Christies’ clothes have always been highly coveted by my other Barbie dolls, and it still holds true now for the FR and NuFace girls coming into my collection! Christie And The Beat and All-American Christie are all too happy to lend their crucial fashion items to Nadja and Annik!

 

Generosity in bestowing gifts upon others.

Letter generously translated by Nettenscheider; addressed to a Herr Pet. Niessen in Mönchengladbach, the author sends his regards. Photogr. Gerhard Mertens, Aachen. Postage cancelled in Aachen on 7.8.1914.

 

Landwehrmänner in Aachen shortly after the outbreak of war. The men are wearing "161" on their shoulder straps, however their ages tell us they're not the 20 year olds from 10. Rheinisches Inf-Rgt Nr. 161.

 

At the outset of the First World War, every man in Germany between 17 and 45 years of age is required to perform his mandatory military service. During these 28 years, the Germans can be assigned to different categories. Firstly there is the active service of two or three years for each 20-year-old man, which is then followed by a "reserve" for five or six years. The men are then assigned to the Landwehr, where they remain until the age of 39, with less regular exercises. Finally, the last category, the Landsturm, includes all men between 17 and 45 years of age who do not enter into any of the above categories.

Shwedagon - Yangon

 

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Great Ocean Drive- the 12 Apostle's

 

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

 

Today however, we have travelled a short distance west from Cavendish Mews, skirting Hyde Park, around Hyde Park Corner, through Knightsbridge past the Brompton Road and Harrods with its ornate terracotta façade, past the great round Roman amphitheatre inspired Royal Albert Hall that was built in honour of Queen Victoria’s late husband prince Albert in 1861, past Kensington Palace, to Holland Park. It is here, in a cream painted stucco three storey Nineteenth Century townhouse with a wrought and cast iron glazed canopy over the steps and front door, flanked by two storey canted bay windows to each side with Corinthian pilasters, that we find ourselves. Lettice has come to the elegant and gracious home of her widowed future sister-in-law, Clementine (known preferably now by the more cosmopolitan Clemance) Pontefract.

 

Lettice is engaged to Clemance’s elder brother, Sir John Nettleford Hughes. Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John, according to London society gossip enjoys dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. As an eligible man in a aftermath of the Great War when such men are a rare commodity, with a vast family estate in Bedfordshire, houses in Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico and Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, quite close to the Glynes estate belonging to her parents, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, invited him as a potential suitor to her 1922 Hunt Ball, which she used as a marriage market for Lettice. Although she did not become engaged to him then, Lettice did reacquaint herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by mutual friends Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate in 1924. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. She then ran into him again later that year at the Portland Gallery’s autumn show in Soho, where she found him yet again to be a pleasant and attentive companion for much of the evening. Sir John also made a proposition to her that night: he offered her his hand in marriage should she ever need it. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them. When Lettice’s understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, fell apart, Lettice agreed to Sir John’s proposal.

 

Even though Lettice is twenty-four now, as an unmarried young lady, she still must be discreet as to how often she sees her future husband unaccompanied, so as not to sully her reputation. Therefore, Clemance has arranged an afternoon tea for Lettice and Sir John at her elegant Holland Park home where she can be seen, for societal purposes, as a chaperone for Lettice. Clemance’s drawing room is elegantly appointed with the comfortable Edwardian clutter of her continual and conspicuous acquisition that is the hallmark of a lady of her age and social standing. Clusters of floral chintz chairs and sofas are placed around the room in small conversational clutches, whilst elegant French antiques, collected by her and her late husband Harrison during their years living in France, stand around the walls. The room is papered in pale pink Georgian style wallpaper and hung with Eighteenth Century pastoral scenes in gilded frames, whilst the floor is parquet. The room smells of freshly arranged hothouse flowers, and a canary twitters in a cage.

 

The trio are discussing over a tea of chocolate sponge served with cream and strawberries, Lettice’s recent acceptance of world famous British concert pianist, Sylvia Fordyce’s commission to create a feature wall in the drawing room of ‘The Nest’, Sylvia’s discreet country retreat in Essex, which Lettice visited last week. Sylvia is the long-time friend of Sir John and Clemance, and the pair introduced Lettice to Sylvia at a private audience after a Schumann and Brahms piano concert. After a brief chat with Sir John and Clemance, Sylvia had her personal secretary show them out so that she could discuss “business” with Lettice. Anxious that like so many others, Sylvia would try to talk Lettice out of marrying Sir John, Lettice was surprised when Sylvia admitted that when she said that she wanted to discuss business, that was what she genuinely meant. Sylvia invited Lettice to motor up to Essex with her for an overnight stay at ‘The Nest’ upon the conclusion of her concert series to see the room for herself, and perhaps get some ideas as to what and how she might paint it.

 

“So,” Sir John says as he sips his tea from one of Clemance’s gilded Art Nouveau patterned Royal Doulton cups. “You’re taking Sylvia’s commission on then, Lettice my dear.”

 

“I am, John.” Lettice agrees, sitting alongside her fiancée on the low backed and comfortable flounced floral chintz sofa.

 

“Oh hoorah!” Clemance exclaims from her own matching armchair opposite, clapping her hands in delight, the action startling the little canary in its cane cage on the pedestal table next to her, causing it to flutter from its perch and twitter loudly in fright. “Oh!” Clemance puts her hands to her mouth as she turns and looks at her little pet. “Oh I’m sorry Josette!” she says in an apologetic tone to the bird, who flutters back to its perch and utters a sharp and shrill cheep at her. “Poor dear creature.”

 

“Who?” Sir John asks. “Sylvia?”

 

“No, Nettie!” Clemance replies using Sir John’s pet name used only by Clemance and his closest friends from his younger days, picking up her own delicate teacup and turning her attentions back to her brother and his fiancée. “Not Sylvia. And don’t be obtuse.” She gives John a peevish look. “There’s nothing poor about Sylvia. No, I was referring to poor Josette.” She indicates with her bejewelled hand in a sweeping gesture to her bird. “I don’t think the poor little creature coped very well with the travel from Paris to London, and she is still trying to adjust to life in Holland Park. I’ve consulted my book of canaries and caged birds,” She pats a blue tooled leather volume with the image of three gilded canaries and the title pressed into the cover atop a stack of books next to the cage. “But all their suggestions on settling birds into new homes seem not to work. The only thing that does seem to work is when I play the piano: Chopin mostly. But for the most part since our arrival in London, Josette sounds so disgruntled.”

 

As if she knows she is being spoken of, the canary utters another angry tweet, causing Lettice and Sir John to glance at one another and share a conspiratorial smile.

 

“Perhaps you should play something for Josette now, Clemmie.” Sir John chuckles, his smile broadening, nodding to Clemance’s beautiful maple grand piano with its lid held open filling a corner of her spacious drawing room.

 

“We might enjoy that too, Clemance.” Lettice adds cheekily, her shoulders quivering with her own laughter.

 

“Oh you two!” Clemance says, flapping her hand at the pair on the sofa opposite her. “You’re as bad as each other, thinking I’m a mad old woman, fussing after my little bird!”

 

“Well, you must confess, Clemmie darling,” Sir John opines to his sister. “It is a little odd, fretting so much over a little thing like that.” He now nods to the chirping bird in the cage.

 

“The only thing odd is your lack of affection for animals, Nettie.” Clemance replies, groaning as she places her hands on the round arms of her chair and pushes herself up and out of the comfortable seat that over the years of owning it, has moulded to her shape. “But then again, you’ve never been an animal lover, have you Nettie darling?”

 

“I call that jolly unfair, Clemmie!” Sir John protests. “I loved the dogs we had when we were growing up.”

 

“Not as much as I did.” Clemance retorts, grasping the single strand of pearls draped down the front of her wisteria patterned crêpe de chine day frock. “You and Mother were always kicking them out of the way.”

 

“John!” Lettice exclaims, depositing her own teacup onto the low maple occasional table in front of her with a clatter and turning in her seat to look at her fiancée with startled eyes. “You didn’t?”

 

“Well, they got in the way.” Sir John defends himself. “They were always under foot. And to correct dear Clemmie’s memory of our childhood, which has become clouded and skewed with the passing decades, I didn’t kick them. Mother did, but I didn’t.”

 

“What would you call it then?” Clemance asks.

 

“I nudged them with my foot, and encouraged them to move, which they always did.”

 

“Well,” Lettice adds with determination. “I certainly hope you won’t be encouraging our dogs to move that way when we’re married.”

 

“Are we getting dogs, Lettice darling?” Sir John asks with arched eyebrows.

 

“Indeed we are!” Lettice replies with a steeliness in her voice. “A house is not a home without dogs.”

 

“Then why don’t you have a dog now, if you love them so slavishly?” Sir John queries, taking another slice of chocolate sponge from the cake plate on the table and depositing it onto his own plate. He looks to his fiancée. “More cake?”

 

“Err, no thank you, John darling.” Lettice shakes her head at the offer. “Anyway, Cavendish Mews is hardly the place for a dog, really, unless it was a small dog.” Lettice explains. “It’s too small, and dogs, even little ones, need space to run around,” She looks at Sir John pointedly. “So that they don’t get under foot. They need nature, and London is in short supply of that.”

 

“There are plenty of parks, Lettice,” Clemance says with an expansive wave that causes her draped sleeve to flutter prettily through the air before settling again. “You could take your dog to one of them.”

 

“Or one of the squares around Mayfair.” Sir John adds.

 

“No.” Lettice disagrees. “Those places are for dogs on leashes. No dog can roam around freely when at the end of a leash.”

 

“Rather like a bird in a cage.” Sir John looks at Clemance.

 

Josette tweets loudly again.

 

“I’ll have you know that Josette was free to fly throughout Harrison’s and my Paris apartment.” Clemance defends herself again.

 

“No doubt making a mess wherever it flew.” Sir John shudders at the thought of bird droppings being discovered around the room.

 

“She,” Clemance says pointedly. “Didn’t make a great deal of mess, any more than she does now.” She folds her arms akimbo in defiance and determination. “And once Josette is settled here, I will allow her out of her cage for a few hours each day, but not yet. She’s too flighty at the moment. She’s as likely to fly out of the nearest open window at present, given half the chance.” She looks indulgently at her canary, who chirps and twitters before pecking lightly at a little silver bell attached to one of the bars of the cage.

 

“You know larks don’t sing when in cages, don’t you Clemmie darling?” Sir John asks his sister, smiling cheekily.

 

Placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward over the table towards her elder brother, Clemance goes on, “My we are full of trivia today, Nettie darling.” She smiles, showing that she is not angry with her brother, and that the lively banter between the two of them is quite normal. “As it happens, I do know that little gem of a fact. Luckily, Josette isn’t a lark. She’s a canary.”

 

“Oh enough of that, you two.” Lettice interrupts. “Please play us something on the piano, Clemance.”

 

“Very well my dear Lettice,” Clemance agrees, moving around the embroidered footstool in front of her chair and gliding between the pedestal table used for Josette’s cage and the rounded arm of the sofa. “But I must warn you that I am no Sylvia Fordyce.”

 

“I’m not expecting such perfection from any mere mortal, dear Clemance.” Lettice assures her with a laugh.

 

Taking a seat on the stool at the piano, Clemance turns to her twittering canary and asks, “So, what shall it be, Josette: a Chopin Polonaise, Mazurka or Nocturn?” When the bird utters a louder chirp when she says the word Mazurka, Clemance continues. “Very good, Josette. A Mazurka it is.

 

As Clemance noisily ruffles through her well-worn sheet music on the piano’s music rack whilst Josette seems to chirp orders at her, Sir John turns back to Lettice. Depositing his plate of half-eaten slice of cake back onto the table he takes her delicate hands in his, enfolding them gently in his own smooth ones. The intimacy of the act still comes as a surprise to Lettice who jumps a little. When Sir John reacts by retracting a little, Lettice apologises to her fiancée for her jumpiness, claiming that she is still trying to get used to the idea of them being engaged. This seems to appease Sir John, and he smiles at Lettice with his blue eyes.

 

“You’ll get used to it soon enough, my dear.” Sir John assures Lettice.

 

“Will I?” Lettice asks, unable to keep an edge of anxiousness out of her voice.

 

“Of course you will, Lettice darling,” he replies. His smile develops a remorseful tinge. “In time.” He squeezes her hands. “You’ll see.”

 

“Yes,” Lettice agrees with a dismissive snort and a beaming smile. “Of course I will.”

 

“We are going to make a good partnership, Lettice: you and I.”

 

“Is that all, John?” Lettice asks, looking earnestly at Sir John.

 

“I’m a successful businessman, Lettice,” Sir John replies with a quizzical look. “And you a budding businesswoman in a world of men. What more do we need?”

 

Lettice remains silent for a moment, contemplating her fiancée’s statement before swallowing the lump in her throat and uttering awkwardly. “Love?”

 

“Now Lettice,” Sir John says seriously in a lowered tone, making sure that Clemance cannot overhear them as she scrambles through her sheets of music. “Love can be quite overrated.”

 

“But I…” Lettice begins.

 

Sir John releases Lettice’s hand and raises his right hand, placing a finger to her lightly painted lips as he shushes her. “I blame the obsession the general populace have with moving pictures now for the focus on love matches nowadays. Love can make things complicated. You saw this with how things ended with your young Spencely.”

 

“Or it can make you happy.” She falls silent for a moment before murmuring almost inaudibly, “I was happy with Selwyn.”

 

“My parents did well enough without it, your grandparents too, didn’t they Lettice? I warned you from the start that my… ahem.” Sir John clears his throat before continuing. “My desires in that regard are complex. You know this. Rest assured Lettice my dear, that I have the greatest of respect for you as a human being, and fondness too.”

 

“Is that all, John?” Lettice whispers.

 

“Perhaps love may come in time, but you cannot, and must not, expect it,” Sir John replies remorsefully. “For I cannot promise it you, Lettice. At the moment, that is reserved for the West End actress Paula Young, until some other little slip of a thing usurps her, and that will happen. Already she is getting cloying and tiresome, so I think it is time to jump ship. You won’t want to be like Paula, full of expectations that are unrealistic which get dashed along with her heart. You know what a broken heart feels like, don’t you? Settle for deep respect and fondness.”

 

“But I…” Lettice begins, but is silenced by her future sister-in-law.

 

“Here we are, Josette.” Clemance says from the piano. “You like this one, so I hope our guests do too.”

 

Clemance begins playing the opening bars of Chopin’s Mazurka, Op 17. No. 4.* The soft, gentle notes of the classical piece echoing from beneath the soundboard seem to echo Lettice’s feelings deep within her chest: a mixture of nervousness and a certain amount of sadness. Clemance’s fingers of both hands move gracefully across the keyboard, bringing the music to life, the tune evidently pleasing Josette as she trills happily from her cage, eyeing her mistress though dark beady eyes.

 

“So tell me, Lettice darling,” Sir John says brightly, adeptly changing the subject as he snatches his plate of half-eaten cake off the table again and settles back into the cosy comfort of the overstuffed Edwardian sofa. “What exactly is Sylvia’s commission?”

 

Lettice is surprised by how easily Sir John can change, from doting fiancée to cool businessman, from serious and intense to exuding good humour and bonhomie as he is now as he lounges back on the sofa eating chocolate sponge cake with cream and strawberries, exuding every confidence, and it makes her wonder who she is really marrying. Perhaps Sir John is right. Love can complicate things, but it seems that her fiancée is intricate and impenetrable enough as it is.

 

“Oh yes!” calls Clemance from the piano as she keeps playing. “Do tell us, Lettice darling. Knowing Sylvia, it’s sure to be something dynamic.”

 

Lettice clears her throat awkwardly as she retrieves her cup of tea from the table and cradles it in her hands. “Well,” she begins, adding a false, bright joviality to her voice as she speaks. “It’s really to undo some work by Syrie Maugham**.”

 

“Oh!” chortles Sir John. “That will set the cat amongst the pigeons***!”

 

“So typically Sylvia,” Clemance agrees with a laugh of her own.

 

“Sylvia always enjoyed being controversial, didn’t she Clemmie, even when you first met as young ladies?”

 

“For as long as I’ve known her, Nettie.”

 

“What is she having you do, Lettice darling?” Sir John asks, intrigued, his empty fork paused midway between his mouth and his lap.

 

“Well, she had Syrie Maugham decorate her drawing room at ‘The Nest’.” Lettice begins.

 

“Oh, that’s her little country retreat, isn’t it?” Clemance asks.

 

“Yes, it is.” Lettice concurs. “It’s in Essex, just outside of Belchamp St Paul****. I went to stay there so I could see the room for myself.”

 

“Lucky you, Lettice darling.” Clemance remarks. “I haven’t been invited yet.”

 

“Be fair, Clemmie darling, you’ve not been back in the country all that long,” Sir John defends Sylvia. “And it has only been a few weeks since Sylvia saw you. She said she’d invite you when she came back from her tour of the provinces that her agent has arranged for her.”

 

Clemance stops playing the piano and turns around on her stool to catch the eye of her brother. “That’s so typically you, Nettie darling!” She shakes her head, smiling indulgently.

