View allAll Photos Tagged expected
I didn't expect too much for using fisheye lens for flowers. I just brought it because I didn't use it for a long. It's hard to imagine what will happen though this lens. So I've tried. Oh, that's completely different world I was seeing though my favorite macro lens. I love it, too.
You know, you go to an antique show in North Carolina, you half expect to find some bear photos. Such is not always the case. But my recent foray to the Liberty Antique Show was one of those times when expectations panned out. I found bear photos at two or three dealers, and bought most of them. This is your basic bear cliche photo. It probably comes from Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and it could just as well be Tennessee as North Carolina. Let me tell you, I've been there and done that. I've been a little bit more up-close and personal with Black Bears than probably most people would care to experience. And ain't talking about no cub puppy like this fellow.l
I painted this one for the good people at Procreate to celebrate my favorite holiday, halloween. The mandate was to re-invent the "Jack-o-Lantern" - which by a not so surprising turn of events is the name of my studio, "Jako Lanterne Studio". After submitting several ideas to the guys at Procreate they chose a pregnant zombie idea and I ran with it- gotta run when faced with zombies don't ya know!
Something I wasn’t expecting to see transporting Swindon Town FC supporters to Wembley for the Sky Bet League One Play-Off Final against Preston North End was RSW 450N, a Kassbohrer Setra S250 coach from the fleet of Webb, Armscote, Warwickshire, that I had last photographed at the 2014 UK Coach Rally. It was new to Scancoaches, North Acton, London as M971 NFU in June 1995. It passed to Q-Drive (Scancoaches), Battersea, London in February 1997. It moved again to Evans, Tregaron, Wales in February 1999, but passed to West Kingsdown Coaches, West Kingsdown, Kent in July 1999. It was then licenced to Skinner (Westerham Coaches), Oxted, Surrey from July 2000, then North Downs, Westerham, Kent in September 2000, then on again to Charlton & Martin (Plan-It Travel), Maidstone, Kent in August 2002. It stayed with Plan-It Travel until sold to Evobus, Coventry (Q) by November 2008. It was purchased by Webbs in March 2009 and received its current mark in July 2011.
This is Killy, named that way because my 3 year old niece can't say kitty with a "t." She's a very pregnant cat and will soon have kittens. I can't wait to see what they'll look like. She is so fluffy and cute. :D
There's another photo in the comments. You can see how big she's really gotten.
Expecting and nursing mothers require social protection but workers in the informal economy are often not covered. Maternity protection has been a primary concern of the ILO since its creation in 1919. Workplace support for mothers who are breastfeeding has been a basic provision of maternity protection. The Philippines expanded maternity leave benefits in 2019 to align with international labour standards. The ILO also promoted exclusive breastfeeding in the workplace to advance women’s rights to maternity protection and to improve nutrition security for Filipino children.
Photo : E. Tuyay / ILO
Date : 2011/11
Country : Philippines
They like to eat dried meal worms. These hen like people, because that's who gives them food and water.
Expect the unexpected.... Here, 2507 Pauses at Lisboa Oriente with IR840 08.55 Covilha to Lisboa Santa Apolonia on Thursday 7th May 2004. These electrics had been freight only since March 1999 after sectorisation took hold in Portugal.
Expecting and nursing mothers require social protection but workers in the informal economy are often not covered. Maternity protection has been a primary concern of the ILO since its creation in 1919. Workplace support for mothers who are breastfeeding has been a basic provision of maternity protection. The Philippines expanded maternity leave benefits in 2019 to align with international labour standards. The ILO also promoted exclusive breastfeeding in the workplace to advance women’s rights to maternity protection and to improve nutrition security for Filipino children.
Photo : E. Tuyay / ILO
Date : 2011/11
Country : Philippines
Expecting and nursing mothers require social protection but workers in the informal economy are often not covered. Maternity protection has been a primary concern of the ILO since its creation in 1919. Workplace support for mothers who are breastfeeding has been a basic provision of maternity protection. The Philippines expanded maternity leave benefits in 2019 to align with international labour standards. The ILO also promoted exclusive breastfeeding in the workplace to advance women’s rights to maternity protection and to improve nutrition security for Filipino children.
Photo : E. Tuyay / ILO
Date : 2011/11
Country : Philippines
I have purchased a QHY5III462C. As you would expect, there has now been almost continual cloud cover! Last night though, there was a short gap when they parted.... there was however a lot of atmospheric disturbance and a lot of wind blowing the telescope about.
I did mange to get this out of the evening, which I am quite pleased with. I'm sure, if I can get some nights where the atmosphere is a bit more stable, that the results will be even better, but for now, its a good start.
This was shot using the 850 pass IR filter and processed in AS!3 and Registax
There are a few stacking errors at the top and bottom of the shot, but they don't detract too much from the image
This extended "holiday" has given me a boot in the ass I really wasn't expecting to get right now. I've known for a long time that there was a high chance that my son could end up showing signs of mental illness. It runs on both sides of his family. The signs have been there since he first started talking and whenever he felt really bad about anything he told us he wanted to stab himself with a sword. I don't know what parent's blood wouldn't run cold at hearing their two year old say such a thing, but for a person who went through suicidal periods- hearing him say such things felt like being killed myself.
For many years people have advised me not to "project" my own issues onto him. Since I've never told him I ever wanted to kill myself I don't think I was projecting myself onto him much. For years people have said "He's so young, just wait and see." Or they've said "Oh, he's just a normal kid, they all say that kind of stuff." But when I ask directly if their kids have talked like him they have always had to admit that theirs hadn't.
With Max's food issues people have consistently insisted that he is just playing us for power and that we're letting him step all over us. We've known differently. People are always trying to make it our own fault or suggest that Max is just being a spoiled kid because poor kids wouldn't ever get to choose what they eat and no kid will choose to starve.
But as I have been trying to just watch and listen, wait and see, I have seen him develop more and more into a vibrant version of Philip and I. Most parents would be thrilled because isn't that what so many people want? Little "minnie me's"? Which I think is creepy, but who cares what I think, huh? I never looked for my kid to be exactly like me and I have always been hopeful that in many ways he would not be like me because being me has been a 39 year challenge I wouldn't dream of sticking anyone else with.
