts and to trap the heat from a fireplace in the area where the person would be sitting. Hence, in the past, these were often used near a fireplace. They also provided a place for a person to rest their arms, which gave it its distinctive look—a shape similar to that of a bird's wing or butterfly wing.

 

*********A bandeau is a narrow band worn round the head to hold the hair in position.

 

**********Believe it or not, but the interjection of “shit” was not uncommon by the 1920s amidst the lower classes. The earliest known use of the interjection shit is in the 1860s. It is also recorded as a noun from the Old English period (pre-1150).

 

***********Derived from the French, a vendeuse is a saleswoman, usually one in a fashionable dress shop.

 

************Vim was a common cleaning agent, used in any Edwardian household. Vim scouring powder was created by William Hesketh Lever (1st Viscount Leverhulme) and introduced to the market in 1904. It was produced at Port Sunlight in Wirrel, Merseyside, a model village built by Lever Brothers for the workers of their factories which produced the popular soap brands Lux, Lifebuoy and Sunlight.

 

*************Zebo (or originally Zebra) Grate Polish was a substance launched in 1890 by Reckitts to polish the grate to a gleam using a mixture that consisted of pure black graphite finely ground, carbon black, a binding agent and a solvent to keep it fluid for application with a cloth or more commonly newspaper.

 

************* ‘Chu Chin Chow’ is a musical comedy written, produced and directed by Oscar Asche, with music by Frederic Norton, based on the story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves. It was the most popular show in London’s West End during the Great War. It premiered at His Majesty’s Theatre in London on the 3rd of August 1916 and ran for 2,238 performances, a record number that stood for nearly forty years!

 

**************The Fall of the House of Usher is a short story in the horror/gothic genre by American writer Edgar Allan Poe, first published in 1839 in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine. The story revolves around the narrator visiting his the house of his childhood friend, Roderick Usher: the House of Usher falling slowly but more surely into decrepitude as the story goes on, before finally splitting in two as the narrator flees, and silking into a lake.

 

***************A pied-à-terre is a small flat, house, or room kept for occasional use.

 

****************Huntley and Palmers is a British firm of biscuit makers originally based in Reading, Berkshire. The company created one of the world’s first global brands and ran what was once the world’s largest biscuit factory. Over the years, the company was also known as J. Huntley and Son and Huntley and Palmer. Huntley and Palmer were renown for their ‘superior reading biscuits’ which they promoted in different varieties for different occasions, including at breakfast time, morning and afternoon tea and reading time.

 

*****************The International Exhibition of Modern Decorative and Industrial Arts was a specialized exhibition held in Paris, from April the 29th (the day after it was inaugurated in a private ceremony by the President of France) to October the 25the, 1925. It was designed by the French government to highlight the new modern style of architecture, interior decoration, furniture, glass, jewelry and other decorative arts in Europe and throughout the world. Many ideas of the international avant-garde in the fields of architecture and applied arts were presented for the first time at the exposition. The event took place between the esplanade of Les Invalides and the entrances of the Grand Palais and Petit Palais, and on both banks of the Seine. There were fifteen thousand exhibitors from twenty different countries, and it was visited by sixteen million people during its seven-month run. The modern style presented at the exposition later became known as “Art Deco”, after the exposition's name.

 

Although this may appear to be a real room, this is in fact made up with 1:12 miniatures from my miniatures collection.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The two intentionally worn leather wingback chairs are both 1:12 artisan miniatures which I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom. The small pedestal table, the white plaster fireplace, the black painted metal fire basket and fender, black painted fire irons, easel, metal step ladder and pedestal also come from there. The painting on the easel is my own selection of what I thought Mrs. Hatchett might look like, put into a gilded frame that also came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop.

 

The wooden tea tray is a 1;12 artisan miniature piece that I acquired from a miniatures stockist on E-Bay. The floral teapot is an artisan piece as well, decorated by the artist Rachel Munday, whose work is highly prized by miniatures collectors. The Huntley and Palmer’s Empire Assorted Biscuit tin containing a replica selection of biscuits is also a 1:12 artisan piece. The plain white teacups, milk jug and sugar bowl are painted metal and come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop.

 

The painting hanging above the fireplace came from Amber’s Miniatures in the United States.

 

On the fireplace stands a bottle of Zebo grate polish and a can of Brasso. Zebo (or originally Zebra) Grate Polish was a substance launched in 1890 by Reckitts to polish the grate to a gleam using a mixture that consisted of pure black graphite finely ground, carbon black, a binding agent and a solvent to keep it fluid for application with a cloth or more commonly newspaper.