 

“What have I said now?” Sir John asks, pleading innocence.

 

“You hear what you want to hear, not necessarily what is said, a trait you also picked up from Mother.” Clemance replies. “Sylvia said she’d look me up in the book*****, not invite me to ‘The Nest’! Truthfully, I don’t know anyone, other than you Lettice, who has been there and can vouch for its existence.” She turns back around and picks up where she left off playing, causing Josette to chirp happily in appreciation.

 

“So, what doesn’t Sylvia like about Mrs. Maugham’s designs, Lettice?” Sir John asks. “She would have paid a pretty penny****** for her services, and no doubt she will be doing the same with yours, or at least I hope she will.”

 

“She doesn’t appreciate Syrie Maugham’s over reliance on white, and,” Lettice sighs. “I must confess I understand why. The drawing room doesn’t seem to reflect Sylvia at all.”

 

“And what does she want you to do, Lettice?” Sir John asks again.

 

“To paint a feature wall for her, reflecting more of her personality and passion.”

 

“Oh hoorah!” Clemance says as the music comes to a gentle end which is softly applauded by both Lettice and Sir John. “I’m sure that will look wonderful!”

 

Clemance stands and steps away from the piano. Josette twitters cheerfully in her cage now and seems far more content. Clemance smiles at her pet. “That’s cheered you up, hasn’t it, Josette?” she asks. As if replying, the canary utters a peal of happy twittering notes. Turning to Sir John and Lettice, she goes on, “See, I told you my piano playing would make her less irritable.”

 

“Indeed you did!” her brother replies in mild surprise. “Proof that music hath charms to soothe the savage beast*******.”

 

“I’d hardly call a canary a ‘savage beast’, John.” Lettice opines.

 

“That’s because you’ve never been bitten by her sharp beak,” Sir John wags his fork at Lettice. ‘Like I have.”

 

“What are you going to paint on Sylvia’s walls, Lettice?” Clemance asks, resuming her seat in her comfortable floral armchair.

 

“I thought I might take inspiration from some wonderful pieces of blue and white china she has in the drawing room of ‘The Nest’.”

 

“I’m sensing a pattern here, Lettice darling.” Sir John remarks from his corner of the sofa. “After what you did for dear Adelinda.” He references the ‘Pagoda Room’, a small room in ‘Arkwright Bury’, the Wiltshire home of his and Clemance’s nephew, Alisdair Gifford and his Australian wife Adelinda. Sir John encouraged Lettice to take up the commission of his nephew and redecorate the room in Eighteenth century chinoiserie style to act as a backdrop for Adelinda’s collection of fine blue and white china: a commission that gained Lettice a favourable review in Country Life******** by Henry Tipping*********.

 

“Not at all, John.” Lettice replies with certainty. This is something very new and different. For Mr. Gifford…”

 

“Oh Alisdair, please!” Sir John retorts. “After all, you will be family once we are married.”

 

“Very well John, Alisdair’s redecoration, it was mimicking what had once hung on the walls. What Sylvia wants is something truly unique to her, and her alone. I thought I would take inspiration from some of Sylvia’s blue and white porcelain and paint a pattern of white on blue perhaps, rather than blue on white, with a gilded element.”

 

“That sounds rather exciting, and daring!” Clemance enthuses, sitting forward in her seat.

 

“That’s what Sylvia said.” Lettice agrees.

 

“What do you think you might paint for her then?” Sir John asks.

 

“At first I was going to paint something from the garden: flowers, or leaves perhaps,” Lettice explains. “Then I thought of feathers, which she really liked the idea of. I became more convinced after we had dinner that night that feathers are the right choice.”

 

“And why is that, Lettice darling?” Clemance asks.

 

“Well you see, Sylvia told me her story over dinner.” Lettice glances seriously, first at Sir John and then at Clemance. “Her whole story, which she says really only you two know.”

 

“So, she told you about her father and mother?” Clemance asks.

 

Lettice nods. “Yes, that her father died young, and that her mother couldn’t cope and needed to reach out to her brother, Ninian**********.”

 

“And what did she tell you about her time with her Uncle Ninian?” Clemance asks, her eyes wary as she looks at Lettice.

 

“She told me that he recognised in her what her mother also did, that she had the talent to be an accomplished pianist, but in order to do that, her mother needed Ninian’s money and connections.”

 

“Quite right, my dear.” Clemance nods. “It is through her Uncle Ninian that Sylvia and I met.”

 

“She told me the same story you did, that you were both staying at the von Nyssens, in Charlottenburg: you to be finished and she to attend the Universität der Künste***********.”

 

“And what did she tell you about when she came back to England after her period at the Universität der Künste came to an end?” Sir John asks quietly from his seat, his plate now discarded and all his attention upon his fiancée.

 

“Everything I think.” Lettice replies matter-of-factly. “That her Uncle Ninian basically held her captive, trying to recoup the money he invested in her by marrying her off to one of his wealthy friends. She told me that he was controlling of everything in her life, and that she wasn’t even allowed to see her mother again, except one last time on Primrose Hill************. That was one of the reasons why I decided that I would paint feathers for her on her wall.” Lettice’s voice lowers and saddens as she opines, “It seems to me that Sylvia was rather like a bird in a cage during that period of her life: on display and never granted her freedom, yet unlike a lark, she did have to sing, or rather perform and play the piano for all her would-be suitors.”

 

“That’s a very apt summation.” Clemance says sadly. “That was a hard time for Sylvia, and of course being sequestered as she was by her uncle, I had no idea what had happened to her.”

 

“But then she broke free, and managed to forge a life of her own,” Lettice adds more cheerfully. “And that is also why I want to paint feathers for her, as a symbol of the freedom she has now, and the heights to which she has risen in her career.”

 

“So, Sylvia told you about the Brigadier then.” Clemance says.

 

“Oh, she told me about Brigadier Piggott the night we met at the Royal Albert Hall*************, but whilst I was staying with her in Essex, she also told me about her first husband, Mr. Pembroke, the impresario, who turned out to be a wastrel and…” She pauses as she thinks how best to coin the fact that Sylvia disclosed her first husband’s homosexuality to her. “And other things.” she finally concludes. “And how he was a victim of foul play.”

 

“I see.” Sir John says dourly.

 

“So, she has told you everything, then.” Clemance concludes.

 

“I only think she entrusted me and took me into her confidence because I am marrying you, John.”

 

“Oh, I shouldn’t imagine that would be the only reason, Lettice darling,” Sir John replies, clearing his throat and sitting up in his seat, all the comfort and languor in his stance gone as he is reminded of the serious and sad business of Sylvia Fordyce’s life. “But it probably helped.”

 

“Sylvia is very good at keeping her own counsel, Lettice.” Clemance adds. “After those terrible few years with her Uncle Ninian, I think Sylvia is apt at managing everything about her life by herself. She neither needs to seek advice, nor share anything about her life with anyone else if she chooses not to. She is fiercely independent.”

 

“Thus, why I want to paint feathers for her, Clemance.”

 

“I think that Ninian also has a great deal to answer for Sylvia’s poor choice in men. I think being thrust in front of much older men as a jeune fille à marrier************** whom she didn’t love created a perverse sense of what a marriage was like for her, certainly if the Brigadier was anything to go by. We never met her first husband. He never came to any of Gladys’ parties where we reacquainted ourselves.”

 

“Oh!” Clemance gasps. “Oh thinking of marriages, and perhaps to not too subtly turn our attention and conversation away from the sad early life of Sylvia Fordyce, I have some magazines I’d like to give you to peruse, Lettice.” She gets up again with another groan. “It will help give you some ideas about what your trousseau*************** might look like: not that I don’t think you wouldn’t know, being the fashionable Bright Young Thing**************** you are, with friends like Gerald Bruton to dress you.” She sighs. “But food for thought. Have you spoken to your mother yet, about me helping you pick your trousseau, my dear?”

 

“Not yet, Clemance, but I doubt there will be any issues with her handing the reigns entirely over to you.” Lettice replies breezily. “Sadie hates London and only comes up here when she absolutely has to.”

 

Clemance takes the few steps across from her seat to Lettice. She places a hand lightly on Lettice’s shoulder. “Well, she might feel differently helping her youngest daughter to choose her trousseau. I know I would.” Her blue eyes suddenly become a little cloudy and lose their brightness as she speaks. “Best you ask her before you agree.”

 

Lettice sighs heavily. “Yes Clemance, I will, I promise, when I next go home to Glynes*****************.”

 

“Good girl.” Clemance squeezes Lettice’s shoulder and then wends her way between the furnishings of the drawing room and walks out the door.

 

In her cage, Josette flits about in desultory fashion, clinging first to one of the bars of her cage and then landing on the perch and winging, before flying up to peck at the silver bell. As she does, a single pale yellow feather falls from her tail. Blown by the wind created by Josette’s flight, the feather glides soundlessly out of the cage between the bars and lands on the tabletop, next to a round sterling silver box with a raised lid that Clemance uses for birdseed. As Josette lands on the floor of the cage, the feather is blown off the table and it drifts down, landing on the parquet floor of the drawing room.

 

Noticing it fall, Lettice puts her teacup aside and stands up before talking over to the table and dropping down to pick the feather up off the floor. She envelops it in her left hand as she stands up. She pauses before the cage’s bars and looks at Josette. The little canary seems to look back at her with her alert black eyes. She twitters and sings. “Hullo Josette.” Lettice says quietly. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt you.”

 

Josette continues to fly about her cage, twittering and singing, whilst Lettice watches her antics, momentarily mesmerised.

 

“I do hope you don’t feel like her.” Sir John’s voice drifts into her consciousness.

 

“What?” Lettice asks distractedly, spinning around to face her fiancée, who has returned to his languorous stance, leaning back into the soft upholstery and nest of cushions of the sofa. His arms are draped over the left arm of the sofa and across its back. Once again, he exudes the confidence of male privilege that his sex, class and enormous wealth bestows with every languid breath, wearing it every bit as well as the smart and well-cut Jermyn Street****************** tweed suit he is dressed in.

 

“Like a bird in a cage.” Sir John replies with a confident smile. “I hope you don’t feel like a bird in a cage, like you feel that Sylvia did when she got married to Josiah Pembroke. This fine marriage of ours is going to benefit us both, albeit in different ways. I will still be able to enjoy my dalliances with Paula and her like, and you, my dear Lettice, will be afforded the luxury of independence that few women of our class can enjoy.”

 

*Mazurkas, Op. 17. is a set of four mazurkas for solo piano by Frédéric Chopin, composed in 1832–1833 and published in 1834.

 

**Syrie Maugham was a leading British interior decorator of the 1920s and 1930s and best known for popularizing rooms decorated entirely in shades of white. She was the wife of English playwright and novelist William Somerset Maugham.

 

***If you put the cat among the pigeons or set the cat among the pigeons, you cause fierce argument or discussion by doing or saying something. The idiom comes from colonial India, where a popular pastime was to put a wild cat in a pen with pigeons. Bets would be made on how many birds the cat would bring down with one paw-swipe. The period of the British colonisation of India may have introduced this concept, and hence the phrase to the English language.

 

****Belchamp St Paul is a village and civil parish in the Braintree district of Essex, England. The village is five miles west of Sudbury, Suffolk, and 23 miles northeast of the county town, Chelmsford.

 

*****In the 1920s, being listed in “the book” meant being listed in the telephone directory.

 

******The origin of the idiom “a pretty penny” dates back to the Sixteenth Century. The word “pretty” in this context does not refer to beauty but rather to a considerable or substantial amount. This phrase is used to describe something that is expensive or costs a significant amount of money.

 

*******“Music has charms to soothe a savage breast.” is the famous line uttered by a character in William Congreve's 1697 play “The Mourning Bride”. The meaning for “Music soothe the savage breast” quote can be interpreted as chest or heart. That is likely what William was referring to when he wrote his playwright. Still, as time went by, people began to incorrectly use the quote in numerous instances. As it is today, the phrase is misquoted wrongly in many places. The literal meaning of the incorrect quote is in reference to the power of music. Whoever began to misquote the phrase, wanted to say that music has the power to soothe even the most savage beast in the world. In a way, even though the quote is incorrect, it does make some sense. That’s because breast – as it was used back then – referred to feelings, emotions and heart.

 

******** Country Life is a British weekly perfect-bound glossy magazine that is a quintessential English magazine founded in 1897, providing readers with a weekly dose of architecture, gardens and interiors. It was based in London at 110 Southwark Street until March 2016, when it became based in Farnborough, Hampshire. The frontispiece of each issue usually features a portrait photograph of a young woman of society, or, on occasion, a man of society.

 

*********Henry Tipping (1855 – 1933) was a French-born British writer on country houses and gardens, garden designer in his own right, and Architectural Editor of the British periodical Country Life for seventeen years between 1907 and 1910 and 1916 and 1933. After his appointment to that position in 1907, he became recognised as one of the leading authorities on the history, architecture, furnishings and gardens of country houses in Britain. In 1927, he became a member of the first committee of the Gardens of England and Wales Scheme, later known as the National Gardens Scheme.

 

**********Ninian is a Christian saint, first mentioned in the 8th century as being an early missionary among the Pictish peoples of what is now Scotland. Whilst the meaning of Ninian is uncertain, it may have links to the Irish and Scottish Gaelic word naomh, meaning “saint,” “holy,” or “sacred.”

 

***********The Universität der Künste, Berlin (Berlin College of Music) ranks as one of the largest educational music institutes in Europe, rich in content and quality. It dates back to the Royal (later State) Academy of Music, founded under the aegis of the violinist Joseph Joachim, a friend of Brahms, in 1869. From the date of its foundation under directors Joseph Joachim, Hermann Kretzschmar, Franz Schreker and Georg Schünemann, it has been one of the leading academies of music in the German-speaking countries. Composers such as Max Bruch, Engelbert Humperdinck and Paul Hindemith, performers such as Artur Schnabel, Wanda Landowska, Carl Flesch and Emanuel Feuermann, and academics such as Philipp Spitta, Curt Sachs, Erich Moritz von Hornbostel and Kurt Singer taught there. Prominent teachers later included the two directors Boris Blacher and Helmut Roloff, and the composer Dieter Schnebel.

 

************Like Regent's Park, the park area of Primrose Hill was once part of a great chase, appropriated by Henry VIII. Primrose Hill, with its clear rounded skyline, was purchased from Eton College in 1841 to extend the parkland available to the poor people of north London for open air recreation. At one time Primrose Hill was a place where duels were fought and prize-fights took place. The hill has always had a somewhat lively reputation, with Mother Shipton making threatening prophesies about what would happen if the city sprawl was allowed to encroach on its boundaries. At the top of the hill is one of the six protected viewpoints in London. The summit is almost sixty-three metres above sea level and the trees are kept low so as not to obscure the view. In winter, Hampstead can be seen to the north east. The summit features a York stone edging with a William Blake inscription, it reads: “I have conversed with the spiritual sun. I saw him on Primrose Hill.”

 

*************The Royal Albert Hall is a concert hall on the northern edge of South Kensington in London, built in the style of an ancient amphitheatre. Since the hall's opening by Queen Victoria in 1871, the world's leading artists from many performance genres have appeared on its stage. It is the venue for the BBC Proms concerts, which have been held there every summer since 1941.

 

**************A jeune fille à marier was a marriageable young woman, the French term used in fashionable circles and the upper-classes of Edwardian society before the Second World War.

 

***************A trousseau refers to the wardrobe and belongings of a bride, including her wedding dress or similar clothing such as day and evening dresses.

 

****************The Bright Young Things, or Bright Young People, was a nickname given by the tabloid press to a group of Bohemian young aristocrats and socialites in 1920s London.

 

*****************Glynes is the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie and his wife Arabella.

 

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

 

This upper-class drawing room may appear real to you, but it is in fact made up of 1:12 miniature pieces from my extensive collection, including items from my old childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The copy of the “Book of Canaries and Caged Birds” on display here is a 1:12 size miniature made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. In this case, although the book’s interiors are beautiful, so too is the cover, and I couldn’t resist displaying it for you to see. What might amaze you is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. In this case, the “Book of Canaries and Caged Birds”, written by W.A. Blackston, W. Swayland and A.F. Wiener was published by Cassel in London in the 1880s with 56 full colour chromolithographs, which are replicated inside this volume in 1:12 scale. To produce something in such detail makes this a true artisan piece. The books directly behind the “Book of Canaries and Caged Birds” are also Ken Blythe’s work, but are of the type that are not designed to be opened. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The gilt Art Nouveau teacup in front of the book, featuring a copy of a Royal Doulton leaves pattern, comes from a larger tea set which has been hand decorated by beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

 

The tiny silver container with its removable lid was made by Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces.

 

The wicker cage with the bird on its perch I acquired through an online stockist on E-Bay.

 

The wooden pedestal table is made from beautiful golden walnut and is an unsigned artisan piece that I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

In the background you can see Clemance’s grand piano which I have had since I was about ten years of age. It is made from walnut. The footstool has several sheets of music on it which were made by Ken Blythe. The sofa in the background to the left of the photo is part of a Marie Antionette suite with pretty floral upholstery which has been made by the high-end miniatures manufacturer, Creal.