I honestly don't understand how I managed to talk myself into believing that I could have a baby who wouldn't get my mental illness. But, I have agreed not to sit around mourning what I can't change and feeling like a piece of shit for being selfish enough to have a child.
So all these years I've been trying not to jump any gun or race to consign my child to a clinical labeling. But there comes a time when a mother knows better than everyone else- besides a professional psychologist. There comes a time when a mother has seen her child suffer for long enough with something he has little control over and isn't aware of. There comes a time when it hurts too much to watch; unable to help enough, unable to ease through every minute.
The truth is pretty hideous: I can't do this without professional help anymore. No, that's not quite the truth that I need to put out there into the light... OK. OK.
Parenting has driven me to drink. Most seriously. My goal this year is to lose weight, to drink a lot less beer, and to be healthier both physically and psychologically. Which I am unable to do while my child is so challenging to raise.
There. It is said. The horrible ugly is said at last. Having him home so much longer than usual has highlighted some things I've been worried about but which are now so blaringly obvious that if I ignore them any longer and anything bad happens to my boy because of it I won't forgive myself later.
The truth is that both my husband and my son need psychological help and yet I'm the only one in the family who is medicated. But never medicated enough and the longer they go without therapy or medication the harder I drink, the less I sleep, the fatter I get. I'm not saying I don't make choices here. But I'm saying that all these choices I am making are allowing me to put off complete mental exhaustion. They are giving me some kind of mental calm that otherwise would be decimated by everyone else's panic attacks in this house.
I can't force Philip to get help, and anyway, neither of us have medical insurance and won't be able to afford counseling or extra meds until we do. Or until we're making a lot more money than we seem capable of.
Max has medical insurance, however, and so it is time to get him professional help. I have been writing this post for two days now and have wrestled with the question of putting it here on my blog. I know so many people who would think putting something so personal about their kid out there for others to read is a violation of their privacy. There is some merit in that. But this is my story too. And if there is only one thing I can teach him in this life I hope to God it will be to never be ashamed of mental illness.
I have decided that telling it here is better. If he's angry at me for doing it when he's older then we can fight it out. Parents who keep this kind of stuff private are rarely spared anger anyway because what I've observed about parenting is that you can never do it right. Cardinal rule: you will fuck it all up.
How many other parents have asked themselves the same questions I have? How many other parents have had to make choices and decisions for their children that were terrifying and wished to god it was all easier to talk about? I'm not going to hide it. Someone else out there is wishing they didn't have to feel so alone and wishes they could know what other parents are doing in the same circumstances. God knows I wish I could know more parents who have a child like mine so I can know how they survive it. So I could navigate this terrifying path with a little more light.
This week I begin the process of finding a proper psychologist to assess Max because I believe he suffers from OCD and generalized anxiety. I am confident that I am not going to find I'm far wrong. I knew what I suffered from before I got an official diagnosis and I also was not wrong when I guessed my own mother's diagnosis which was confirmed several months ago.
I have made the following list to submit to Max's doctor:
Fiber Texture Sensitive: he won't wear denim or any slightly stiff cotton. He prefers sweat pants or soft sporty fabrics. Is very disturbed by seams in his clothing if he can feel them.
Other texture sensitivities: bumps in his socks he will not tolerate. He'll try on four pairs a morning to find a pair without them. If his clothes don't hang right they will drive him crazy. Mostly he's happiest when he's just in his pajamas at home. Things itch him and hurt him and bother him that seem inconsequential to everyone else. Getting him dressed has been a nightmare since he could fight me over it at 18 months old. Hates hats because they hurt his head.
Food Texture Sensitive: nothing mushy, EVER. Crisp textures are the best. When anything that's supposed to be crisp goes even slightly stale he won't eat it. Doesn't like wet textures, for example: if you wash slices of peeled apples because they got crumbs on them he won't eat them. Anything that is sticky is usually despised, especially if it gets on his face, hands, or clothes. Won't eat bread that is too dry and dense nor bread that is too white and squishy.
Taste Sensitive: This is a constantly evolving and revolving issue which drives me to drink.* He has such an advanced sense of taste that he can tell the difference between three vanilla ice cream brands. He likes things one day (or maybe for three) and then suddenly it tastes bad. Sometimes we go through periods where everything tastes bad. If you slightly over toast anything he can taste it as burnt.
More taste sensitivities: he once claimed for almost two weeks that everything tasted like coffee and it was almost impossible to feed him anything. I still don't know how he knows what coffee tastes like but he says his dad gave him a sip once.
Foods can't touch: If there is a microscopic crumb on a piece of peeled apple, he won't eat it. If he thinks his food has come in contact with any other food, he won't eat it. Especially if he suspects that it's come in contact with any of our food. He hates sitting next to other people's food, especially if he can smell it. Won't drink water if the outside of the cup is wet. Won't eat food if there is a drop of water on the plate. Won't eat two kinds of food on the same plate or at the same time. Won't sit at a table to eat meals. Ever since he was a toddler the only way we could get him to pay attention enough to his food to eat it was to let him watch movies while he ate it so that he wasn't really paying attention to it at all.
Foods can't be irregular: if an apple has a speck of a brown spot on it, he won't eat it. If there are holes in his bread, he won't eat it. If his egg hangs over his toast, he won't eat it. If an egg has a crispy edge he won't eat it and shivers in repulsion. If the egg has holes in it he won't eat it. If anything doesn't look like it's the right color or the texture is off or some piece of the food is ragged he won't touch it. I once got him to eat an irregular piece of cucumber by making him close his eyes and letting me feed it to him.
Other red flag issues: Often demands that we wash our hands before touching his food. Although he doesn't seem overly concerned about germs in general, we were sharing a piece of ice cream pie at a restaurant and he requested his own so that he wouldn't have to worry about touching our "spit area". He won't drink water that has sat around for too long. He won't let you reuse a bowl for a snack unless you wash it first.