 

The feather duster on the fireplace mantle I made myself using fledgling feathers (very spring) which I picked up off the lawn one day thinking they would come in handy in my miniatures collection sometime. I bound them with thread to the handle which is made from a fancy ended toothpick!

 

On s shelf to the right of the photo on top of a yellow cleaning cloth is a can of Vim with stylised Edwardian. Vim was a common cleaning agent, used in any Edwardian household. Vim scouring powder was created by William Hesketh Lever (1st Viscount Leverhulme) and introduced to the market in 1904. It was produced at Port Sunlight in Wirrel, Merseyside, a model village built by Lever Brothers for the workers of their factories which produced the popular soap brands Lux, Lifebuoy and Sunlight.

 

The flocked wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend who encouraged me to use it as wallpaper for my 1:12 miniature tableaux.

 

The large Persian rug on the floor has been woven by Pike, Pike and Company in the United Kingdom.

.

A slave sugar cane plantation along the Mississippi River Louisiana.

 

Laura Plantation. Today we visit two very different plantations; Laura was run by Creoles and has a Creole style of architecture; Oak Alley was also run by a Creole family but it adopted the Greek Revival style favoured by the Anglo-Americans for their slave plantations. Oak Alley is the picture book, Gone with the Wind style of plantation. Both plantations grew “white gold” – sugar cane. They boiled it down in large cast iron vats and made molasses to be sold in the molasses, rum, cotton, and slave trade between Africa, American and Europe. Sugar made the Creole planters along the banks of the Mississippi River rich. Both plantations depended on their slaves for economic success and the Creole families treated their slaves no better, and probably a little worse than Anglo-American plantation owners elsewhere. To avoid confusion remember that Laura Plantation began as DuParc Plantation. Its name was changed to Laura in the late 19th century. Guillaume DuParc bought a small plantation from some French Cajuns (those who escaped from French Canada (Arcadia) to Louisiana) in 1804. DuParc had assisted the French Navy in their support of the Americans during the War of Independence so he wheedled a large land grant out of President Jefferson to add to his small plantation. Slaves made bricks on site to build the piers to support the house and keep it safe from river floods. Like many Creole families the control of the plantation was bestowed upon the most able person, not the elder son, and after some years the plantation was run by a succession of DuParc women. The men also tended to die early of Yellow Fever or malaria. At its peak the plantation comprised over 12,000 acres. For most of the Antebellum period it had around 300 slaves, with a long line of 69 slave cabins. The regulation size for a cabin was 16 feet by 16 feet. The last of Laura’s slave cabins was occupied by a sharecropper until 1977. Laura Locoul who was born in the plantation in 1861 at the start of the Civil War was the last Creole owner. Her slave nanny stayed with her until she married and went to the North in 1892. The other former slaves stayed on, as did most slaves in the South, and became sharecroppers after emancipation. They were then economic slaves, bound to their former slave masters by debt. As a business Laura plantation declined and the profits of earlier years were gone for the Locoul family after the civil War. The former slaves they were allotted a parcel of land to farm with hogs, a little sugar, corn etc. They were compelled to buy their seed grain from their former masters, the interest rates on these loans in advance were high and uncontrolled. Black Americans were always in debt to the white land owners, never able to leave their sharecropping property and they were hungry and destitute if crops failed and they did not make enough money to repay the white land owner for the fertilizers and seeds bought on hire purchase. Sharecropping only died out in the South in the mid 1960s with the Civil Rights movement. Laura Locoul says that she hated slavery and was determined to leave Laura Plantation when she discovered that one of the old black Americans on the plantation in the late 1860s had branded scars on his face. He had been a runaway slave and branding slaves, like cattle, assisted with their return to their “rightful owner” in Antebellum times. Laura left the plantation in 1876 to attend boarding school in New Orleans. Following her grandmother, Elizabeth Lacoul’s death in 1882 the plantation was divided between two families. By this time Laura Locoul was living in a French Quarter house in New Orleans. In 1892 she made an unthinkable marriage- to a Northern Anglo-American who lived in St. Louis. Laura Plantation was sold just before her marriage in 1891.Laura Locoul Gore died in 1963. The current owners of Laura have only recently discovered the DuParc and Locoul family records in St. Louis and in France. Alcée Fortier, a French language professor in New Orleans published stories based on African folklore like Joel Chandler Harris of Eatonton. Harris first published Uncle Remus stories in 1880, and Fortier first published folklore stories in French in 1894 supposedly from visits to Laura.