 

All the paintings around Clemance’s drawing room in their gilded frames are 1:12 artisan pieces made by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, and the wallpaper is an authentic copy of late Victorian paper from the 1880s.

 

The Persian rug on the floor has been woven by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney, Australia.

My very good friend, Bob, died last night in St Pauls Hospital.

 

Bob lived with a lot of pain and disability yet he was upbeat and funny. He had 1001 corny jokes and a memory fit to remember them. He was generous, caring and a super good cook.

 

Bob will be terribly missed by his wife, Karen, and the rest of his close family. There are so many more people who loved him including, I'm sure, his medical team.

 

Rest well dear friend.

On backpacking trip to climb Mt. Langley in the Eastern Sierra's, this guy came upon us at about 13,000 feet. First time in my 15 years of backpacking I had ever seen these in the wild. Wow! He was not afraid of us, eventually he got within about 50 feet us. Unfortunately those closer shots did not come out, as the sun was behind him, totally underexposing the shot(s). A magnificant animal.

Letter generously translated by Nettenscheider; the author writes to his brother and incorrectly advises him that the downed aircraft on the front of the card was brought down by anti-aircraft fire.

 

Immelmann's victory No. 11 occurred on 13 March 1916 against a B.E.2c of No 8 Squadron (serial 4197). Lt Gilbert Denis James Grune and 2/Lt Brian Edward Glover DCM MM killed.

 

An often seen image generally entitled "2 abgeschoss. engl. Flieg-Offz". The coat being worn by Lt. Grune was commonly referred to as a "grizzly coat". Harrods of London supplied a lot of clothing to RFC airmen, including these heavy coats which was often made from animals with thick long fur such as bears or alpacas.

making friends

Thank you for your support and generosity in commenting and faving my photos, I am extremely grateful, there would be none in Explore without you, let alone 100.

 

1. Landscape in Green and Yellow, 2. Tulips on a Sunny Day, 3. North Wall, Cardiff Castle., 4. Bluebell Woodland, Wye Valley., 5. Inside, Looking Out., 6. White Spiral on Blue, 7. Welsh Dragon, Cardiff Castle Keep, 8. Big Duck,

 

9. John, Callaghan Square, Cardiff, 10. Keep, Cardiff Castle., 11. Old Boat and Two Trees, 12. Roath Park Pedaloes, 13. Fern, 14. Fly Fishing on Wentwood, 15. 3 of 9, 16. Pacuare Sunrise, Cardiff Bay,

 

17. From Pit to Port - Sunrise, Cardiff Bay., 18. Llandeilo'r Fan, 19. Boardwalk Shadows, 20. A Canopy of Tulips and Trees, 21. Parklife, 22. Taff Seagull, 23. Bute Park, 24. Tulip Requiem,

 

25. Lliedi Estuary, Llanelli., 26. Bay Car Park, 27. A Gap in the Clouds, 28. Polluted Dawn, 29. Afon Lliedi, Llanelli., 30. Fields., 31. Penarth Pier and Ship at Dawn, 32. View of the Loughor Estuary,

 

33. Whiteford Lighthouse, 34. Sunrise Abuse - Contrails and Fence, 35. Gwent Fields, 36. Museum, 37. Blossom, 38. Flowers and Sky, 39. Cosmeston Evening, 40. Lake Sunset with Trees,

 

41. Medicinal Daffodils, 42. Dawn, Cardiff Bay., 43. A Host of Golden Daffodils, 44. Chartist Bridge 2, 45. City Hall, 46. Cosmeston Boardwalk, 47. Seascape, 48. Road, Reen and Reeds,

 

49. Mycena galericulata (Common Bonnet), 50. Harbour Wall Breakers, 51. Wave, 52. Giant Wave at Porthcawl, 53. Storm, 54. Wentloog Dawn, 55. Porthcawl Storm 2, 56. Sunset Swans,

 

57. Sparrows, 58. Second Severn Crossing - 7, 59. Tree, 60. Fields, 61. Wales Millennium Centre, 62. Flight, 63. Wetland Dawn, 64. Peterstone Coarse Lake,

 

65. Penarth Front, 66. Watching, 67. Red, 68. Tree Dawn, 69. Trees in Winter Sunlight, 70. Misty Dawn, 71. Fire Escape 2, 72. Penarth Pier Early, 73. Late 'N' Live, 74. Corner Windows, 75. Toofer, 76. Levels, 77. Dawn Light Under Bridge, 78. Wetland Walkway, Dawn 3, 79. Bird, Tree, Moon., 80. Snoutcast,

 

81. 3 Floors, 3 Doors, 82. Lock and Load, 83. Last Light, Cosmeston Boardwalk, 84. Barrage Dawn, 85. Pontypool & Blaenavon Railway., 86. Spiral Stairs in Yellow, 87. Wheel., 88. Castle Arcade,

 

89. Spiral Staircase with Candles, 90. Christmas Hare, 91. Waiting for the Sun to rise., 92. Fishing, 93. Spiral Staircase in Black and White, 94. New Car Park - Cardiff Bay, 95. Water Tower at Night, 96. Sparrows,

 

97. Pyramid Sunset - Glastonbury 2007, 98. Wales Millennium Centre, 99. Lepista saeva (Field Blewit, Blue-leg)2669, 100. Water Tower, Reflected Sky

Models/ BW

 

NF BW Doing a series of black and whites of various models. I am trying to go for a edgy look. Let me know if I was successful. Please comment!! WWW.IL-PHOTOGRAPHY.COM

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Roma, Italy.

Macro photo of tooth wheel mechanism with imprinted RECEIVE, GIVE concept words

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 northwest of Lettice’s flat, in the working-class London suburb of Harlesden where Edith, Lettice’s maid’s, parents live in a small, two storey brick terrace house which opens out directly onto the street. Edith’s father, George, works at the McVitie and Price biscuit factory in Harlesden, and her mother, Ada, takes in laundry at home, although with her husband’s promotion to a Line Manager, she no longer needs to do it quite so much to supplement their income. We have ventured slightly north of George and Ada’s little terrace and are in Roundwood Park*, a large Victorian public park built on Knowles Hill in the 1890s. It is here that George and Ada, Edith and her beau, Frank Leadbetter have come to enjoy a picnic together. Edith has been stepping out with Frank, the young grocery delivery boy and sometimes window dresser of Mr. Willison’s Grocery in Binney Street, Mayfair for a few years now, and he and Edith hope to announce their engagement soon.

 

Around the quartet, the bells of London ring out in the distance, calling the faithful who have not yet visited to prayers and masses, for today is Easter Sunday. Overhead the bright blue sky is clear, and the quartet are bathed in glorious spring sunshine as they settle around and on a wooden bench on the edge of a brick pathway that hedges one of the many lush green lawns of Roundwood Park. They are not alone with other families with similar ideas taking advantage of the good weather enjoying picnics of their own on the other benches around them and on the lush green lawns of the park. In the obscuring shadows of trees, young lovers share food and discreet kisses in a pleasurable moment of intimacy. People promenade past Edith and Ada as they withdraw cutlery, crockery and a batch of Ada’s home made hot cross buns from Edith’s beautiful picnic basket with the hand painted lid – a gift from Australia from her seafaring brother Bert, who is a steward aboard the SS Demosthenes** whose route runs between London and Australia via Cape Town. Children peer with interest at Ada’s hot cross buns, and one braver toddler even reaches out a chubby star like hand to take one, but is smacked swiftly by his mother as she tugs him away, creating a barrage of screams and tears.

 

“Good afternoon.” Ada says politely to a wealthier looking lady who passes them by, smiling down at Ada and Edith on their knees on the red paving stones of the footpath and catching Ada’s eye. The lady smiles and murmurs a polite return greeting before leisurely strolling on, the stick of her umbrella tapping the paving stones beneath her feet. Ada pats the brim her russet felt hat decorated with silk flowers and feathers self-consciously.

 

“What’s wrong, Mum?” Edith asks in concern, glancing at her mother.

 

“Did you see that lady’s hat?” Ada asks.

 

“I didn’t notice.” Edith remarks, withdrawing Ada’s trusty red thermos**** with the orange banding from her basket.

 

“It’s as lovely as yours.” Ada opines, nodding at her daughter’s hat.

 

With the arrival of spring like weather, Edith has forgone her usual black dyed straw cloche and is wearing the wider brimmed natural straw hat decorated with a gaily striped ribbon and artificial flowers and fruit that she bought from Mrs. Minkin, a Jewish haberdasher in Whitechapel, recommended to her by Lettice’s charwoman*** Mrs. Boothby.

 

“Not like my old, bedraggled hat.” Ada continues, patting its soft brim self-consciously again. “Everyone’s in their Easter Sunday best, and the best I can rustle up is a hat that’s probably seen too many Easter Sunday sermons.”

 

“Oh stop it, Mum!” Edith says, reaching out and grasping her mother’s forearm and squeezing it reassuringly. “You look fine.” She takes out a milk bottle with a gleaming gold foil cap.

 

“In my old dark red polka dot skirt with the flounces, whilst you’re in your pretty frock that echoes the spring?” Ada says, screwing up her face in doubt.

 

“Mum, you look fine!” Edith assures her. “In fact, you look better than fine. You look lovely.” Edith pauses for a moment. “And, you can hold your head up proudly against any of these fine ladies.”

 

Ada pulls a face but then concedes with a murmured thank you to her daughter for her kindness.

 

“With Dad being a Line Manager now, and money not as tight as it used to be, maybe we could go and visit Bishop’s***** the drapers, or better yet, Mrs. Minkin’s haberdashery over in Whitechapel, and I can help you shop for a new hat.”

 

“Oh Edith!” Ada scoffs. She looks down into her lap. “I should be ashamed for being so proud and self-conscious about my looks. It’s unseemly, especially in a woman my age.”

 

“No it isn’t, Mum.” Edith retorts. “You deserve to treat yourself every now and then. Why not a new hat? Anyway,” She smiles broadly at her mother. “You’ll need to get yourself a new hat when Frank and I get married, won’t you?”

 

‘Well, it can wait until then.” Ada assures her daughter.

 

“You know I’ve never been here before, Mr. Watsford.” Frank remarks to George as they stand in the sunshine whilst Edith and Ada unpack their Easter Sunday picnic. “It’s lovely, and I think much nicer than West Ham Park******, which was where we used to go as a family when I was young.”

 

“Yes,” George agrees. “It’s a beautiful park, and we have a lot of good memories of outings here as a family, isn’t that right, Ada love?”

 

“What’s that George?” Ada asks as she looks up from where she is placing a hot cross bun on each of the four white china plates Edith packed in the picnic basket.

 

“Here’ you’ve done enough,” George replies, bending down and putting his hands out to his wife. “Let’s get you up from there and settled on the bench, Ada love.”

 

Ada groans as she takes George’s hands gratefully and allows him to help her get up. “Oh, I don’t mind if I do. My knees aren’t all they used to be, especially when pressed on old pavers. You don’t mind finishing up, do you, Edith love?”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll pour the tea, Mum.” Edith assured her mother with a bright smile.

 

“And I’ll help Mrs. Watsford.” Frank adds, kneeling down next to Edith and helping her pull out teacups from the capacious wicker picnic basket.

 

As Ada sinks with relief onto the seat of the wooden bench she asks, “Now what were you asking me, George love?”

 

“Oh, I was just saying to young Frank here, how as a family, we have a lot of good memories of outings in Roundwood Park as a family.” George replies.

 

“Indeed we do.” Ada remarks. “George and I did a lot of our courting here back when Roundwood Park first opened.”

 

“Well, it seems like a lovely place to do that, Mrs. Watsford.” Frank says, daring to steal a glance at his sweetheart who busies herself unaware of being observed as she pours tea from the thermos into a cup.

 

“You must take Frank for a proper tour of the park after our picnic, Edith love.” Ada says to her daughter. “Show him the lodge house and the drinking fountain*******, and the ornamental beds and rose garden too.”

 

“I will Mum.” Edith agrees.

 

“Of course she will, Ada love.” George soothes. “The young couple will doubtless want a bit of time on their own together, and a stroll is just the ticket.”

 

“Dad!” Edith exclaims, blushing red as she pours tea into a cup for her mother and hands it to her, whilst Frank passes her a hot cross bun on a plate.

 

Noticing her daughter’s obvious embarrassment at her father’s clumsy remark, to change the subject slightly, Ada goes on, “George and I met here in Roundwood Park, you know, Frank.”

 

“No, I didn’t know., Mrs. Watsford.” Frank says as he passes a cup of tea to George, who bends down and helps himself to milk from the bottle.

 

“Oh yes.” Ada says as she puts her tea on the slats of the bench next to her and proceeds to slice open her hot cross bun with a knife. “We met here at a picnic for young people from the congregation of All Souls******** organised by the Vicar.” She looks slyly at her husband as he stands next to her, sipping his tea and thinks to herself that what is good for the goose is good for the gander. “Of course, we’d never have met if I hadn’t spoken to him first.”

 

George chokes on his tea.

 

“He was far too shy to talk to me, so I offered him something from my tin of home made biscuits,” Ada continues. “And that is how we met.”

 

Clearing his throat, Goerge defends himself. “I would have gotten around to talking to you, eventually, Ada love.”

 

“Oh would you now, George?” Ada asks with an arched eyebrow and a knowing look.

 

“That sounds rather like how Edith and I started stepping out,” Frank admits. “Only ours was over a box of groceries.”

 

“And a suggestion from Mrs. Boothby,” Edith adds.

 

“But if you hadn’t mentioned it to me, I don’t think I’d ever have been game enough to ask you out, Edith.” Frank admits. “I thought she was far too good for me, Mrs. Watsford.”

 

“Well, thank goodness for Mrs. Boothby then.” Ada says cheerfully with a smile as she butters her hot cross bun with butter from a square wrapped in foil sitting atop the picnic basket. “I’d says she was your cupid.”

 

‘I agree!” concurs Frank, remembering how it was Mrs. Boothby who encouraged him not that long ago to get on with asking Edith’s parents for their blessing to marry their daughter. “She is that.”

 

“I’ll have to meet this Mrs. Boothby you talk about one day, Edith.” Ada remarks as she settles back against the bench’s back and chews contentedly on her hot cross bun.

 

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Edith replies as holding her cup in one hand and her cut and buttered hot cross bun in the other, she takes a seat alongside her mother.

 

“What other reminisces do you have of Roundwood Park, Mr. and Mrs. Watsford?” Frank asks as he sits on the blue and white gingham picnic rug laid out across the paving stones alongside the basket. Looking up from beneath his straw boater with its brightly striped band he smiles between Edith’s parents.

 

“Well, there are plenty.” George says.

 

“Oh yes, like the story I heard last week!” Edith giggles.

 

“Now… Edith.” Ada warns with a faltering voice.

 

“What story was that?” Frank asks with interest, glancing first at his sweetheart and then between the smirking George and pale faced Ada.

 

“Mum made hot cross buns just like these for Dad on their first Easter Sunday picnic, and then gave all of them away before Dad could get a one!” Edith giggles.

 

As Frank, Edith and George giggle good naturedly around Ada she defends herself, “Well, mathematics were never my strongest suit when I was at school, and I hadn’t counted them.” She joins in with their joviality. “And anyway, I might have been smitten by the Lord if I’d refused to give the Vicar one.”

 

Ada’s final remark makes them all laugh a little more.

 

“It’s a shame that Mrs. McTavish couldn’t be with us today, Frank.” Ada remarks.

 

“She always spends Easter with her brother, my Great Uncle, Finlay, in Aberdeen, Mrs. Watsford. I think now that both my parents are gone, and me out at work every day and living in a boarding house in Clapham Junction, she feels the absence of family, keenly. You’re all lucky to be so close, with only Bert being away on the sea for stretches at a time.”

 

“I’m always grateful of that fact,” Ada says with a sigh. “Especially after those dreadful war years when so many families were destroyed forever.” She lifts her eyes to the blue sky dotted with white fluffy clouds above. “We have much to be thankful for.”

 

“Thinking of the war, what about all the lovely concerts the Willesden Junction Brass Band held in the bandstand********* we’ve seen over the years as a family, Ada love?” George remarks. “The ones before the war were especially good.”

 

“Oh yes, George!” Ada sighs with delight, allowing her head to loll backwards and for the spring sun to kiss her face. “Tuppence to hire a deckchair for the afternoon.”

 

“If we’re lucky, they might even play for a bit later in the day.” George adds.

 

“I say!” enthuses Frank. “That would be ripping!”

 

“The Willesden Junction Brass Band are quite accomplished you know, Frank.” George goes on. “They won the Camberwell Contest and the Camberwell Green Contest in 1911 and the Tottenham Contest in 1912.”

 

“That sounds very impressive, Mr. Watsford.” Frank remarks.

 

“I’ll show you the bandstand when we take a walk later, Frank.” Edith says cheerfully before taking a bite out of her hot cross bun and sighing with contentment.

 

“I’d like that, Edith.”