Doesn't like leaving the house: He says he doesn't like going far from the house because it isn't comfortable. He hates going downtown, out to eat, to most people's houses, to school, to take a trip (unless it's to visit his friend Sam in California), or to go to friends' houses. He prefers friends to come here. If we let him he would stay in his pajamas for weeks on end and never set foot outside.
Doesn't play well with others: He really freaks out when people mess with his stuff. If they mess up his "set up" of Legos he treats it like a human rights violation and his friends and family don't like that so much. If they don't play exactly as he directs them to play he freaks out and has what appears to be a panic attack. Or gets angry. And yells. He can always tell when his stuff has been messed with. He arranges everything precisely. His favorite activity every morning (when he was ten months old) was to arrange a stack of videos very neatly and precisely. It was fascinating to watch.
He is extremely sensitive: It is the easiest thing in the world to hurt his feelings. Try joking with him. He tries to joke with other people but generally can't tell when they are trying to joke with him and takes offense. If people tease him he takes it seriously and thinks everyone hates him and feels like a horrible outcast. His hurt feelings alternate with retaliatory feelings of revenge.
Not overly sensitive to others: A great combination of traits, huh? He has almost no self control when it comes to voicing his opinions and feelings which are often very honest and frank and therefore quite upsetting to everyone. He doesn't understand that this is the same thing that others do that hurt his feelings. He doesn't seem to mean to hurt people and feels bad when you call him on it but continues to say whatever is on his mind at all times.
Expresses himself violently: With words. If he feels bad about something he's done he expresses it by saying things like "I should just die" or "I don't even deserve to have a family" or "I'm going to kill myself" or if someone has really hurt him he says things like "I hate so-and-so and will never talk to them again..." or worse yet "If so-and-so does that to me again I will kick him in the balls". Very extreme expression. Self harm has been in his vocabulary since he could talk. He used to bite himself frequently.
Odd quirks: He doesn't want to throw anything away. He tries to keep all the packaging to the toys he receives, all the instructions, and even the stupid little ads they always include. He won't throw old toys away either, not even if they're broken. He revealed to me one evening that he thought all his things had feelings and would be upset if he threw them away. He also doesn't like it when I clean the house because when it's clean he's uncomfortable. When the living room is tidy he says it's too "empty" and it bothers him.
Physical panic: Whenever he experiences physical pain or discomfort he dives quickly into panic mode in which you can hardly help him because he has already decided nothing can help and he won't let you near, but simultaneously he is screaming that he needs help and why don't you do something?! It doesn't matter if it's something really bad (it sometimes is, like the metal in his eye, and sometimes it's not, like a mild bug bite) his reaction is generally pretty severe. Yet I have seen the kid take the most intense falls from his bike and get up without a flinch even while he's bleeding profusely from the knee.
The Negative spiraling: One little thing going wrong in his day or his routine can make him see his entire life as a giant black hole of pain and decide that life is impossible and he sees no choice but to give up. Talking him out of his negative state is as exhausting as it is futile. It is strong and it is real to him. He can extrapolate the miserable outcome of any experience into the worst case scenario before you can take your first swig of beer.
Afraid of the dark: Lots of kids are afraid of the dark. Mine is very serious about it. Needs full lights on and prefers the hall lights on as well. He suffers bad nightmares often and this doesn't help. We used to turn the lights off after he went to sleep but he would wake up in the dark and be terrified so often that we haven't dared try that for at least a year or longer. He isn't a good sleeper and never has been, although it's become easier and better over time.
Random texture aversions: he hates anything sticky on his skin. He has an extreme aversion to getting blood on his fingers which has been quite an inconvenience since he has a terrible problem with gushing bloody noses. He would rather let the blood drip to the floor and wait until we find him tissues than to put pressure on his nose with his own finger which inevitably gets bloody. Which he then panics about. Not too keen to play on grass. Doesn't like to be barefoot outside, ever. He also will not sleep with flannel because it freaks him out.
Routines: All kids seem to thrive on routines but our kid holds firm to our routines as though his life depended on everything being the same at all times, every day. He hates going to new places, especially new places to eat. He hates going to new people's houses. He has daily routines that he will go to great lengths to maintain such as- eating his dessert, then pajamas, then brushing his teeth, then snuggle time. God forbid you ask him to brush his teeth before putting his pajamas on.
Deep Worry: He thinks very deeply about everything and unfortunately often worries about things as well and can't let go. When we moved he was really worried about our old cat Ozark who had been buried in our old yard last February. He kept thinking about him being alone there without us and feeling sad and abandoned. He thinks about the universe- galaxies and is very concerned about how they were formed and he wants to understand everything so much and it really disturbs him to get ambiguous answers. He's worried about so many things and there just aren't enough answers.
Over this vacation his world has shrunk and because of being snowed in and having a negative experience with a friend at the beginning of it he has not wanted to play with any friends (we've strong armed him anyway) and all he wants to do is remain in his pajamas every single day all day, he wants both his parents to never have to work again so they can stay home with him, and he wants us to play with him. He doesn't want to go outside, play with friends, see anyone but us (and his Grandma).
I suddenly saw what was happening- his world just became extremely small. It is very hard to be the only companion of a child. I don't want to be playing Legos and Bionicles for the next ten years. He should be playing with other kids and doing parent/kid things with us like baking cookies, reading, going on hikes, or to the park. I asked him why he never wants to go anywhere and he told me that it's because he isn't comfortable anywhere else. If I let him he will be a confirmed agoraphobic by the time he's nine years old.
So few parents understand what it's like to have a child like mine, unless they have a child like mine. The pain I feel for what he goes through and how easily he is misunderstood is like having my heart broken every single day. The wedge it puts between me and other parents makes me lonely and then when I get to talk to a parent who is having similar experiences it's like getting the freshest breath of air but I also feel like I want to monopolize them and suck their energy up because I don't have any of my own anymore so sometimes I keep my distance so I don't scare them off and that's lonely too.**
So much good is happening right now. So many positive changes have been finally coming through and I want Max to feel them too but instead he's just getting worse and worse. So while I really want to stop drinking a six pack of beer a night so that I can stop being fat and miserable which isn't how my spirit wants to feel- I am going to have to find a way to make my parenting life a hell of a lot less stressful because I can't parent my child right now on less than six beers a night.