 

“It’s rather rustic,” George points out. “The balustrades are made from locally sourced branches made into a lattice, but it’s really rather charming.” He looks at his daughter. “If you see them setting up, you must come and fetch your mum and I.”

 

“As if I wouldn’t, Dad!” Edith laughs. “I used to love playing in the Gymnasium**********.”

 

“You were like a monkey in the zoo!” Ada laughs. “Clinging and swinging from those climbing frames and bars.”

 

“Weren’t you worried she’d fall, Mrs. Watsford?” Franks asks.

 

“Terrified, Frank, but to her credit, she never did.” Ada replies. “But even if she had, she’s have done what any child does at that age, and pick herself up off the ground, dust herself off and do it all again.”

 

“I would too, Mum.” Edith concurs before taking a sip of tea. “I loved all the round flowerbeds filled with tulips, hyacinths and daffs when I was little too.”

 

“What do you mean when you were little?” George chortles. “You still do now.”

 

“I noticed how you stopped to admire the red and purple tulips planted near the gates when we arrived, Edith.” Frank murmurs, smiling lovingly at his sweetheart.

 

“Thinking of flowers, of course I’ve shown marrows at the Willesden Show*********** with Mr. Pyecroft.” George adds.

 

“You and Ernie Pyecroft and your marrows!” Ada scoffs light heartedly as she shakes her head.

 

“Ernie and I are going to beat Mr. Johnson one day and win first prize for our marrows!” George wags a finger at his wife before tapping the side of his nose knowingly. “Once we figure out what is in that fertilizer of his.”

 

Ada sighs through her nostrils, rolls her eyes and shakes her head at her husband.

 

“Don’t mind Dad.” Edith chuckles. “He’s marrow mad.” She turns to her mother. “Didn’t you put me into the running for the ‘Bonny Babies’ prize one year, Mum?”

 

“Oh, not you, love.” Ada corrects her daughter. “You grizzled too much when we were parted to be in the ‘Bonny Babies’. I pictured you crying your lungs out before the judges.”

 

“Well I’m sure I remember us being there,” Edith persists. “We were somewhere with lots of babies and a flapping canvas tent.”

 

“I entered your brother one year. That might be what you remember, Edith love.” Ada suggests.

 

“Goodness! Imagine Bert being a ‘Bonny Baby’!” Frank laughs as he takes another mouthful of one of Ada’s hot cross buns as he thinks of Edith’s younger brother.

 

“He was a blithe and bonny baby.” Ada defends her son. “But just not bonny enough. He didn’t win.”

 

“What would you have won if he had, Mrs. Watsford?” Frank asks.

 

“Oh goodness Frank!” Ada gasps. “That was all the way back in 1903. I can’t remember. A bottle of cod liver oil, probably.”

 

Frank and Edith both look at one another, pulling faces of disgust as they both remember being given spoonfuls of the nasty tasting stuff when they were children by their mothers.

 

“You may not have been a ‘Bonny Baby’ contest winner, Edith,” Frank says lovingly as he looks at his sweetheart. “But I know you’d win a beauty contest now.”

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith exclaims, blushing at his compliment. “Thank you.”

 

“Alright you two!” George says brightly. “Off you go! Edith, take Frank on a wander of the gardens for a little bit and allow me to rest my weary bones on the bench in your absence.”

 

“I’ll unpack the finger sandwiches Edith made and the apple pie I made whilst you’re gone.” Ada adds.

 

“Are you sure, Mum?” Edith asks, getting up as Frank scrambles up from his seat on the picnic rug. “I can do it when I get back.”

 

“Your dad can help me, Edith love.” Ada replies. “Now, off you go.”

 

Ada and George watch as with linked arms, Edith and Frank slowly meander away down the path in the direction of the drinking fountain and gatekeeper’s lodge, their heads bowed towards one another as they chat: the perfect young couple in love.

 

“Do you think Frank will propose to her today?” George asks his wife.

 

“With Nyrie McTavish away, I doubt it, George love.” Ada replies. “His grandmother means too much to him for her to miss out on being one of the first to be told.”

 

The pair settle back into the worn wooden slats of the bench and allow the beautiful spring sun to sink into their bones. Closing their eyes, they fall silent for a little while, lost in the spheres of their own separate thoughts.

 

“However,” Ada adds at length. “I don’t think it will be too long before Frank proposes.”

 

“How do you know, Ada love?” George asks.

 

“Well, that awkwardness that seemed to be between them at New Year seems to have disappeared, thank goodness.” Ada breathes a heavy sigh. “I can’t quite put my finger on it. I just have a feeling that it will be soon.”

 

*Roundwood Park takes its name from Roundwood House, an Elizabethan-style mansion built in Harlesden for Lord Decies in around 1836. In 1892 Willesden Local Board, conscious of a need for a recreation ground in expanding Harlesden, started the process of buying the land for what is now Roundwood Park. Roundwood Park was built in 1893, designed by Oliver Claude Robson. He was allocated nine thousand pounds to lay out the park. He put in five miles of drains, and planted an additional fourteen and a half thousand trees and shrubs. This took quite a long time as he used local unemployed labour for this work in preference to contractors. Mr. Robson had been the Surveyor of the Willesden Local Board since 1875. As an engineer, he was responsible for many major works in Willesden including sewerage and roads. The fine main gates and railings were made in 1895 by Messrs. Tickner & Partington at the Vulcan Works, Harrow Road, Kensal Rise. An elegant lodge house was built to house the gardener; greenhouses erected to supply new flowers, and paths constructed, running upward to the focal point-an elegant bandstand on the top of the hill. The redbrick lodge was in the Victorian Elizabethan style, with ornamented chimney-breasts. It is currently occupied by council employees although the green houses have been demolished. For many years Roundwood Park was home to the Willesden Show. Owners of pets of many types, flowers and vegetables, and even 'bonny babies' would compete for prizes in large canvas tents. Art and crafts were shown, and demonstrations of dog-handling, sheep-shearing, parachuting and trick motorcycling given.

 

**The SS Demosthenes was a British steam ocean liner and refrigerated cargo ship which ran scheduled services between London and Australia via Cape Town. It stopped at ports including those in Sydney and Melbourne. She was launched in 1911 in Ireland for the Aberdeen Line and scrapped in 1931 in England. In the First World War she was an Allied troop ship.

 

***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.

 

****When we think of thermos flasks these days we are often reminded of the plaid and gawdy floral varieties that existed in the 1950s, 60s and 70s. Invented in 1892 by Sir James Dewar, a scientist at Oxford University, the "vacuum flask" was not manufactured for commercial use until 1904, when two German glass blowers formed Thermos GmbH. They held a contest to name the "vacuum flask" and a resident of Munich submitted "Thermos", which came from the Greek word "Therme" meaning "hot". In 1907, Thermos GmbH sold the Thermos trademark rights to three independent companies: The American Thermos Bottle Company of Brooklyn, New York; Thermos Limited of Tottenham, England; Canadian Thermos Bottle Co. Ltd. of Montreal, Canada. The three Thermos companies operated independently of each other, yet developed the Thermos vacuum flask into a widely sought after product that was taken on many famous expeditions, including: Schackelton\'s trip to the South Pole; Lieutenant Robert E. Peary\'s trip to the Arctic; Colonel Roosevelt\'s expedition to Mombassa and into the heart of the African Congo with Richard Harding Davis. It even became airborne when the Wright Brothers took it up in their airplane and Count Zepplin carried it up in his air balloon.

 

*****Bishop’s was a drapery shop located along the Harlesden High Street from the late Victorian era through until the Second World War.

 

******West Ham Park is a privately owned public park in West Ham in the London Borough of Newham. Spanning seventy-seven acres, it is the largest park in the borough. The park has been managed by the City of London Corporation since 1874. The park features ornamental gardens, children's playgrounds, and sporting facilities including five-a-side football pitches, cricket nets and tennis courts. Until its closure in 2016, a nursery stood at the north east corner of the park, and was one of the largest operations of its kind in the United Kingdom, producing over two hundred thousand spring and summer bedding plants each year for the park, gardens and churchyards in the City of London and other Corporation open spaces. Plants grown in the nursery were also used for state occasions and banquets hosted by the City of London Corporation.

 

*******The Roundwood Park drinking fountain, with a plaque commemorating the opening of the park in 1895 stands just inside the main gates off Harlesden Road adjunct to the old lodge house.

 

********The parish of All Souls, Harlesden, was formed in 1875 from Willesden, Acton, St John's, Kensal Green, and Hammersmith. Mission services had been held by the curate of St Mary's, Willesden, at Harlesden institute from 1858. The parish church at Station Road, Harlesden, was built and consecrated in 1879. The town centre church is a remarkable brick octagon designed by E.J. Tarver. Originally there was a nave which was extended in 1890 but demolished in 1970.

 

*********For more than ten years after Roundwood Park opened, the Willesden Junction Brass Band gave concerts at the bandstand. Thew band played on Thursday evenings, and at weekends. For the first ten years they were not paid, but made money by selling seats and programmes. Then, in 1905, a change in the law allowed the Council to pay the band twenty-five pounds to play on Sundays. These concerts became so popular, that a new rustic-type bandstand was built to the south of the “Gymnasium” (children's playground), where more space for the audience was available. As tastes changed, the concerts lost their popularity, so the park lost its bandstand. In its place a new Summer Theatre was built in 1959 at an estimated cost of £6,750. This was well used, especially for children's events.

 

**********The word “gymnasium” which of course we all associate with the modern term “gym” is an old fashioned word used to describe a children’s playground because in the Edwardian era, playgrounds were more about children getting exercise and plenty of fresh air than they were about actual playing.

 

***********The “Willesden Show” was an annual event that celebrated growing fresh vegetables and flowers, with prizes. The show also hosted livestock and pets, with dog-handling, sheep shearing, as well as arts and crafts. The show later became the “Brent Show” after the Willesden Borough merged with Wembley in 1965.

 

Although it may look life-sized to you, this idyllic outdoor scene is in fact comprised of pieces from my miniatures collection, and the Roundwood Park background in in truth my front garden.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

Edith’s pretty straw picture hat decorated with a real fabric ribbon and artificial flowers is an artisan piece and was acquired through Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders miniature shop in the United Kingdom. 1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable. Although not as expensive, Frank’s straw boater also comes from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders miniature shop in the United Kingdom. Ada’s russet coloured hat is also an artisan piece decorated with miniature flowers and tiny feathers which came from America.

 

Edith’s handbag handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. Ada’s tan handbag comes from Marilyn Bickel’s collection as well.

 

The wicker picnic basket was made by an unknown miniature artisan in America. The floral patterns on the top have been hand painted. The hinged lids lift, just like a real hamper, so things can be put inside.

 

The hot cross buns were made in England by hand from clay by former chef turned miniature artisan, Frances Knight. Her work is incredibly detailed and realistic, and she says that she draws her inspiration from her years as a chef and her imagination. The butter wrapped in foil was also made by her.

 

The Thermos flask came as part of another picnic set I acquired from a miniatures collector through E-Bay. The blue and white gingham picnic rug came from the same set. The enamelled teacups and plates come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls’ House Shop in the United Kingdom.

 

The two black umbrellas came from an online stockist of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay.

 

The bench is made by Town Hall Miniatures, and acquired through E-Bay.

 

The brick footpath upon which the bench sits a very special piece, and one of my more recent additions to my miniatures collection. Made painstakingly by hand, this was made by my very dear Flickr friend and artist Kim Hagar (www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/), she surprised me with this amazing piece entitled “Wall” as a Christmas gift, with the intention that I use it in my miniatures photos. Each brick has been individually cut and then worn to give texture before being stuck to the backing board and then painted. She has created several floors in the same way for some of her own miniature projects which you can see in her “In Miniature” album here: www.flickr.com/photos/bkhagar_gallery/albums/721777203007....

Letter generously translated by Immanuel; Dated 7.9.1917, the author sends a letter to his sweetheart.

 

Albrecht, Duke of Württemberg is photographed with Generalleutnant Konrad Krafft von Dellmensingen and another as yet unidentified württembergisch general.

 

On May 27, 1915, shortly after his promotion to Generalleutnant, Krafft took command of the newly formed Alpenkorps. He would lead the Alpenkorps until the end of February 1917, through fighting on the Italian Front, at Verdun, and in the invasions of Serbia and Romania.

 

He received the Pour le Mérite on September 13, 1916, and oak leaves to the Pour le Mérite on December 11, 1916.

 

Thank-you to Immanuel Voigt for his assistance in identifying Generalleutnant Krafft.

Letter generously translated by xiphophilos; penned by Unteroffizier Jakob Dös and addressed to Jakob Kloos in Schwabenheim. Soldatenbrief I.R. 68. Postage cancelled 20.1.1916 (25. Reserve Division).

 

Argonne Forest ca. 1916, troops unload mail bags onto a small, narrow-gauge railway station dubbed „Mudraplatz“ after General Bruno von Mudra.

Brief note on reverse generously translated by xiphophilos; the author writes the photograph was taken on New Year's Day 1918 near Verdun.

 

Veterans of the fighting in the Carpathian Mountains, these fellows wear the distinctive Karpatenkorps-Abzeichen on their caps.

 

The Karpaten-Korps was a German formation subordinate to the Austro-Hungarian 7th Army, which at that time was led by Archduke Karl, the later Austrian Emperor. Their role was to support the Austro-Hungarian forces against the Russians in the Hungarian Carpathians from August 1916 onward.

 

antique-photos.com/en/unidatabase/german-empire/458-karpa...

Trekking in Nepal is part of adventure trekking tourism and Adventure Trekking in Nepal and Trekking in Himalaya. Natures to renew one’s own self regard, to relive oneself, to realize Nepal beauty, to interact with its generous, friendly peoples are highlights of trekking in Nepal. Trekking is one long term activity that draws repeat visitors. So, Nepal is final purpose for trekking. Offers numerous options walking excursion to meet snowy peaks, their foot hills, valleys but however there is amazing for each who hope trek in Nepal hill, mountain area. Typical trekking and hiking in Nepal as unique combination of natural glory, spectacular trekking trips to hard climbing and Everest Base Camp Trek is most rewarding way to skill Nepal natural beautification and cultural array is to walking, trekking, width and the height of country. Trekking is important of travel Nepal for trekking tours Himalaya on description Nepal tour of large range of ecological features for Nepal Travel Holiday. The country nurtures a variety of flora and scenery. Addition to natural atmosphere is rich Himalayan culture. Many of visitor trek to different part of Nepal every year to experience its rustic charm, nature and culture. Most treks through areas between 1000 to 5185m, though some popular parts reach over 5648 meters. Trekking is not climbing, while the climb of Himalayan peaks and enjoy walking holiday in Nepal and trekking tours Nepal might be an attraction for travelers. Every travelers knows for the trekking in Nepal from all over the words an inspiring knowledge. Attraction for your Travel Holiday in Nepal of beauty and its excellent culture.

 

Annapurna trekking www.trekshimalaya.com/annapurna_region.php region of Nepal enjoy with magnificent view close to highest and impressive mountain range in the world. Day exploration in Pokhara and morning morning flight to Jomsom or drive to Besishisahar from Kathmandu begin of trek. High destination, Muktinath 3800m and in generally highest point of whole Annapurna is 5416m. Thorangla la is situated in Buddhist Monastery, an eternal flame, and Hindus Vishnu Tempe of Juwala Mai making it a pilgrimage site for both Hindus and Buddhists and Muktinath is on the way down from popular trekking it call Thorang la pass which is incredible view in Annapurna region. Whenever possible we will arrive at lodging mid-afternoon, which should www.adventurestrekking.com leave plenty time for explore the local villages, enjoy the hot springs at Tatopani, continue to Ghorepani where there is forever the possibility of sunrise hike to Poon Hill for spectacular views of Dhaulagiri, Fishtail, Nilgiri and the Annapurna Himalaya range. Continue on to Birethanti finally between with the Baglung road where we will catch cab to Pokhara, next day drive or fly to Kathmandu.

 

Everest trekking www.trekshimalaya.com/everest_region.php region, although fairly effortless compare to some of other trek, takes you high along trails to Tengboche monastery Everest Solu Khumbu is the district south and west of Mount Everest. It is inhabited by sherpa, cultural group that has achieve fame because of the develop of its men on climbing expeditions. Khumbu is the name of the northern half of this region above Namche, includes highest mountain (Mt. Everest 8848m.) in the world. Khumbu is in part of Sagarmatha National Park. This is a short trek but very scenic trek offers really superb view of the world's highest peaks, including Mt. Everest, Mt. Lhotse, Mt. Thamserku, Mt. Amadablam and other many snowy peaks. Fly from www.adventurestrekking.com Kathmandu to Lukla it is in the Khumbu region and trek up to Namche Bazzar, Tyangboche and into the Khumjung village, a very nice settlement of Sherpas people. This trek introduction to Everest and Sherpa culture with great mountain views, a very popular destination for first time trekkers in Nepal. Justifiably well-known world uppermost mountain (8848m.) and also for its Sherpa villages and monasteries. Few days trek from Lukla on the highland, takes you to the entry to Sagarmatha National Park and town of Namche Bazaar is entrance of Everest Trek. Environment of the towering Himalayas is a very delicate eco-system that is effortlessly put out of balance.