Don't any of you dare judge me unless you have gone through what I go through every day. Don't anyone dare dish me up platitudes or tell me that going to alcoholics anonymous will give me the strength to live in a house with two untreated mentally ill people because I already know it aint so. I am never drunk and am not exactly ashamed of doing what I've had to do to not kill myself at the end of the day when it's been one long stream of panic attacks from three directions.
Every time I think I've spilled my darkest secrets I seem to find there's more. More. And more.
I know what my child needs and it isn't vitamin B12 (though, with his diet it's tempting to suspect a vitamin deficiency- we keep him on a steady supply of multi vitamins usually) nor does he need some metaphysical intervention. What he needs is a professional assessment so his options can be sorted through. He needs more support than he can get from his mentally ill parents. He needs therapy and possibly medication. And if I choose to wait until he's older it could be too late.
So along with the rest of my life I'm trying to clean up this year this will also need addressing because it is one of the greatest sources of stress in my life and it's not one that a hot bath can make disappear. If I'm going to reach my goals this year then I have to step up to the plate and stop being afraid of saying what needs to be said, of addressing the thing that scares the goddamn crap out of me. I've listened to other people long enough.
I've listened to them and I've listened to Max.
Max is this huge light of a person who's gifts are pretty incredible. He will never be like other kids or people because he was born to lead his own brigade. But he won't be able to see or use his own gifts unless his brain is allowed to rest. The greatest way that I can show my love to this amazing child of mine is to show him how to help his brain function better, to show him that having a mental illness can be a pain in the ass but most of us people with mental illnesses are people everyone else needs. We are people who see differently and have the power to show others how to see differently too; through many mediums such as art, science, words, and music. Mental illness can uncover what lies beneath the layers of this human sheen.
I am scared to get him an official diagnosis but I'm even more scared of what will happen to us all if I don't.
*I wasn't kidding. I'm still not kidding.
**A couple of blog friends of mine have been so generous as to share with me their own similar challenges with their kids and I have one local friend who knows what I go through because of her own experience with similar issues and I cannot stress enough how much it means to me when someone talks to me who knows what I have gone through and helps me not feel like an asshole or a failure of a parent. You know who you are- you have made me feel so much less alone and the three of you have offered much needed balm to me- THANK YOU!
Isn't it funny how you could spend days looking for specific subject matter to photograph without any luck and when you least expect it along comes something right out of the blue. I was sitting in my living room when my wife noticed this beautiful crane fly on the balcony door screen. I took a couple of shots from inside then managed to go outside and shoot a few of him from that side too. First one I have ever seen.
He is a giant of his species and looks even better on black.
expecting a baby #baby #expecting #patchworkapp #flatdesign #illustration #design #graphic #art #vector #graphicdesign #digitalart #geometry #iconic #mimimal #love #kawaii #cute #tokyo #japan #nemury #イラスト #幾何学 #フラットデザイン #妊娠
I wasn't expecting the fog to be so thick or last so long when I planned a sunrise photoshoot. Two hours later it was starting to clear a bit, so I decided to fly the quadcopter to see what was visible. The fog bank was thicker than 100 m, but patches were clearing and I was able to grab a panorama of the old Walker Sawmill.
This 360° aerial panorama was stitched from 26 photographs with PTGUI Pro and touched up in Affinity Photo and Aperture.
Original size: 13000 × 13000 (169.0 MP; 304.96 MB).
Location: East Duffins Headwaters, Ontario, Canada
Brad and Steph are awaiting the arrival of their third daughter. Should be any day now....
Strobist with Pentax 360 FGZ with silver umbrella to left, natural light from window on the right. Triggered with Cactus V2s. I didn't use much light from the flash because I didn't want to loose the feel of the natural light. I used just enough to fill in the shadows a tiny bit.
Blogged: www.scotthawker.com/blog/ladyhawker/2008/02/02/Have-strob...
Expecting to see MILW 261 here, but instead BN 5568 showed up leading a kickass all-green consist on an empty coal train east of Galva, IL.
This was the "Trip from Hell" excursion day where 261 went limp at Meredith.
June 27, 1998.
”You did rather well against Cain. Better than I expected.”
”Try not to sound too sarcastic.”
”I’m not. You genuinely did better than I expected.”
”Oh?”
”I thought Cain would have killed you.”
”Well he wasn’t exactly friendly. The stab wound on my back would agree to that.”
”It’s a lesson. You’ll know never to allow your opponent to dictate the position of your body again.”
”AHHHH! Watch it will ya?”
”I can leave it to get infected if you really want.”
”No it’s just…”
”Sore? I’d hope so. Last thing I want is for Cain to be going easy on you.”
”Your concern is greatly apprecia…….ah Christ!”
”Stop being such a cry baby. Face the consequences of your actions.”
”I am!”
”I don’t just mean this wound. You also must confront what your actions caused that night in Crime alley.”
”I do. Every single day I open my eyes.”
”You dream about the life you might have had had you simply managed to sit through the show. The life you’ve always wanted. With them….”
”Leave them out of this.”
”It’s unavoidable. They’re part of you, and thus they can never be left in the past. No matter how desperately you attempt to bury their memory.”
”Stop talking about them.”
”Your inability to discuss them freely confirms my suspicions. Like most, you fear the consequences of your actions and rather than confront them, you choose to deny them.”
”I’m warning you Talia. Stop mentioning them.”
”Or what? You’ll lash out at me in anger? Run as you’ve always done? Or will you be a man and confront the consequences of your actions. Take responsibility for all that you have done.”
”There was nothing I could do.”
”There’s always something that can be done Bruce. You simply need the will to act.”
Despite my attempts to purge the memories of that night in Crime alley, it’s inescapable. Then again, the truth often is….
“Thomas are you sure we should be walking out the back door of the theatre? Surely we could just walk out the front door.”
“Yeah we could do Martha but it’ll take us five minutes to get to Alfred through the sea of press. This way he can pick us up at the end of the alley without being hounded by the press and we can get Bruce back to bed. He does have school tomorrow after all.”
“Well I don't like the look of this place. Stay close to me Bruce.”
“Alright Mom. But I think we’ll be all right. Father tends to know best after all.”
“Well I wouldn’t go that far, but he does know Gotham better than most people so I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. Come along.”
“Well, well. Looks like we’ve got the whole Wayne brigade out tonight!”
The figure remains hidden in the shadows but raises his right hand to reveal a gun. Mother panics and grabs hold of me. Father pulls out his wallet from his inside suit pocket and reaches into it before pulling out all the money he has.
“Pffft you think I can be bought off just like that? Sorry Wayne, but it’s not money I’m after. It’s vengeance.”
“Vengeance? What have I done to you? What has my family ever done to you?”
<“You’ve done a lot to me, even if you don’t want to admit it. Tommy.”
“Tommy?”
“Here’s a hint.”
Instinctively, I race forward and grab the robber’s hand before he has a chance to pull the trigger.
“Bruce!”
In the distance I hear Mother calling out to me but I’m transfixed on ensuring that I don’t let go of this guy’s hand. Almost immediately, my Father comes to my aid and punches our attacker in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Before the robber has a chance to make another move, I bite his hand causing him to drop the gun.
“AHHH! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”
Immediately, he takes a swing towards me only to be greeted by my Father’s fist. Evidently it was a hell of a blow as the assailant collapses to the ground.
”Martha. Take Bruce. Get Alfred.”
“But Thomas…”
”JUST DO IT!”
Without another word, Mother follows Father’s instructions and grabs hold of my hand to lead me out of the alley way as Father picks up the gun.
Deep down, I dream of that scenario every night. Or at least, I tell myself that I do. What might have happened had I been willing to act. Would they have still died? Or would my life have changed for the better? Sadly, there’s no way that I’ll ever know. All I can do now is look forward and accept that I can’t change the past. But I can change the future. My future.
”If it wasn’t for me. They’d still be here.”
”It’s possible.”
”I know that they would be.”
”It’s a big world Bruce. You can’t stop it from taking lives.”
”No, but I could have stopped it had I not been born.”
”…You shouldn’t things like that?”
”Why? It’s true. The world would be a better place were it not for me. My father probably would have transformed Gotham into the perfect utopia he envision, my Mother would have eliminated poverty in Gotham and Alfred would probably be more than happy not having to raise an ungrateful little brat.”
”You really think the world would be better without you?”
”I don’t think it would be. I know it would be. I have nothing worth living for without them, at least if I’d died they would have had each. ”
Talia pauses for a moment, clearly uncertain about what she’s just unearthed within me. After a good few seconds though, she responds by lifting her blade from the nearby table and presenting the hilt to me.
”What are you doing?”
”If you really have nothing to live for. Why draw things out any longer?”
To say her response caught me by surprise would be an understatement. Talia had hardly been the living embodiment of friendship, but her willingness to allow me to take my own life caught me off guard. This wasn’t the first time I’d considered suicide. Hell I almost jumped off the roof of Wayne Manor hours after my parents were gunned down. But to see someone willing to indulge my desire threw everything in perspective.
As I grabbed the hilt of her blade and took a moment to inspect it, my mind was racing whilst trying to decide what action to take. Am I brave enough to take my own life? Is it that simple? Can I do it?.....Is it what I want?
My hesitation on performing the act says it all to Talia though, and she proceeds to slowly walk up to me and gently take the blade from me. Unable to move due to my indecision, I simply stand still and watch as she returns the blade to its spot on the table.
What comes next though is what shocks me the most.
Talia walks up to me, I fear she’s about to punish me for considering the coward’s way out.
Instead, she simply grabs hold my hands and looks straight into my eyes.
”We all have something to live for Bruce. For good or bad. Whether you want to admit it or not, there are people who would miss you if you were gone.”
With that, she kisses me on my left cheek.
Miraculous. I’d seen Talia gut men before my very eyes and be more than dismissive about my chances of survival under her father’s tuition, and yet in those few moments. I saw something beautiful. I saw the real Talia Al-Ghul.
”You’ll always matter here. Don’t ever forget that.”
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Happy Batman day everyone!
Of all the great things I discovered in Saskatchewan, the greatest was (surprise!) the least expected. I met a photographer who, lo and behold, is like a younger, more talented, much more energetic version of me. (Oh, and male. Like a long-lost little brother I never knew I had.)
Some day I hope to see him again, so we and our cameras can have a good playdate. Even if I don't, I've already benefited hugely from our meeting. He convinced me, by showing me amazing shots I couldn't figure out, that it's high time I explored the world of off-camera flash.
I'm always gonna love natural light; it's all I've ever really used - just because it's always available, and I've been too busy learning the basics to take that next big step. Clearly, I'm ready. I can't hardly wait to dig in to my new "lighting 101" kit. It should be here in a matter of hours... oh, I can hardly stand the excitement!
Meanwhile... this place here. Sad. It's so very sad. It never had indoor plumbing or a bathroom or much in the way of convenience... but its two (count 'em, two) ironing boards live on in the bedroom... along with half a dozen beautiful handmade white cotton-and-lace slips. And of course this letter box. It's empty, but it's made of thin metal so it might have held all kinds of wonders in its day.
I don't suppose these places will survive much longer. Once the roof caves in, it's pretty much over and this roof is close to collapse. (Another layer of sadness on the other layers of sadness. And so it goes, from death to decay to disappearance.)
My friends Tammy & Daylong are expecting to have a baby girl at the end of this month. On Saturday Tammy's sister hosted a baby shower for her and it was a lot of fun.
It was Tea Party theme and all pink! I think if Tina could have made the food pink, she would, lol.