 

Langtang trekking www.trekshimalaya.com/langtang_region.php region mixture of three beautiful trek taking us straight into some of the wildest and most pretty areas of Nepal. Starting from the lovely hill town of Syabrubensi our trek winds during gorgeous rhododendron and conifer forests throughout the Langtang National Park on the way to the higher slopes. Leads up to the high alpine yak pastures, glaciers and moraines around Kyanging. Along this route you will have an chance to cross the Ganja La Pass if possible from Langtang Valley. Trail enters the rhododendron (National flower of Nepal) forest and climbs up to alpine yak pastures at Ngegang (4404m). From Ngegang we make a climb of Ganja La Pass (5122m). We start southwest, sliding www.adventurestrekking.com past Gekye Gompa to reach Tarkeghyang otherwise we take a detour and another unique features of trekking past, the holy lakes of Gosainkund (4300 m.) cross into Helambu via Laurebina to Ghopte (3430 m) and further to Trakegyang. Northern parts of the area mostly fall within the boundaries of Langtang National park.

 

Peak Climbing in Nepal www.trekshimalaya.com/peak_climbing.php is great view of Himalayas and most various geological regions in asia. Climbing of peaks in Nepal is restricted under the rules of Nepal Mountaineering Association. Details www.adventurestrekking.com information and application for climbing permits are available through Acute Trekking. First peak climbing in Nepal by Tenzing Norgey Sherpa and Sir Edmund Hilary on May 29, 1953 to Mt. Everest. Trekking Agency in Nepal necessary member from Nepal Mountaineering Association. Our agency will arrange equipment, guides, high altitude porters, food and all necessary gears for climbing in Nepal. Although for some peaks, you need to contribute additional time, exertion owing to improved elevation and complexity. Climbing peaks is next step beyond simply trekking and basic mountaineering course over snow line with ice axe, crampons, ropes etc under administration and coaching from climbing guide, who have substantial mountaineering knowledge and for your climbing in mountain.

 

Everest Base Camp Trek well noon its spectacular mountain peaks and the devotion and openness of its www.adventurestrekking.com inhabitants, the Everest region is one of the most popular destination for tourists in Nepal. While numerous of the routes through the mountains are difficult, there are plenty places to rest and enjoy a meal along the way. Additionally, don't worry about receiving lost. Just ask a local the way to the next village on your route, and they will direct you. Most Sherpas under the age of fifty can at least understand basic English, and many speak it fluently.

 

Annapurna Base Camp Trek is the major peaks of the western portion of the great Annapurna Himalaya, www.adventurestrekking.com Annapurna South, Fang, Annapurna, Ganagapurna, Annapurna 3 and Machhapuchhare and including Annapurna first 8091 meters are arranged almost exactly in a circle about 10 miles in diameter with a deep glacier enclosed field at the center. From this glacier basin, known as the Annapurna base camp trek (Annapurna sanctuary trek), the Modi Khola way south in a narrow ravine fully 12 thousand ft. deep. Further south, the ravine opens up into a wide and fruitful valley, the domain of the Gurungs. The center and upper portions of Modi Khola offer some of the best short routes for trekking in Nepal and the valley is situated so that these treks can be easily joint with treks into the Kali Gandaki (Kali Gandaki is name of the river in Nepal) region to the west.

 

Upper Mustang Trekking name Make an escapade beginning from world deepest gorge Kaligandaki valley www.adventurestrekking.com into world's highest area of Lo-Mangthang valley that passes through an almost tree-less barren landscape, a steep stony trail up and down hill and panorama views of high Annapurna Himalaya including Nilgiri, Annapurna, Dhaulagiri and numerous other peaks. The trek passes through high peaks, passes, glaciers, and alpine valleys. The thousands years of seclusion has kept the society, lifestyle and heritage remain unaffected for centuries and to this date.

 

Helicopter Tour in Nepal having high mountains and wonderful landscape of countryside but is effortlessly reachable by www.adventurestrekking.com land transport, is known as helicopter tours country. Helicopter services industry in Nepal is now well well-known with many types and categories of helicopters for the fly to different of Nepal. The pilots are very knowledgeable expert with 1000 of flying hours knowledge in Nepal. We have service for helicopter is outstanding reputations and established records for reliable emergency and rescue flight too. Here we would like to offer some of amazing helicopter tour in Himalaya country of Nepal. Further more details information about Nepal tour itinerary for helicopter tour in different part of Nepal contact us without hesitation.

 

Kathmandu Pokhra Tour is an exclusive tour package specially designed for all level travelers. Kathmandu Pokhara tour package www.adventurestrekking.com is effortless tour alternative for Nepal visitors. This tour package vacation the historically significant and ethnically rich capital (Kathmandu ) of Nepal and the most stunning city of world by the nature, Pokhara. Mountain museum and world peace stupa are another charming of Pokhara tour. Pokhara is the center of escapade tourism in Nepal. Package tour to Kathmandu Pokhara is design to discover highlighted areas of Kathmandu and Pokhara valley. Nepal is the country which is socially and geographically different that’s why we powerfully recommend you discover Nepal to visit once in life time. It is hard to explore all Nepal in one Nepal tours trip in this way we design this trip to show you the highlights of Nepal especially in Kathmandu and Pokhara.

 

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The pristine Iskele shoreline is home to the five-star Arkin Iskele Hotel. Magnificent freshwater pools are scattered around the site on an open terrace, where you may cool off in peace and quiet while admiring the stunning views of the Mediterranean Sea.

 

The 5* Arkin Iskele hotel rests on the stunning and upcoming coastline of Iskele. As you gaze at the stunning shoreline, you can cool off in exquisite freshwater pools. The Arkin Hotel’s golden sands and piers extend generously into the crystal waters of the Mediterranean Sea, offering the perfect spot for swimming, paddling, or simply relaxing by the sea. It’s perfect for soaking up the sun.

 

The hotel also offers room service, a kid’s club where children are taken care of and where they can enjoy a plethora of different arts, crafts and fun activities during their stay. There is also an aqua park featuring five unique slides for a splashing good time! With cosy sun loungers and beach umbrellas.

 

Arkin Iskele features a bar and lush gardens in addition to its 24-hour front desk. On-site, there is an international buffet restaurant to enjoy main meals and water slides for kids where they can have a splashing good time. The on-site spa offers body scrubs, body wraps and massages for anyone looking for a soothing wellness experience. Turkish baths and saunas are also available.

 

There are multiple bars to enjoy freshly prepared drinks and cocktails as well as a patisserie where cakes and tasty pastries are served at specific hours of the day. There is also an ice cream stand to find delight in many different flavours of ice cream. There is also a shuttle service nearby which is available to take guests to Famagusta.

 

Getting out and about after a day at the beach will not leave you disappointed in this phenomenal location. The Arkin Iskele Hotel is located very close to the gateway of the Karpas Peninsula, providing the perfect base from which to explore the spectacular natural beauty and unspoiled countryside of this region.

 

A protected beach area is found near the hotel where sea turtles lay their eggs. If you get there at the right time, you will be able to witness the mothers burying their eggs and little hatchlings scrabbling towards the sea - a breathtaking site for children as well. If you would like more information about turtle-watching sessions, please speak with your Rep.

 

As a great perk, Iskele is very close to the ancient Roman ruins of Salamis, an ideal day trip for both adults and children offering a chance to explore ancient gymnasiums and temples and discover profound artefacts.

 

There is also an opportunity to see Othello's Tower and Citadel mentioned in Shakespeare's play!

 

There are a variety of cafes, bistros, bars and restaurants in the charming historic town of Famagusta which is less than 25 minutes away. Iskele is also a stunning port town to explore, known for its incredible seafood restaurants and piers overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

 

Trikomo is a town in Cyprus. It is under the de facto control of Northern Cyprus and is the administrative center of the Iskele District of Northern Cyprus, which mainly extends into the Karpas Peninsula , while de jure it belongs to the Famagusta District of the Republic of Cyprus . It gained municipality status in 1998. Before 1974 Trikomo was a mixed village with a Greek Cypriot majority.

 

In 2011 Trikomo had 1948 inhabitants.

 

Trikomo is located in the north-eastern part of the Messaria plain , 9 km south of the village of Ardana , about two kilometers from the Bay of Famagusta and four kilometers north-west of the village of Sygkrasi .

 

In Greek Trikomo means "three houses". In 1975 the Turkish Cypriots renamed it Yeni İskele to commemorate the origins of the town's current inhabitants. In Larnaca before 1974 Turkish Cypriots resided in the neighborhood called Skala ("İskele" in Turkish), so that when they settled in the village they renamed it with the same name (lit. "new İskele", later shortened to İskele ). Yeni means "new", so Yeni İskele literally means "New Scale/İskele".

 

Before the 1974 Turkish invasion of Cyprus , the population of Trikomo consisted almost entirely of Greek Cypriots , most of whom fled during the conflict while the rest were subsequently deported to the south. Among these, worthy of mention is Georgios Grivas (1898-1974), general of the Greek army , leader of the guerrilla organization EOKA, protagonist of the liberation struggle against the English and of the paramilitary organization EOKA B.

 

The Turkish Cypriot municipality of Larnaca which had been established in 1958 moved to Trikomo in 1974, soon after the Turkish invasion of the island .

 

In Trikomo is the Church of the Panagia Theotokos , deconsecrated and home to an icon museum displaying rare examples of medieval iconography in Cyprus. The church is divided into two sections, one Orthodox and one Catholic. The first is the oldest, dating back to the Byzantine era , while the second was built in the 12th century, during the period in which the island was ruled by the Lusignans

 

Before 1974 Trikomo was a mixed village with a Greek Cypriot majority. In the 1831 Ottoman census, Muslims made up approximately 18.4% of the population. However, by 1891 this percentage dropped significantly to 3.4%. In the first half of the 20th century the population of the village increased steadily, from 1,247 inhabitants in 1901 to 2,195 in 1960.

 

Most of Trikomo's Greek Cypriots were displaced in August 1974, although some remained in the town after the Turkish army took control. In October 1975 there were still 92 Greek Cypriots in the city, but in 1978 they were moved to the south side of the Green Line . Currently, like the rest of the displaced Greek Cypriots, Trikomo Greek Cypriots are scattered across the south of the island, especially in the cities. The number of Greek Cypriots from Trikomo displaced in 1974-78 was approximately 2,330 (2,323 in the 1960 census).

 

Today the village is inhabited mainly by displaced Turkish Cypriots from the south of the island, especially from the city of Larnaca and its district . In 1976-77, some families from Turkey, especially from the province of Adana , also settled in the village . Since the 2000s, many wealthy Europeans, Turks and Turkish Cypriots from other areas of the north of the island (including returnees from abroad) have purchased properties, built houses and settled in the vicinity of the city. According to the 2006 Turkish Cypriot census, the population of Trikomo/İskele was 3,657.

 

The city annually hosts the Iskele Festival , which takes place for ten days in summer, and is the oldest annual festival in Cyprus, having first been held in Larnaca in 1968. In 1974, the event was moved to Trikomo together to the Turkish Cypriot inhabitants of Larnaca who had moved there. The program includes an international folk dance festival, concerts by Turkish Cypriot and mainland Turkish musicians, various sports tournaments, stalls offering food and various competitions, along with other performances and competitions highlighting the city's cultural heritage.

 

The current mayor of the city is Hasan Sadıkoğlu, who was first elected in 2014 as an independent candidate. It was re-elected in 2018 as the candidate of the right-wing National Unity Party (UBP), winning with 54.6% of the vote. In the 2018 local elections, four members of the UBP, two members of the pro-settler Renaissance Party (YDP), and two members of the left-wing Turkish Republican Party (CTP) were elected to the eight-member city council .

 

Trikomo is twinned with:

Flag of Türkiye Beykoz, Istanbul

Flag of Türkiye Büyükçekmece, Istanbul

Flag of Türkiye Finike, Antalya , since 2015

Flag of Türkiye Mamak, Ankara

Flag of Türkiye Pendik, Istanbul

Flag of Türkiye Samsung , since 2006

 

Turkish Cypriot sports club Larnaka Gençler Birliği (also called İskele Gençlerbirliği ) was founded in 1934 in Larnaca, and was playing in the Süper Lig of the Northern Cyprus Football Federation in the 2018–19 season

 

Northern Cyprus, officially the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC), is a de facto state that comprises the northeastern portion of the island of Cyprus. It is recognised only by Turkey, and its territory is considered by all other states to be part of the Republic of Cyprus.

 

Northern Cyprus extends from the tip of the Karpass Peninsula in the northeast to Morphou Bay, Cape Kormakitis and its westernmost point, the Kokkina exclave in the west. Its southernmost point is the village of Louroujina. A buffer zone under the control of the United Nations stretches between Northern Cyprus and the rest of the island and divides Nicosia, the island's largest city and capital of both sides.

 

A coup d'état in 1974, performed as part of an attempt to annex the island to Greece, prompted the Turkish invasion of Cyprus. This resulted in the eviction of much of the north's Greek Cypriot population, the flight of Turkish Cypriots from the south, and the partitioning of the island, leading to a unilateral declaration of independence by the north in 1983. Due to its lack of recognition, Northern Cyprus is heavily dependent on Turkey for economic, political and military support.

 

Attempts to reach a solution to the Cyprus dispute have been unsuccessful. The Turkish Army maintains a large force in Northern Cyprus with the support and approval of the TRNC government, while the Republic of Cyprus, the European Union as a whole, and the international community regard it as an occupation force. This military presence has been denounced in several United Nations Security Council resolutions.

 

Northern Cyprus is a semi-presidential, democratic republic with a cultural heritage incorporating various influences and an economy that is dominated by the services sector. The economy has seen growth through the 2000s and 2010s, with the GNP per capita more than tripling in the 2000s, but is held back by an international embargo due to the official closure of the ports in Northern Cyprus by the Republic of Cyprus. The official language is Turkish, with a distinct local dialect being spoken. The vast majority of the population consists of Sunni Muslims, while religious attitudes are mostly moderate and secular. Northern Cyprus is an observer state of ECO and OIC under the name "Turkish Cypriot State", PACE under the name "Turkish Cypriot Community", and Organization of Turkic States with its own name.

 

Several distinct periods of Cypriot intercommunal violence involving the two main ethnic communities, Greek Cypriots and Turkish Cypriots, marked mid-20th century Cyprus. These included the Cyprus Emergency of 1955–59 during British rule, the post-independence Cyprus crisis of 1963–64, and the Cyprus crisis of 1967. Hostilities culminated in the 1974 de facto division of the island along the Green Line following the Turkish invasion of Cyprus. The region has been relatively peaceful since then, but the Cyprus dispute has continued, with various attempts to solve it diplomatically having been generally unsuccessful.

 

Cyprus, an island lying in the eastern Mediterranean, hosted a population of Greeks and Turks (four-fifths and one-fifth, respectively), who lived under British rule in the late nineteenth-century and the first half of the twentieth-century. Christian Orthodox Church of Cyprus played a prominent political role among the Greek Cypriot community, a privilege that it acquired during the Ottoman Empire with the employment of the millet system, which gave the archbishop an unofficial ethnarch status.

 

The repeated rejections by the British of Greek Cypriot demands for enosis, union with Greece, led to armed resistance, organised by the National Organization of Cypriot Struggle, or EOKA. EOKA, led by the Greek-Cypriot commander George Grivas, systematically targeted British colonial authorities. One of the effects of EOKA's campaign was to alter the Turkish position from demanding full reincorporation into Turkey to a demand for taksim (partition). EOKA's mission and activities caused a "Cretan syndrome" (see Turkish Resistance Organisation) within the Turkish Cypriot community, as its members feared that they would be forced to leave the island in such a case as had been the case with Cretan Turks. As such, they preferred the continuation of British colonial rule and then taksim, the division of the island. Due to the Turkish Cypriots' support for the British, EOKA's leader, Georgios Grivas, declared them to be enemies. The fact that the Turks were a minority was, according to Nihat Erim, to be addressed by the transfer of thousands of Turks from mainland Turkey so that Greek Cypriots would cease to be the majority. When Erim visited Cyprus as the Turkish representative, he was advised by Field Marshal Sir John Harding, the then Governor of Cyprus, that Turkey should send educated Turks to settle in Cyprus.

 

Turkey actively promoted the idea that on the island of Cyprus two distinctive communities existed, and sidestepped its former claim that "the people of Cyprus were all Turkish subjects". In doing so, Turkey's aim to have self-determination of two to-be equal communities in effect led to de jure partition of the island.[citation needed] This could be justified to the international community against the will of the majority Greek population of the island. Dr. Fazil Küçük in 1954 had already proposed Cyprus be divided in two at the 35° parallel.