Taken for 52 Week Project: Week 9 - Surroundings.
This is going to be long but hey... its my 365th picture, so I am entitled to it right?
365 of 365 – that’s my 365 project done! But really? Was it a 365 project? Technically speaking and to be honest, NO... it wasn’t! A 365 project is where you take a shot every day for 365 days in a year. Of course, you are going to miss some days especially when you are doing it as a hobby and have a job, commitments etc but I would expect this rate to be less than 5%. I started my 365 on 1st April 2009 and it has taken me 511 days to complete it. Within that time, I had to take 2 breaks of about 2 months each to accommodate holidays, personal commitments and to take some time off from the 365! Even when I was doing the 365 I missed so many days that I can’t be bothered counting! So, I really, really, really can’t put myself in the same league as all those 365ers who do this day in day out for a year with such commitment and enthusiasm. Hats off to those 365ers – I really know the effort you put in to it.
But what was I trying to achieve with this project? I wanted to start using my camera, start learning to use it, expand my knowledge, be more creative, understand lighting, be able to shoot people without freezing up, confuse people with all my strobist info, etc. Have I achieved all that? The answer to that questions is a resounding YES! I was able to do all that and more. There is no denying the advantages of doing a 365 project if you are really passionate about photography. It really gets you off your backside and makes you want to do better. It’s a constant challenge trying to be better and do better.
One of the best things to result from this 365 is the contacts that I have made on flickr and other sites! You guys are truly awesome. Thank you so very much for all the comments, faves, encouragement and advice you have given me. I truly appreciate the time and effort. I hope that I will be able to give back as much as I have been given.
There is so much to say but I will end up by giving some sagely advice. A 365 is what you make it – it really is not worth taking a shot every day just so that you are fulfilling this criteria. You may have taken a shot every day for a year but if you are not happy with your project by the end of it, you really haven’t achieved anything. You should be happy with what you are doing and be proud of it as well. Which is why I needed to take a break from my 365 – I was suffering from 365 burnout and I felt my photography was suffering because of it. By taking a break, I was able to re-evaluate, regroup and come back to the project with enthusiasm. And I think this helped me a great deal to improve my pictures. A 365 project is something that you do for yourself – you make the rules, you decide on how to stick to it.
Small note - All this wouldn't be possible without my one and only true love - who got me interested in photography, encouraged me, gave me ideas and kicked my backside when I was slacking. Love you very much and thank you for being with me!
Over and out.
Oh.... I almost forgot to confuse you with the Lighting info – bare Sigma EF500 and bare 430EX both at 1/8 behind model on either side; generic Ying Yang flash at 1/1 (no output control) bounced against white board in front of model and slightly to camera left; triggered by Cactus V4 and optical trigger (on 430EX); A bit of flare was added on in photoshop.
I was slowly writing testimonials for everybody...but did not post them yet...But Mark wrote me a wonderfully beautiful testimonial and i was like "he is so great" and then BLAM!...it reminded me of all the testimonials I I wrote for all you...so I sent out what I had done so far today....and some i rewrote...so go check your guys testimonials : ] and if you don't have one yet, well, that means it will be on the way soon....it takes some good time to write one... :D
so being tagged by an amazing person of talent… Zoe…………..not new :] but a new way to do it..
so…, I woke up ok, but had this (1)sinus headache that really sucked, but it happens….as I got up and checked e-mail and then logged on to the (2)'puter/flickr I found Marks intriguing flickr mail….it made me smile and think "how cool"…..I checked out the people in the house (family staying with me from out of town) and everything was cool…. (3) I always thought what would happen if the world realized we are not alone, and we should except each other as people on the earth….(4) dogs are so loyal….(5) I was at a light and i see someone taking their time turning, when we all know that the "turning light" only allows a certain amount of time/cars to go through the green light….but when everybody is screwed and the "someone" is on the side of me, i see that they are on their cell phone and are oblivious to what is around them…..one word, karma. (6) I love speed….(7) I miss my multi colored hair of blond/dark/red/brown….(8) I am seeing supernatural T.V. show..and it rules…. (9) love is not here…(10) be invisible…..
I am back at home in Chez Jelltex; Mulder is meowing just before dawn, in which case its situation normal. My longer than expected hike the day before meant that my legs were aching to buggery, but it is better than them stopping working.
Jools has to be up and about to go to work, but lucky me is working from home, so I can lay in bed a while enjoying the moment, but then I can smell coffee brewing, so I had better face the world. There is coffee on the table, but the cats have gone out exploring after eating, and so once Jools has left, its just me. However, the cats come in one at a time to request more food. At least not all at once.
Molly must think I'm looking a little peaky, as she brings me in a partially eaten Goldfinch and a large mouse/small rat, which I don't look at too closely.
Work is pretty much as usual, there is stuff to do, mails to send, calls to write, fires to put out. The usual.
Cheese and toast for lunch whilst I work. Somehow the volume of work wasn't what I was expecting, I guess what it being an hour ahead in Dk and being Friday afternoon. By two, mails had stopped and I can see most of my colleagues offline. I pack up for the week and get my camera gear together as there was some photographing to do.
This weekend in September is Heritage Weekend, and that means getting into churches that usually are locked. In addition, another area of Pugin's house in Ramsgate had been renovated and opened, so it seemed a good idea to go there in the 90 minutes before it closed. I think it was just about worth it.
Jools comes home, changes and we get in the car and take the Sandwich road, pretty much the same way I used to go to the office in Ramsgate when I was just an technical assistant, not that long ago, but in terms of my journey, ages ago! Traffic was a little crazy, but that is to be expected, but in the warm sunny weather, it was very pleasant indeed.
We park near The Grange, and have about an hour to get the visit done. I go straight to the Presbytery, just about the first to be built in Britain since the middle ages, designed by Pugin, and now converted by the Landmark Trust and now available for holiday rental. They have done a great job, and it feels like a fine place for up to four people can have a great stay, and help support the good cause.