 

Lindley Dan, from Notre Dame University, spotted the roots of intercommunal violence to different visions among the two communities of Cyprus (enosis for Greek Cypriots, taksim for Turkish Cypriots). Also, Lindlay wrote that "the merging of church, schools/education, and politics in divisive and nationalistic ways" had played a crucial role in creation of havoc in Cyprus' history. Attalides Michael also pointed to the opposing nationalisms as the cause of the Cyprus problem.

 

By the mid-1950's, the "Cyprus is Turkish" party, movement, and slogan gained force in both Cyprus and Turkey. In a 1954 editorial, Turkish Cypriot leader Dr. Fazil Kuchuk expressed the sentiment that the Turkish youth had grown up with the idea that "as soon as Great Britain leaves the island, it will be taken over by the Turks", and that "Turkey cannot tolerate otherwise". This perspective contributed to the willingness of Turkish Cypriots to align themselves with the British, who started recruiting Turkish Cypriots into the police force that patrolled Cyprus to fight EOKA, a Greek Cypriot nationalist organisation that sought to rid the island of British rule.

 

EOKA targeted colonial authorities, including police, but Georgios Grivas, the leader of EOKA, did not initially wish to open up a new front by fighting Turkish Cypriots and reassured them that EOKA would not harm their people. In 1956, some Turkish Cypriot policemen were killed by EOKA members and this provoked some intercommunal violence in the spring and summer, but these attacks on policemen were not motivated by the fact that they were Turkish Cypriots.

 

However, in January 1957, Grivas changed his policy as his forces in the mountains became increasingly pressured by the British Crown forces. In order to divert the attention of the Crown forces, EOKA members started to target Turkish Cypriot policemen intentionally in the towns, so that Turkish Cypriots would riot against the Greek Cypriots and the security forces would have to be diverted to the towns to restore order. The killing of a Turkish Cypriot policeman on 19 January, when a power station was bombed, and the injury of three others, provoked three days of intercommunal violence in Nicosia. The two communities targeted each other in reprisals, at least one Greek Cypriot was killed and the British Army was deployed in the streets. Greek Cypriot stores were burned and their neighbourhoods attacked. Following the events, the Greek Cypriot leadership spread the propaganda that the riots had merely been an act of Turkish Cypriot aggression. Such events created chaos and drove the communities apart both in Cyprus and in Turkey.

 

On 22 October 1957 Sir Hugh Mackintosh Foot replaced Sir John Harding as the British Governor of Cyprus. Foot suggested five to seven years of self-government before any final decision. His plan rejected both enosis and taksim. The Turkish Cypriot response to this plan was a series of anti-British demonstrations in Nicosia on 27 and 28 January 1958 rejecting the proposed plan because the plan did not include partition. The British then withdrew the plan.

 

In 1957, Black Gang, a Turkish Cypriot pro-taksim paramilitary organisation, was formed to patrol a Turkish Cypriot enclave, the Tahtakale district of Nicosia, against activities of EOKA. The organisation later attempted to grow into a national scale, but failed to gain public support.

 

By 1958, signs of dissatisfaction with the British increased on both sides, with a group of Turkish Cypriots forming Volkan (later renamed to the Turkish Resistance Organisation) paramilitary group to promote partition and the annexation of Cyprus to Turkey as dictated by the Menderes plan. Volkan initially consisted of roughly 100 members, with the stated aim of raising awareness in Turkey of the Cyprus issue and courting military training and support for Turkish Cypriot fighters from the Turkish government.

 

In June 1958, the British Prime Minister, Harold Macmillan, was expected to propose a plan to resolve the Cyprus issue. In light of the new development, the Turks rioted in Nicosia to promote the idea that Greek and Turkish Cypriots could not live together and therefore any plan that did not include partition would not be viable. This violence was soon followed by bombing, Greek Cypriot deaths and looting of Greek Cypriot-owned shops and houses. Greek and Turkish Cypriots started to flee mixed population villages where they were a minority in search of safety. This was effectively the beginning of the segregation of the two communities. On 7 June 1958, a bomb exploded at the entrance of the Turkish Embassy in Cyprus. Following the bombing, Turkish Cypriots looted Greek Cypriot properties. On 26 June 1984, the Turkish Cypriot leader, Rauf Denktaş, admitted on British channel ITV that the bomb was placed by the Turks themselves in order to create tension. On 9 January 1995, Rauf Denktaş repeated his claim to the famous Turkish newspaper Milliyet in Turkey.

 

The crisis reached a climax on 12 June 1958, when eight Greeks, out of an armed group of thirty five arrested by soldiers of the Royal Horse Guards on suspicion of preparing an attack on the Turkish quarter of Skylloura, were killed in a suspected attack by Turkish Cypriot locals, near the village of Geunyeli, having been ordered to walk back to their village of Kondemenos.

 

After the EOKA campaign had begun, the British government successfully began to turn the Cyprus issue from a British colonial problem into a Greek-Turkish issue. British diplomacy exerted backstage influence on the Adnan Menderes government, with the aim of making Turkey active in Cyprus. For the British, the attempt had a twofold objective. The EOKA campaign would be silenced as quickly as possible, and Turkish Cypriots would not side with Greek Cypriots against the British colonial claims over the island, which would thus remain under the British. The Turkish Cypriot leadership visited Menderes to discuss the Cyprus issue. When asked how the Turkish Cypriots should respond to the Greek Cypriot claim of enosis, Menderes replied: "You should go to the British foreign minister and request the status quo be prolonged, Cyprus to remain as a British colony". When the Turkish Cypriots visited the British Foreign Secretary and requested for Cyprus to remain a colony, he replied: "You should not be asking for colonialism at this day and age, you should be asking for Cyprus be returned to Turkey, its former owner".

 

As Turkish Cypriots began to look to Turkey for protection, Greek Cypriots soon understood that enosis was extremely unlikely. The Greek Cypriot leader, Archbishop Makarios III, now set independence for the island as his objective.

 

Britain resolved to solve the dispute by creating an independent Cyprus. In 1959, all involved parties signed the Zurich Agreements: Britain, Turkey, Greece, and the Greek and Turkish Cypriot leaders, Makarios and Dr. Fazil Kucuk, respectively. The new constitution drew heavily on the ethnic composition of the island. The President would be a Greek Cypriot, and the Vice-President a Turkish Cypriot with an equal veto. The contribution to the public service would be set at a ratio of 70:30, and the Supreme Court would consist of an equal number of judges from both communities as well as an independent judge who was not Greek, Turkish or British. The Zurich Agreements were supplemented by a number of treaties. The Treaty of Guarantee stated that secession or union with any state was forbidden, and that Greece, Turkey and Britain would be given guarantor status to intervene if that was violated. The Treaty of Alliance allowed for two small Greek and Turkish military contingents to be stationed on the island, and the Treaty of Establishment gave Britain sovereignty over two bases in Akrotiri and Dhekelia.

 

On 15 August 1960, the Colony of Cyprus became fully independent as the Republic of Cyprus. The new republic remained within the Commonwealth of Nations.

 

The new constitution brought dissatisfaction to Greek Cypriots, who felt it to be highly unjust for them for historical, demographic and contributional reasons. Although 80% of the island's population were Greek Cypriots and these indigenous people had lived on the island for thousands of years and paid 94% of taxes, the new constitution was giving the 17% of the population that was Turkish Cypriots, who paid 6% of taxes, around 30% of government jobs and 40% of national security jobs.

 

Within three years tensions between the two communities in administrative affairs began to show. In particular disputes over separate municipalities and taxation created a deadlock in government. A constitutional court ruled in 1963 Makarios had failed to uphold article 173 of the constitution which called for the establishment of separate municipalities for Turkish Cypriots. Makarios subsequently declared his intention to ignore the judgement, resulting in the West German judge resigning from his position. Makarios proposed thirteen amendments to the constitution, which would have had the effect of resolving most of the issues in the Greek Cypriot favour. Under the proposals, the President and Vice-President would lose their veto, the separate municipalities as sought after by the Turkish Cypriots would be abandoned, the need for separate majorities by both communities in passing legislation would be discarded and the civil service contribution would be set at actual population ratios (82:18) instead of the slightly higher figure for Turkish Cypriots.

 

The intention behind the amendments has long been called into question. The Akritas plan, written in the height of the constitutional dispute by the Greek Cypriot interior minister Polycarpos Georkadjis, called for the removal of undesirable elements of the constitution so as to allow power-sharing to work. The plan envisaged a swift retaliatory attack on Turkish Cypriot strongholds should Turkish Cypriots resort to violence to resist the measures, stating "In the event of a planned or staged Turkish attack, it is imperative to overcome it by force in the shortest possible time, because if we succeed in gaining command of the situation (in one or two days), no outside, intervention would be either justified or possible." Whether Makarios's proposals were part of the Akritas plan is unclear, however it remains that sentiment towards enosis had not completely disappeared with independence. Makarios described independence as "a step on the road to enosis".[31] Preparations for conflict were not entirely absent from Turkish Cypriots either, with right wing elements still believing taksim (partition) the best safeguard against enosis.

 

Greek Cypriots however believe the amendments were a necessity stemming from a perceived attempt by Turkish Cypriots to frustrate the working of government. Turkish Cypriots saw it as a means to reduce their status within the state from one of co-founder to that of minority, seeing it as a first step towards enosis. The security situation deteriorated rapidly.

 

Main articles: Bloody Christmas (1963) and Battle of Tillyria

An armed conflict was triggered after December 21, 1963, a period remembered by Turkish Cypriots as Bloody Christmas, when a Greek Cypriot policemen that had been called to help deal with a taxi driver refusing officers already on the scene access to check the identification documents of his customers, took out his gun upon arrival and shot and killed the taxi driver and his partner. Eric Solsten summarised the events as follows: "a Greek Cypriot police patrol, ostensibly checking identification documents, stopped a Turkish Cypriot couple on the edge of the Turkish quarter. A hostile crowd gathered, shots were fired, and two Turkish Cypriots were killed."

 

In the morning after the shooting, crowds gathered in protest in Northern Nicosia, likely encouraged by the TMT, without incident. On the evening of the 22nd, gunfire broke out, communication lines to the Turkish neighbourhoods were cut, and the Greek Cypriot police occupied the nearby airport. On the 23rd, a ceasefire was negotiated, but did not hold. Fighting, including automatic weapons fire, between Greek and Turkish Cypriots and militias increased in Nicosia and Larnaca. A force of Greek Cypriot irregulars led by Nikos Sampson entered the Nicosia suburb of Omorphita and engaged in heavy firing on armed, as well as by some accounts unarmed, Turkish Cypriots. The Omorphita clash has been described by Turkish Cypriots as a massacre, while this view has generally not been acknowledged by Greek Cypriots.

 

Further ceasefires were arranged between the two sides, but also failed. By Christmas Eve, the 24th, Britain, Greece, and Turkey had joined talks, with all sides calling for a truce. On Christmas day, Turkish fighter jets overflew Nicosia in a show of support. Finally it was agreed to allow a force of 2,700 British soldiers to help enforce a ceasefire. In the next days, a "buffer zone" was created in Nicosia, and a British officer marked a line on a map with green ink, separating the two sides of the city, which was the beginning of the "Green Line". Fighting continued across the island for the next several weeks.

 

In total 364 Turkish Cypriots and 174 Greek Cypriots were killed during the violence. 25,000 Turkish Cypriots from 103-109 villages fled and were displaced into enclaves and thousands of Turkish Cypriot houses were ransacked or completely destroyed.

 

Contemporary newspapers also reported on the forceful exodus of the Turkish Cypriots from their homes. According to The Times in 1964, threats, shootings and attempts of arson were committed against the Turkish Cypriots to force them out of their homes. The Daily Express wrote that "25,000 Turks have already been forced to leave their homes". The Guardian reported a massacre of Turks at Limassol on 16 February 1964.

 

Turkey had by now readied its fleet and its fighter jets appeared over Nicosia. Turkey was dissuaded from direct involvement by the creation of a United Nations Peacekeeping Force in Cyprus (UNFICYP) in 1964. Despite the negotiated ceasefire in Nicosia, attacks on the Turkish Cypriot persisted, particularly in Limassol. Concerned about the possibility of a Turkish invasion, Makarios undertook the creation of a Greek Cypriot conscript-based army called the "National Guard". A general from Greece took charge of the army, whilst a further 20,000 well-equipped officers and men were smuggled from Greece into Cyprus. Turkey threatened to intervene once more, but was prevented by a strongly worded letter from the American President Lyndon B. Johnson, anxious to avoid a conflict between NATO allies Greece and Turkey at the height of the Cold War.

 

Turkish Cypriots had by now established an important bridgehead at Kokkina, provided with arms, volunteers and materials from Turkey and abroad. Seeing this incursion of foreign weapons and troops as a major threat, the Cypriot government invited George Grivas to return from Greece as commander of the Greek troops on the island and launch a major attack on the bridgehead. Turkey retaliated by dispatching its fighter jets to bomb Greek positions, causing Makarios to threaten an attack on every Turkish Cypriot village on the island if the bombings did not cease. The conflict had now drawn in Greece and Turkey, with both countries amassing troops on their Thracian borders. Efforts at mediation by Dean Acheson, a former U.S. Secretary of State, and UN-appointed mediator Galo Plaza had failed, all the while the division of the two communities becoming more apparent. Greek Cypriot forces were estimated at some 30,000, including the National Guard and the large contingent from Greece. Defending the Turkish Cypriot enclaves was a force of approximately 5,000 irregulars, led by a Turkish colonel, but lacking the equipment and organisation of the Greek forces.

 

The Secretary-General of the United Nations in 1964, U Thant, reported the damage during the conflicts:

 

UNFICYP carried out a detailed survey of all damage to properties throughout the island during the disturbances; it shows that in 109 villages, most of them Turkish-Cypriot or mixed villages, 527 houses have been destroyed while 2,000 others have suffered damage from looting.

 

The situation worsened in 1967, when a military junta overthrew the democratically elected government of Greece, and began applying pressure on Makarios to achieve enosis. Makarios, not wishing to become part of a military dictatorship or trigger a Turkish invasion, began to distance himself from the goal of enosis. This caused tensions with the junta in Greece as well as George Grivas in Cyprus. Grivas's control over the National Guard and Greek contingent was seen as a threat to Makarios's position, who now feared a possible coup.[citation needed] The National Guard and Cyprus Police began patrolling the Turkish Cypriot enclaves of Ayios Theodoros and Kophinou, and on November 15 engaged in heavy fighting with the Turkish Cypriots.

 

By the time of his withdrawal 26 Turkish Cypriots had been killed. Turkey replied with an ultimatum demanding that Grivas be removed from the island, that the troops smuggled from Greece in excess of the limits of the Treaty of Alliance be removed, and that the economic blockades on the Turkish Cypriot enclaves be lifted. Grivas was recalled by the Athens Junta and the 12,000 Greek troops were withdrawn. Makarios now attempted to consolidate his position by reducing the number of National Guard troops, and by creating a paramilitary force loyal to Cypriot independence. In 1968, acknowledging that enosis was now all but impossible, Makarios stated, "A solution by necessity must be sought within the limits of what is feasible which does not always coincide with the limits of what is desirable."

 

After 1967 tensions between the Greek and Turkish Cypriots subsided. Instead, the main source of tension on the island came from factions within the Greek Cypriot community. Although Makarios had effectively abandoned enosis in favour of an 'attainable solution', many others continued to believe that the only legitimate political aspiration for Greek Cypriots was union with Greece.

 

On his arrival, Grivas began by establishing a nationalist paramilitary group known as the National Organization of Cypriot Fighters (Ethniki Organosis Kyprion Agoniston B or EOKA-B), drawing comparisons with the EOKA struggle for enosis under the British colonial administration of the 1950s.

 

The military junta in Athens saw Makarios as an obstacle. Makarios's failure to disband the National Guard, whose officer class was dominated by mainland Greeks, had meant the junta had practical control over the Cypriot military establishment, leaving Makarios isolated and a vulnerable target.

 

During the first Turkish invasion, Turkish troops invaded Cyprus territory on 20 July 1974, invoking its rights under the Treaty of Guarantee. This expansion of Turkish-occupied zone violated International Law as well as the Charter of the United Nations. Turkish troops managed to capture 3% of the island which was accompanied by the burning of the Turkish Cypriot quarter, as well as the raping and killing of women and children. A temporary cease-fire followed which was mitigated by the UN Security Council. Subsequently, the Greek military Junta collapsed on July 23, 1974, and peace talks commenced in which a democratic government was installed. The Resolution 353 was broken after Turkey attacked a second time and managed to get a hold of 37% of Cyprus territory. The Island of Cyprus was appointed a Buffer Zone by the United Nations, which divided the island into two zones through the 'Green Line' and put an end to the Turkish invasion. Although Turkey announced that the occupied areas of Cyprus to be called the Federated Turkish State in 1975, it is not legitimised on a worldwide political scale. The United Nations called for the international recognition of independence for the Republic of Cyprus in the Security Council Resolution 367.