I go round snapping each room, climbing the two sets of stairs to see the bedroom at the top, then back down again. What I can say is that it feels more of a home thand homely than The Grange, I think I could happily stay here. Stay and maybe never leave, mind.
Jools goes to see inside The Grange, but I have been in before, so chat with a guide outside, and I tell her about my job in the survey business. She is really interested, or says she is anyway. I do go in and take a few shots, and see that with the new camera/lens combination, the shots are fabulous. Just wish I had more time to get round.
We go back to the car as its four, and the buildings and church are closing.
I now spring it onto Jools that we are heading into Canterbury, as there is a church open that evening, that should be interesting. She takes the news well, so we drive round the outskirts of the city so to approach the right part, park up close to the chapel. We make better time that I thought, so we have time for a pint in the Two Brewers near to St Augustine's Abbey. This is the life, finished for the weekend, en route to a chapel and drinking beer and eating cheese and onion crisps; living the dream.
From the pub is was a short walk through the underpass then along the city wall to the Zoar Chapel.
You read that right; Zoar. Seems that being a Baptist isn't enough, you can have Strict and/or Peculiar Baptists too, and this is the Chapel of the Particular Strict Baptists in the city. The chapel has had an interesting life too; a former bastion in the city wall, then converted for use as a water cistern before the conversion to a church in the 19th century.
We are welcomed, but not that warmly, or I might have imagined it, I mean they open the chapel on all four days of the weekend, so they must be proud of the chapel. And rightly so, all lines with white painted wood, almost round, and looking really very fine indeed. I get my shots, talk politely, then we make our way back to the car and home.
We have run out of time for that day, so return home ready to have some dinner, as our appetites are raging. And as you will come to expect, its insalata caprese once again, with cheese and pickle bread, thickly sliced and buttered. Add a bottle of red wine, and it is perfect.
The cats are happy too, we have fed them and as we slob around the house, they ask for attention, food or whatever. Outside the sun sets on a fine late summer evening, whilst the moon has already risen and looks about half full already.
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Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin (1 March 1812 – 14 September 1852) was an English architect, designer, artist and critic, chiefly remembered for his pioneering role in the Gothic Revival style; his work culminated in the interior design of the Palace of Westminster. Pugin designed many churches in England, and some in Ireland and Australia.[1] Pugin was the son of Auguste Pugin, and the father of E.W. and Peter Paul Pugin, who continued his architectural firm as Pugin & Pugin.
Pugin was the son of a French draughtsman, Auguste Pugin, who had come to England as a result of the French Revolution and had married Catherine Welby of the Denton, Lincolnshire Welby family.[3] Augustus was born at his parents' house in Bloomsbury. Between 1821 and 1838 Pugin's father had published a series of volumes of architectural drawings, the first two entitled, Specimens of Gothic Architecture, and the following three, Examples of Gothic Architecture, that were to remain both in print and the standard references for Gothic architecture for at least the next century.
As a child he was taken each Sunday by his mother to the services of the fashionable Scottish Presbyterian preacher Edward Irving (later founder of the Holy Catholic Apostolic Church), at his chapel in Cross Street, Hatton Garden.[4] He soon rebelled against this version of Christianity: according to Benjamin Ferrey, Pugin "always expressed unmitigated disgust at the cold and sterile forms of the Scotch church; and the moment he broke free from the trammels imposed on him by his mother, he rushed into the arms of a church which, pompous by its ceremonies, was attractive to his imaginative mind".
Pugin learned drawing from his father, and for a while attended Christ's Hospital. After leaving school he worked in his father's office, and in 1825 and 1827 accompanied him on visits to France.[6] His first commissions independent of his father were for designs for the goldsmiths Rundell and Bridge, and for designs for furniture at Windsor Castle, from the upholsterers Morrel and Seddon. Through a contact made while working at Windsor, he became interested in the design of theatre scenery, and in 1831 obtained a commission to design the sets for the production of a new opera called Kenilworth at Covent Garden.[7] He also developed an interest in sailing, and briefly commanded a small merchant schooner trading between Britain and Holland, which allowed him to import examples of furniture and carving from Flanders,with which he later furnished his house at Ramsgate.[8] During one voyage in 1830 he was wrecked on the Scottish coast near Leith,[9] as a result of which he came into contact with Edinburgh architect James Gillespie Graham, who advised him to abandon seafaring for architecture.[10] He then set up a business supplying historically accurate carved wood and stone details for the increasing number of buildings being constructed in the Gothic style, but the enterprise soon failed.
In 1831, aged nineteen, Pugin married the first of his three wives, Anne Garnet.[11] Anne died a few months later in childbirth, leaving him with a daughter. He had a further six children, including the architect Edward Pugin, with his second wife, Louisa Button, who died in 1844. His third wife, Jane Knill, kept a journal of their married life together, between their marriage in 1848 and his death; it was later published.[12] Their son was Peter Paul Pugin.
In 1834, Pugin became a Roman Catholic convert,[16] and was received into the Church in the following year.[17] Pugin's father Auguste-Charles Pugin, was a Frenchman who had come to England as a result of the French Revolution. It is probable that he, like many others, converted to the Anglican faith in order to get work (it was highly unlikely that any non-Anglican could obtain a government commission or tender for example).
British society at this time had many restrictions on any person not adhering to the state religion of the Anglican Church. Non-Anglicans could not attend University, for example as well as being unable to stand for parish or city councils, be an MP, serve as a policeman, in the armed forces or even on a jury. A number of reforms in the early 19th century changed this situation, the most important of which was the Roman Catholic Relief Act of 1829 which specifically abolished the restrictions on Catholics. After 1829 it became (in theory at least) possible to have a successful career while being a Catholic - this was the background to A W Pugin's conversion to the Roman Catholic Church.
However his conversion also brought him into contact with new patrons and employers. In 1832 he had made the acquaintance of John Talbot, 16th Earl of Shrewsbury, a Roman Catholic, sympathetic to his aesthetic views who employed him in alterations and additions to his residence Alton Towers, which subsequently led to many other commissions.[18] Shrewsbury commissioned him to build St. Giles' Catholic Church, Cheadle, completed in 1846, and Pugin was also responsible for designing the oldest Catholic church in Shropshire, St Peter and Paul at Newport.