 

In the years after the Turkish invasion of northern Cyprus one can observe a history of failed talks between the two parties. The 1983 declaration of the independent Turkish Republic of Cyprus resulted in a rise of inter-communal tensions and made it increasingly hard to find mutual understanding. With Cyprus' interest of a possible EU membership and a new UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan in 1997 new hopes arose for a fresh start. International involvement from sides of the US and UK, wanting a solution to the Cyprus dispute prior to the EU accession led to political pressures for new talks. The believe that an accession without a solution would threaten Greek-Turkish relations and acknowledge the partition of the island would direct the coming negotiations.

 

Over the course of two years a concrete plan, the Annan plan was formulated. In 2004 the fifth version agreed upon from both sides and with the endorsement of Turkey, US, UK and EU then was presented to the public and was given a referendum in both Cypriot communities to assure the legitimisation of the resolution. The Turkish Cypriots voted with 65% for the plan, however the Greek Cypriots voted with a 76% majority against. The Annan plan contained multiple important topics. Firstly it established a confederation of two separate states called the United Cyprus Republic. Both communities would have autonomous states combined under one unified government. The members of parliament would be chosen according to the percentage in population numbers to ensure a just involvement from both communities. The paper proposed a demilitarisation of the island over the next years. Furthermore it agreed upon a number of 45000 Turkish settlers that could remain on the island. These settlers became a very important issue concerning peace talks. Originally the Turkish government encouraged Turks to settle in Cyprus providing transfer and property, to establish a counterpart to the Greek Cypriot population due to their 1 to 5 minority. With the economic situation many Turkish-Cypriot decided to leave the island, however their departure is made up by incoming Turkish settlers leaving the population ratio between Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots stable. However all these points where criticised and as seen in the vote rejected mainly by the Greek Cypriots. These name the dissolution of the „Republic of Cyprus", economic consequences of a reunion and the remaining Turkish settlers as reason. Many claim that the plan was indeed drawing more from Turkish-Cypriot demands then Greek-Cypriot interests. Taking in consideration that the US wanted to keep Turkey as a strategic partner in future Middle Eastern conflicts.

 

A week after the failed referendum the Republic of Cyprus joined the EU. In multiple instances the EU tried to promote trade with Northern Cyprus but without internationally recognised ports this spiked a grand debate. Both side endure their intention of negotiations, however without the prospect of any new compromises or agreements the UN is unwilling to start the process again. Since 2004 negotiations took place in numbers but without any results, both sides are strongly holding on to their position without an agreeable solution in sight that would suit both parties.

Here is a model that has been in the works for a while now. This a Southern Pacific M-6a, specifically number 1785, which is currently preserved in Woodburn, Oregon. I was lucky enough to visit this locomotive in November of 2021, so I was able to gather many pictures and measurements to reference when modeling. The rods shown in these photos are not the final designs, and are merely placeholders. The 120-C tender's original design was made by Chris Stone, who generously shared the file with me. His prototype locomotive, SP 2355, and mine share the same tender model, with small differences here and there. I was able to modify the design to very accurately depict 1785's tender as it sits today. I plan to bring this model to physical form before the end of 2022, as one of the 4 projects on my list this year.

24 carat.

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 she is at home in her drawing room, entertaining her old childhood chum Gerald, also a member of the aristocracy whose family, unlike Lettice’s, are in straitened circumstances owing to Gerald’s father, Lord Bruton, refusing to modernise and move with the times. Gerald has gained some independence from his family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street. His atelier has received some favourable reviews over the last few years and his couturier is finally starting to turn a profit thanks to an expanding clientele.

 

“Well,” Gerald exclaims as he languidly sinks back into the rounded back of one of Lettice’s white upholstered Art Deco tub armchairs. “Who’d ever have imagined you working for Dolly Hatchett again?”

 

Lettice has recently agreed to redecorate the first floor principle rooms of the newly acquired Queen Anne’s Gate* townhouse of Dolly Hatchett, wife of the Labour MP for Tower Hamlets**, Charles Hatchett. Lettice decorated their Sussex home, ‘The Gables’ in picturesque country style in 1921, much to her parent’s horror, firstly because Mrs. Hatchett was a chorus girl before becoming Charles Hatchett’s wife, and secondly because Mr. Hatchett was aspiring to be a Labor politician at the time.

 

“Whatever do you mean, Gerald darling?” Lettice asks.

 

“I always thought I was going to be the only one out of the two of us courting Mrs. Middling-Mediocre-Middle-Class for business!” Gerald replies with arched eyebrows.

 

“Mrs. Hatchett came to me, thank you Gerald,” Lettice corrects. “Not the other way around. And I see you are still being as much of a snob towards poor Mrs. Hatchett as you were when I first introduced you. You have a great deal to thank Mrs. Hatchett for.”

 

“I’m only teasing, Lettuce Leaf!” Gerald counters with a smirk as he uses Lettice’s hated childhood nickname.

 

“Don’t call me that Gerald! You know how much I hate it! “ scowls Lettice. “We aren’t five anymore.”

 

“I know! You are far too easy to tease, Lettuce Leaf!” Gerald persists, eliciting a shudder from Lettice. “Anyway, I know I owe a great deal of my success to Dolly Hatchett. She may only have been middling middle-class when you introduced us, but her circle of influence now has brought in more than a few high profile and wealthy clients for me to dress.”

 

“Aha!” Lettice crows.

 

“However, what surprises me is that you are taking her on again after all that bloodiness*** with your family, what with Chalie Hatchett being a Labor MP and all that, darling.”

 

“Well, Mater and Pater don’t actually know about it yet.” Lettice admits guiltily, casting her eyes downwards demurely for a moment as her face flushes with embarrassment.

 

“Oh!” Gerald opines, cupping his face in his hands and pulling a dramatic face like Munch’s ‘The Scream’****

 

“But I will!” Lettice hurriedly adds.

 

“I thought you were in the bad books with your parents enough as it is, what with your engagement to scandalously lecherous Sir John Nettleford-Hughes.”

 

For nearly a year Lettice had been patiently awaiting the return of her then beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, after being sent to Durban by his mother, Lady Zinnia in an effort to destroy their relationship which she wanted to end so that she could marry Selwyn off to his cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers. Having been made aware by Lady Zinnia in October 1924 that during the course of the year, whilst Lettice had been biding her time, waiting for Selwyn’s eventual return, he had become engaged to the daughter of a Kenyan diamond mine owner whilst in Durban. Fleeing Lady Zinnia’s Park Lane mansion, Lettice paid a call upon Sir John Nettleford-Hughes. Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John, according to London society gossip enjoys a string of dalliances with pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. As an eligible man in a aftermath of the Great War when such men are a rare commodity, with a vast family estate in Bedfordshire, houses in Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico and Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, quite close to the Glynes estate belonging to her parents, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, invited him as a potential suitor to her 1922 Hunt Ball, which she used as a marriage market for Lettice. Selwyn rescued Lettice from the horror of having to entertain him, and Sir John left the ball early in a disgruntled mood with a much younger partygoer. Lettice reacquainted herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate, Gossington. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. She then ran into him again at the Portland Gallery’s 1924 autumn show in Soho, where she found him yet again to be a pleasant and attentive companion for much of the evening. Sir John also made a proposition to her that night: he offered her his hand in marriage should she ever need it. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them. Turning up unannounced on his doorstep, she agreed to his proposal after explaining that the understanding between she and Selwyn was concluded. In an effort to be discreet, at Lettice’s insistence, they did not make their engagement public until the New Year. When Sir John and Lettice announced their engagement in the palatial Glynes drawing room before Lettice’s parents, the Viscount and Lady Sadie the Countess, Lettice’s elder brother Leslie and his wife Arabella, and the Viscount’s sister Eglantyne (known by all the Chetwynd children affectionally as Aunt Egg), it was received somewhat awkwardly by the Viscount initially, until Lettice assured him that her choice to marry Sir John has nothing to do with undue influence or mistaken motivations. The rest of the family were equally ambivalent, or even hostilely against the marriage.

 

“Now don’t tell me that you’ve turned against me now too, Gerald darling!” Lettice mewls as she sits forward in her seat. “Oh you can’t! You just can’t! What with Mater and Pater being lukewarm about my engagement at best, Lally being so beastly about the wedding, and Aunt Egg being totally against the idea, I need someone in my corner! Even Margot and Dickie aren’t keen on my marriage to John. Please Gerald!”

 

“Calm yourself Lettuce Leaf!” Gerald replies, sitting forward in his seat, raising his hands in both a defensive and an assuring gesture. “Of course I’m not turning against you! Don’t overreact and jump to conclusions. We have enough drama queens***** at Hattie’s.” He remarks coolly, mentioning the boarding house full of theatrical homosexuals, including his own West End oboist lover Cyril, run by his friend Harriet Milford. “You’re my best friend, and keeper of all my deepest and darkest confidences.” He coughs awkwardly. “Well, most of them anyway. You know I can’t even marry my lover, so how can I possibly stand piously in judgement over your choices?”

 

“You do judge me though, don’t you Gerald.” Lettice counters. “Be honest.”

 

“I can’t say that the path you’ve chosen to take with Sir John is one I’d have intended for you, Lettice darling.” he admits. “I would much rather have seen you happily in a love match and married to Selwyn Spencely, rather than in a marriage of convenience that is more like a business proposal with Sir John. You know I’ve never been keen on Sir John because of his reputation as a philanderer with a string of Gaiety Girls****** in his wake. However, since Selwyn surprised us all by breaking his well fashioned mould of being a decent and respectable chap by deserting you for a diamond mine owner’s daughter, I can hardly blame you for seeking affection elsewhere.” He looks earnestly at his friend across the low black japanned coffee table. “I just want you to be happy, Lettice darling. That’s all. If you say you can be happy with Sir John, then I’ll support you.”

 

“Oh, thank you darling!” Lettice sighs, releasing the pent-up breath she has been unaware of holding on to. “That means the world to me. I will be happy with Sir John.” she assures her friend. “At least he has made sure that I’m going in with my eyes open.”

 

“That’s good.” Gerald opines.

 

“And he has said that he will allow me to break our engagement if I so choose to do.”

 

“That’s even better and very magnanimous of him, although in saying that, it is usually the lady’s prerogative to break her engagement if she so chooses.”

 

“Well, I’m not going to, am I?” Lettice asks rhetorically. “But going to back to my parents and Mrs. Hatchett,” she remarks, carefully steering the conversation back to safer territory. “I don’t think they’ll particularly like it, but since my interior design business has become such a success, I hardly think they can object to her.”

 

“Don’t you believe it, Lettice darling.” Gerald remarks doubtfully. “Sadie will make her opinions clear.”

 

“I’m not so sure she will now.” Lettice counters confidently. “And even if she does, Dolly Hatchett is hardly the awkward, mousy and unsure wife of a banker we met in 1921. I think you’ve done wonders transforming her into the suitable wife successful MP for Towers Hamlets, Charles Hatchett, needs.”

 

“They say that ‘clothes maketh the man’, so why not the woman?” Gerald replies, settling back into his chair. “The power of clothes can be transformative.”

 

“I agree, Gerald darling. She’s so self-assured and self-possessed now. I was really remarkably surprised when we met again! She is transformed.”

 

“Oh she is still little Dolly Hatchett the chorus girl from Chu Chin Chow******* under the layers of crêpe de chiné, satin and velvet, Lettice darling.”

 

Lettice laughs. “She said the very same thing to me when I saw her.”

 

“All the same, transformation or not, I don’t think Sadie will like you taking Dolly Hatchett on as a client again. In Sadie’s eyes she is still, and always will be, a little social climbing parvenu. The fact she is on the wrong side of politics only makes her existence in your life, however transient, all the worse. I think the only sin you could commit that could possibly be worse would be to take on Wanetta Ward the American moving picture actress again.”

 

“Well, luckily for me then, Miss Ward is currently on a break from the Gainsborough Studios******** filming schedule and is in America.”

 

“I thought she was estranged from her parents.”

 

“She hasn’t gone to see her parents. The bright lights of Los Angeles and the American motion picture industry have wooed her. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if one of those new Hollywood moving picture studios doesn’t offer her a contract.”

 

“Big enough to break the one she has with Gainsborough?”

 

“I can imagine it. You’ve seen her, darling. She is a moving picture star, and if Edith is anything to go by, the kinema********* public will follow her, no matter where she goes, and that means they can make more money with her potential.”

 

“Hhhmmm…” Gerald purrs.

 

“What?” Lettice asks.

 

“Maybe I was wrong about you, Lettice darling?”

 

“Me?” Lettice raises a hand to her throat. “How?”

 

“Well, listening to the way you are talking so openly about money, maybe you are better suited to a marriage of convenience and business arrangement with Sir John, rather than a love match with Selwyn. I can’t imagine the despicable Duchess, Lady Zinna, approving of you speaking so candidly about money!”

 

“Oh pooh Lady Zinnia!” Lettice replies defiantly, flapping her hand at Gerald as if trying to sweep the phantom of the Duchess of Walmsford away. “I won’t have her name spoken here!”

 

However, as Lettice settles back in her seat, smiling, there is a sadness in the corners of her painted lips. Selwyn’s rejection of her by breaking her engagement, and the way she was told with glee and unbridled delight by his mother still hurts her deeply, and for all her bravado with her marriage of convenience with Sir John, like Gerald, she too would have preferred a love match with Selwyn Spencely to a business arrangement with Sir John in her heart of hearts. She sniffs and sighs quietly to herself as she ponders the thought of her upcoming marriage. Whilst she and Sir John haven’t set a date yet, the engagement has been announced in The Times and it won’t be too long before they will have to choose a day, or at the very least a month for their wedding. Long engagements are less popular in the class of Sir John and Lettice’s parents than they are in the middle and lower classes where money must be saved and households arranged.

 

“Thinking of Edith,” Gerald interrupts Lettice’s thoughts. “Where has she gotten to? I thought she was supposed to be making us some tea.”

 

Lettice glances up at the brightly painted clock on the mantle and looks at the sunflower yellow face as it reads ten past eleven. “Goodness, I was so lost in our conversation, I’d completely forgotten our elevenses!”

 

“Well, my stomach certainly hasn’t.” Gerald replies, stroking the pale blue pin stripped cream flannel of his double breasted summer suit stretched over his stomach. “I’m hoping Edith has some of her home made sponge cake for us as a treat. I say Lettice darling, do you think she might?”

 

“I couldn’t say.” Lettice remarks, standing up and sauntering over to the servant’s call bell next to the fireplace and depressing it purposefully, eliciting the hollow tinkling of a bell in the service area of the flat.

 

“Let’s hope so, then.” Gerald replies.

 

“I have to say that’s a rather bold pattern you’re wearing, Gerald.” Lettice remarks, returning to her seat and smoothing the peach, red, blue-grey and black floral pattered silk georgette of her skirt fastidiously across her knee.

 

“Why thank you darling!” Sitting up more straightly in his seat, Gerald smooths his own suit proudly. “American.” he admits with a knowing smile. “I acquired it from a contact of mine in the rag trade********** who traverses the Trans-Atlantic*********** and picked it up in New York. It’s rather fetching, isn’t it?”

 

“Very.” Lettice concurs before adding with an air of desperation. “You will still make my wedding frock won’t you, Gerald darling, even if you don’t altogether approve of my marriage to John?”

 

“Well of course I will, Lettice. Business is business.”

 

“Is that all I am Gerald?” Lettice scoffs jokingly.

 

“And you’re my best friend!” Gerald adds with a cheeky grin and a mischievous glint in his eye. “But I’m not the one you should be asking or talking to about this. Sadie will be the one who will organise your trousseau************ for you.”

 

“Yes, John’s sister Clemance asked me if I’ve spoken to Mater about the idea of her taking over the job of helping me organise and shop for my trousseau.”

 

“Which is why I worry that you are already in enough trouble with this marriage of yours, and your wish for your future sister-in-law to help organise it rather than Sadie, without adding me making your wedding frock and Dolly Hatchett to the mix.”

 

“I’m sure Mater won’t mind if Clemance takes on the job of arranging my trousseau.” Lettice replies with a dismissive wave. “You know how much she hates London at the best of times.”

 

“Yes, but she does rather love clothes, Lettice darling, except mine of course. I’m too close to you and therefore by proxy her, for Sadie to countenance me dressing you for your wedding day.”

 

“She didn’t mind you making Bella’s wedding frock.” Lettice quips.

 

“No, Lady Isobel didn’t mind me making Bella’s wedding frock, Lettice.” He gives his friend a knowing look. “You really need to stop dragging your dainty little heels and put your plan into action if you want to have some say over your wedding clothes. You can’t keep procrastinating. You have to talk to Sadie about it, and soon.” He nods sagely.

 

“I know.” Lettice sighs. “I just dread…”

 

However Lettice is cut off mid-sentence by the appearance of her maid, Edith as she staggers through the green baize door leading from the service part of the flat into the dining room. She and Gerald watch, mesmerised, from the comfort of their seats as Edith slowly traverses the dining room and into the adjoining drawing room, carefully carrying not a tea tray as they expected, but a large and heavy looking wooden crate.

 

“Beg pardon, Miss.” Edith says with a groan, placing the box a little unceremoniously upon the black japanned coffee table. “I know I was meant to be serving tea for you and Mr. Bruton, but this package just arrived for you.”