In 1841 he left Salisbury,[20] finding it an inconvenient base for his growing architectural practice.[21] He sold St Marie's Grange at a considerable financial loss,[22] and moved temporarily to Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. He had however already purchased a piece of land at the West Cliff, Ramsgate, where he proceeded to build himself a large house and, at his own expense, a church on which he worked whenever funds allowed. His second wife died in 1844 and was buried at St. Chad's, Birmingham, a church which he had designed himself.
Following the destruction by fire of the Palace of Westminster in 1834, Pugin was employed by Sir Charles Barry to supply interior designs for his entry to the architectural competition which would determine who would build the new Palace of Westminster. Pugin also supplied drawings for James Gillespie Graham's entry.[24] This followed a period of employment when Pugin had worked with Barry on the interior design of King Edward's School, Birmingham. Despite his conversion to Catholicism in 1834, Pugin designed and refurbished both Anglican and Catholic churches throughout the country.
Other works include St Chad's Cathedral, Erdington Abbey and Oscott College, all in Birmingham. He also designed the college buildings of St Patrick and St Mary in St. Patrick's College, Maynooth; though not the college chapel. His original plans included both a chapel and an aula maxima (great hall), neither of which were built because of financial constraints. The college chapel was designed by a follower of Pugin, the Irish architect J.J. McCarthy. Also in Ireland, Pugin designed St Mary's Cathedral in Killarney, St Aidan's Cathedral, Enniscorthy (renovated in 1996) and the Dominican church of the Holy Cross in Tralee. He revised the plans for St Michael's Church in Ballinasloe, Galway. Pugin was also invited by Bishop Wareing to design what eventually became Northampton Cathedral, a project that was completed in 1864 by Pugin's son Edward Welby Pugin.
Pugin visited Italy in 1847; his experience there confirmed his dislike of Renaissance and Baroque architecture, but he found much to admire in the medieval art of northern Italy.
In February 1852, while travelling with his son Edward by train, Pugin suffered a total breakdown and arrived in London unable to recognise anyone or speak coherently. For four months he was confined to a private asylum, Kensington House. In June, he was transferred to the Royal Bethlem Hospital, popularly known as Bedlam.[26] At that time, Bethlem Hospital was opposite St George's Cathedral, Southwark, one of Pugin's major buildings, where he had married his third wife, Jane, in 1848. Jane and a doctor removed Pugin from Bedlam and took him to a private house in Hammersmith where they attempted therapy, and he recovered sufficiently to recognise his wife.[26] In September, Jane took her husband back to The Grange in Ramsgate, where he died on 14 September 1852.[26] He is buried in his church next to The Grange, St Augustine's, Ramsgate.
On Pugin's death certificate, the cause listed was "convulsions followed by coma". Pugin's biographer, Rosemary Hill, suggests that, in the last year of his life, he was suffering from hyperthyroidism which would account for his symptoms of exaggerated appetite, perspiration, and restlessness. Hill writes that Pugin's medical history, including eye problems and recurrent illness from his early twenties, suggests that he contracted syphilis in his late teens, and this may have been the cause of his death at the age of 40.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augustus_Pugin
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The Grange (aka St Augustine's Grange) in Ramsgate, Kent, on the coast in southern England was the home of the Victorian architect and designer August Pugin. He designed it in the Victorian Gothic style; it is a Grade I listed building.
Pugin bought the land for the site at West Cliff, Ramsgate, in 1841.[2] The house was built between 1843 and 1844 by the builder George Myers. Pugin's second wife died in 1844 and it was only after his third marriage to Jane Knill in 1848 that it became a family home.
The interior of the house was finally completed in 1850. It is built from the inside out in the sense that the layout of the rooms was considered before the outside of the building. This is in contrast to the Georgian style that preceded it. The style was influential on subsequent English architecture designed by architects like Edwin Lutyens.
Pugin died in the house in 1852 at the age of only 40. He is buried in the impressive Pugin chantry chapel in St Augustine's Church, next to the house, which was also designed by him and completed by his eldest son, Edward Pugin, who was also an architect.
20250426 – working with AI – sometimes finds other ways than expected and opens their eyes to incredible designs and content
Turning up at Torside we expected to photograph from the footbridge, all that was left of it is in the bottom left of the picture!
76053 is rolling west with a load of steel bar from one of the steel plants in the Sheffield/Rotherham area.
76053 left Gorton on14/03/1953 as 26053, it was withdrawn 11/1980 and cut at C.F. Booth in Rotherham in March 1983.
Copyright Geoff Dowling 21/04/1976; all rights reserved.
You can't expect more than this:
this half-frame PEN EE is the two speed model, bought in 1963 by the first owner, as you can see in the invoice :)
Olympus PEN EE
August
1961 presented the
Olympus PEN EE
which was, compared to the models before, completely newly constructed. The PEN EE was now with a selenium light meter and the meter cell around the lens. The former models needed manual exposure setting but the PEN EE had an automatic setting.
The PEN EE was a real snap shot camera.
Due to the fair sales price, this small camera was very popular and sold in high numbers.
The cameras from 1961 were marked on front with Olympus, the cameras built since 1962 with Olympus PEN.
Specifications Type: Olympus PEN EE
Engraving: Olympus - PEN (first models only OLYMPUS)
PEN - EE (on top)
Release date: Juli 1961
Body color: chrom, parts gray
Leather color: gray
Shutter: Copal - X automatic
Shutter-Speeds: 1/60 sec. fix - on later models was 1/30 & 1/250
Flash syncronisation: X
Finder: Bright frame
Rangefinder: none
Film-Advance: Thumb wheel at back
Exposure meter: Selenium
ASA: 10 to 200
Battery: none
Lens: D. Zuiko 1:3.5 f = 2.8 cm
F-Stop range: 3.5 to 16 automatic
Focusing: Fixed focus lens
Elements: 4
Groups: 3