 

“Oh pooh the tea, Edith!” Gerald says excitedly, his hunger momentarily forgotten as he leans forward and inspects the box with great interest.

 

“Who is it from?” Lettice asks, unable to contain her own excitement as she leans forward in her own seat.

 

“I couldn’t say Miss.” Edith replies curtly, giving her mistress a doubtful look. “The deliveryman simply said that I was to give the box to you in person, and to give you this.” She withdraws a pale blue envelope from her morning uniform cotton apron pocket and hands it to Lettice, before withdrawing Lettice’s silver letter opener and handing it to her as well.

 

“I say! How thrilling!” Gerald enthuses. “A present, and a big one! Perhaps from your fiancée, since he is not adverse to giving you rather lovely and expensive gifts?” he adds hopefully as he refers to the rather large Picasso painting of ‘The Lovers’ that Sir John recently gave Lettice as an engagement gift to his bride-to-be.

 

“Well, I hardly think this is a Picasso.” Lettice remarks, nodding in the direction of the crate, as she slips the blade of the letter opener under the lip of the envelope and slides it along the top of the letter deftly, the paper making a sharp tearing sound as she does.

 

“No, but it could be something equally wonderful, like a piece of Eighteenth Century porcelain.” Gerald adds. “Let’s be a little imaginative, Lettice darling!”

 

Lettice withdraws the letter from the sliced open envelope.

 

“Will that be all, Miss?” Edith asks.

 

“Oh yes,” Lettice says distractedly, waving her hand dismissively at Edith as she focuses on the contents of the letter. “Just the tea, if you could manage it, thank you, Edith.”

 

“Yes Miss.” Edith bobs a curtsey and turns to go.

 

“I don’t suppose you happen to have one of your rather delicious and decadent sponge cakes on then offing, do you Edith?” Gerald asks hopefully.

 

“I might, sir.” Edith answers with a wry smile.

 

“Oh hoorah!” Gerald says, clapping his hands with delight. “How ripping!”

 

As Edith retreats to the kitchen through the green baize door, Lettice read the letter.

 

“Who is this intriguing package from, Lettice darling?” Gerald asks. “I’m simply dying to know!”

 

“It’s from my new client.” Lettice replies as she scans the letter’s contents.

 

“Well I must say!” Gerald responds with outrage. “I never get any gifts from Dolly Hatchett for making her frocks!”

 

“No, not Mrs. Hatchett,” Lettice replies, her brow crumpling as she speaks. “Another client I have agreed to take the commission of.”

 

“Another client. Who?”

 

Lettice uses the edge of the letter opener to prise open the lid of the wooden crate. Placing it aside, a froth of white tissue paper suddenly cascades forth freed from the confines of its prison. Lettice’s gaze immediately falls upon the neck of a bottle.

 

“A bottle of good quality German Mozelle!” Gerald exclaims as Lettice withdraws the bottle and a single dainty wine glass from amidst the paper.

 

“How very thoughtful of her.” Lettice muses with a smile as she puts the bottle and glass onto the surface of the coffee table.

 

Gerald delves into the paper which scrunches crisply beneath his touch as he withdraws a rather lovely vase of hand painted blue and white china.

 

“Is this a gift from your Mrs. Clifford of Arkwright Bury?” Gerald asks.

 

“No, this is from Sylvia Fordyce.” Lettice answers.

 

Gerald falls silent for a moment and looks down at the vase in his hands. “Sylvia Fordyce? As in Sylvia Fordyce the concert pianist?”

 

“The very one, Gerald darling.” Lettice replies. “I’ve taken on a commission to paint a feature wall for her.”

 

“Well, you are full of surprises today, Lettice darling!” Gerald says, placing the vase on the table next to the sleek green bottle of Mozelle. “Rather like a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat. How on earth did that come about?”

 

“Well Sylvia is a friend of John’s, well more of Clemance’s than John’s really, but she wanted to meet me, and she asked me to paint a feature wall for her at her country home. She took me there a few weeks ago.”

 

“My goodness!” Gerald repeats. “You are the lucky one, Lettice! She’s famous for being quite a private person.”

 

“I know, darling.” Lettice purrs in reply with a confident smile. “I’m very honoured. She has a lovely house, and she had Syrie Maugham************* decorate it for her, but Sylvia isn’t happy with the amount of white she used in her colour scheme, and she wants me to inject a bit of colour with a hand painted feature wall.”

 

“Well that’s even more of a compliment to you, Lettice darling, if Sylvia Fordyce wants you to undo something Syrie Maugham has done.”

 

“I agree, Gerald darling.” Lettice continues to purr as she withdraws the lid of one of Sylvia’s ginger jars from the mantlepiece of ‘The Nest’s’ drawing room from amidst the froth of white paper. Placing it carefully on the top of the paper she goes on, “I decided to take some inspiration from her blue and white porcelain, and asked if she would lend me a few pieces whilst she was on tour.” She delves back into the box and withdraws the hand painted blue and white coffee pot and milk jug from the set she drank from at ‘The Nest’, its gilded edges gleaming under the light of the chandelier above. “And this is them.”

 

“And the wine?” Gerald queries.

 

“A gift to,” Lettice withdraws the letter again and scans it. “‘Help with my artistic and creative flow’.” she reads aloud.

 

“Well this is a delicious turn of events for you, Lettice darling!” Gerald remarks. “A commission from Sylvia Fordyce! Fancy that!”

 

“Yes, and hopefully this commission, plus the promise of a favouable review in The Lady************** as assured by Sylvia, might soften the blows of me wanting to control the acquisition of my own trousseau.”

 

“And decorating for Dolly Hatchett.” Gerald adds.

 

“Well,” Lettice sighs, sinking back into her seat, swinging the letter about in her hand. “I might wait until after I get back from Paris and the ‘Exposition internationale des arts décoratifs et industriels modernes’*************** before I drop that tiny social briquette, Gerald darling.”

 

“Very wise!” Gerald replies, tapping his nose knowingly. “I can’t wait to get back to Hattie’s and tell Charles Dunnage your news!”

 

“And why is that, Gerald darling? Why would one of Harriet Milford’s theatrical lodgers possibly be interested in my titbit of news?”

 

“Because, Lettice darling, he is a great fan of Sylvia Fordyce. He’ll be fit to be tied and will burst his corset stays when he hears that I’ve touched items that belong to Sylvia Fordyce.”

 

“Oh Gerald darling!” Lettice titters. “The very idea of Charles Dunnage wearing a corset!”

 

“But he does, Lettice darling! He’s so pompous about being a ‘thespian of the Shakespearean age’ and so vain about his looks that he really does wear one to smother his paunch, as he also has a distinct weak spot for anything sweet from Hattie’s kitchen, as you’ve seen.”

 

Lettice and Gerald both burst out laughing, enjoying the moment of their close friendship where they share anything with one another.

 

*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.

 

**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.

 

***The old fashioned British term “looking bloody” was a way of indicating how dour or serious a person or occasion looks.

 

****‘The Scream’ is a composition created by Norwegian artist Edvard Munch in 1893. The Norwegian name of the piece is ‘Skrik’ (Scream), and the German title under which it was first exhibited is ‘Der Schrei der Natur‘ (The Scream of Nature). The agonized face in the painting has become one of the most iconic images in art, seen as symbolizing the anxiety of the human condition. Munch's work, including The Scream, had a formative influence on the Expressionist movement.

 

*****You may be surprised to learn that the term “drama queen”, so commonly used today to refer to someone who reacts to situations in an exaggerated or overly emotional way, dates back to 1923 where it was first referenced in the Washington Post.

 

******Gaiety Girls were the chorus girls in Edwardian musical comedies, beginning in the 1890s at the Gaiety Theatre, London, in the shows produced by George Edwardes.

 

*******‘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!

 

********Islington Studios, often known as Gainsborough Studios, were a British film studio located on the south bank of the Regent's Canal, in Poole Street, Hoxton in Shoreditch, London which began operation in 1919. By 1920 they had a two stage studio. It is here that Alfred Hitchcock made his entrée into films.

 

*********Kinema is an early spelling of the word cinema, and was commonly used throughout the 1920s and into the early 1930s when it changed to cinema.

 

**********The slang term “rag trade”, referring to the garment, clothing, or fashion industry, first appeared in common usage between 1835 and 1845, but really began in the Eighteenth Century to describe the sale of rags or second-hand clothes.

 

***********A transatlantic cruise involves sailing across the Atlantic Ocean, typically between Europe and North America, offering a unique travel experience with several days at sea to relax and enjoy the ship's amenities. In the 1920s there were many big shipping lines like Britain’s Cunard and the White Star Line, as well as smaller companies such as the French Line, who traversed the Atlantic with luxury ocean liners, appealing to the wealthy and up-and-coming middle-classes for comfortable business and travel options, and to the lower classes who were still immigrating, albeit in much smaller numbers as a result of immigrant caps, from Europe and Britain to America.

 

************A trousseau is a word used to describe the clothes, linen, and other belongings collected by a bride for her marriage. For an upper-class bride, it would refer only to her clothing, including her wedding frock.

 

*************Syrie Maugham was a leading British interior decorator of the 1920s and 1930s and best known for popularizing rooms decorated entirely in shades of white. She was the wife of English playwright and novelist William Somerset Maugham.

 

**************The Lady is one of Britain's longest-running women's magazines. It has been in continuous publication since 1885 and is based in London. It is particularly notable for its classified advertisements for domestic service and child care; it also has extensive listings of holiday properties.

 

***************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 25th, 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.

 

This 1920s upper-class drawing room is different to what you may think at first glance, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The green bottle of Mozelle on the coffee table is an artisan miniature made by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire with careful attention paid to the lable, which is a genuine Mozelle wine lable from Germany. The wine glass is spun from real glass too and is also an artisan miniature. It is part of a set of six which I acquired from a high street stockist of dolls and dolls house miniatures when I was a young teenager. The letter opener is made of silver and is an artisan miniature made by the Little Green Workshop who specialise in high-end artisan miniature pieces. The blue and white vase on the coffee table and the blue and white gilt ginger jar in the crate come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The tiny blue and white coffee pot and creamer are part of a complete set, all of which are hand painted and come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House shop as well. The crate, which I purchased from an E-Bay seller in the United Kingdom.

 

The letter that you see on Lettice’s coffee table is a 1:12 size miniature made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Famed for his books, Ken Blythe also made other miniature artisan pieces from paper, including this letter, which is contained inside an envelope which even has a postmark. The letter itself, whilst deliberately not in focus in this photo is written in a tiny legible hand! To make a piece as small and authentic as this makes it a true artisan piece. Most of the Ken Blythe books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words of the titles, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The green glass comport on the coffee table is an artisan miniature made from hand spun glass and acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

 

The very realistic red rose floral arrangement to the right of the photo has been made by hand by the Doll House Emporium in America who specialise in high end miniatures. The faceted glass vase on the mantlepiece is an artisan miniature made from real glass. It comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The tulips in the vase are very realistic looking. Made of polymer clay they are moulded on wires to allow them to be shaped at will and put into individually formed floral arrangements. They are made by a 1:12 miniature specialist in Germany.

 

The black Bakelite and silver telephone is a 1:12 miniature from Melody Jane’s Dolls House Suppliers in England. The telephone is a model introduced around 1919. It is two centimetres wide and two centimetres high. The receiver can be removed from the cradle, and the curling chord does stretch out.

 

Lettice’s black leather diary with the silver clasp was also made by the Little Green Workshop in the United Kingdom. The pencils on top of it are 1:12 miniature as well, acquired from Melody Jane Dolls’ House Suppliers, and each is only one millimetre wide and two centimetres long.

 

Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The Hepplewhite chair has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.

 

On the top of the Hepplewhite bureau stand three real miniature photos in frames including an Edwardian silver frame, a Victorian brass frame and an Art Deco blue Bakelite and glass frame.

 

On the left hand side of the mantle is an Art Deco metal clock hand painted with wonderful detail by British miniature artisan Victoria Fasken.

 

In the middle of the mantle is a miniature artisan hand painted Art Deco statue on a “marble” plinth. Made by Warwick Miniatures in England, it is a 1:12 copy of the “Theban Dancer” sculpture created by Claire-Jeanne-Roberte Colinet in 1925.

 

The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.

 

The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

… and generous helping of tilt too!

Generous wrap worked in Garter Stitch in bias knitting

Krispy Kreme, Hwy 17, West Ashley. There is NOTHING better than a donut hot off the rack at 8:15AM.

 

Except for maybe TWO donuts hot off the rack at 8:15AM...

 

Charleston, South Carolina

PictionID:47242516 - Catalog:14_025383 - Title:Atlas 134F Details: Launch of Missile 134F/ABRES; Test 0119 Date: 03/01/1963 - Filename:14_025383.TIF - - - Images from the Convair/General Dynamics Astronautics Atlas Negative Collection. The processing, cataloging and digitization of these images has been made possible by a generous National Historical Publications and Records grant from the National Archives and Records Administration---Please Tag these images so that the information can be permanently stored with the digital file.---Repository: San Diego Air and Space Museum

Lumbini | Nepal

Nicole Eisenman’s new sculpture, ‘Love or Generosity’, has jbeen installed outside the New Amsterdam Courthouse. Gender-fluid, and featureless save for a bulbous nose, with mussed hair and chubby hands,this one is a real giant, , about 5 metres high, and it seems taller because of the implied height of its bent posture; at full height it would be twice that size. The formal choice of the bent posture is ingenious, and allows the figure to serve as an intermediary between the large scale of the 10-storey courthouse and the much smaller, human scale. The height of the building is gestured to in the giant’s latent height, while its attention, and therefore ours, is directed to its palm, which, full of intriguing objects, is at our eye level. (humourinthearts.com/2021/05/07/nicole-eisenmans-love-or-g...)

Brisbane's recorded history dates from 1799, when Matthew Flinders explored Moreton Bay on an expedition from Port Jackson, although the region had long been occupied by the Yugara and Turrbal aboriginal groups. First Nations Australians lived in coastal South East Queensland (SEQ) for at least 22,000 years, with an estimated population between 6,000 and 10,000 individuals before European settlers arrived in the 1820s.

 

At this time the Brisbane area was inhabited by the Turrbal people, (Turrbal also being the name of the language they spoke) who knew the area that is now the central business district as Mian-jin, meaning "place shaped as a spike". Archaeological evidence suggests frequent habitation around the Brisbane River, and notably at the site now known as Musgrave Park.

 

The first convict jail was built in Redcliffe in 1824 and that was moved to the site of the present-day CBD in 1825. Officials believed the natural bend in the river provided an effective barrier against escape.

 

Its suitability for fishing, farming, timbering, and other occupations, however, caused it to be opened to free settlement in 1838. Civilian occupation of the area began in 1842, and by the late 1880s Brisbane became the main site for commerce, and the capital-to-be began to develop distinct architectural features and culture.

 

With an abundance of sunshine and laid-back lifestyle, Brisbane quickly drew people eager to settle in its environs. The city grew steadily over the years and a turning point in its advancement was during World War II when it housed the main allied headquarters in the South Pacific for Australian and American service personnel.

 

The post-war population boom brought a spurt in industry and Brisbane staked a claim as the third-largest city in Australia.

 

Despite its rapid progress, Brisbane was often seen as lagging culturally behind Sydney and Melbourne. But two landmark events in the 1980s brought about a major change and accelerated Brisbane towards Australia’s new world city it is today.

 

The Commonwealth Games came to Brisbane in 1982, and this resulted in a massive injection of new infrastructure and sporting facilities. Then the eyes of the world turned to Brisbane in 1988 and thousands of visitors flocked to Expo 88. The subsequent birth of South Bank on the Expo site has resulted in a thriving cultural hub and Brisbane is more than matching it with its southern counterparts.

 

ABORIGINAL HISTORY

Prior to European colonisation, the Brisbane region was occupied by Aboriginal tribes, notably clans of the Yugara, Turrbal and Quandamooka peoples. The oldest archaeological site in the Brisbane region comes from Wallen Wallen Creek on North Stradbroke Island (21,430±400 years before present), however, settlement would likely occurred well prior to this date.

 

The land, the river and its tributaries were the source and support of life in all its dimensions. The river's abundant supply of food included fish, shellfish, crab, and prawns. Good fishing places became campsites and the focus of group activities. The district was defined by open woodlands with rainforest in some pockets or bends of the Brisbane River.

A resource-rich area and a natural avenue for seasonal movement, Brisbane was a way station for groups travelling to ceremonies and spectacles. The region had several large (200–600 person) seasonal camps, the biggest and most important located along waterways north and south of the current city heart: Barambin or 'York's Hollow' camp (today's Victoria Park) and Woolloon-cappem (Woolloongabba/South Brisbane), also known as Kurilpa. These camping grounds continued to function well into historic times, and were the basis of European settlement in parts of Brisbane.

 

TOWN PLAN

Buildings were constructed for the convict settlement, generally at right angles to the river's shoreline in the direction of Queen Street, and along the shoreline south-east of today's Victoria Bridge. The outstanding surviving building is the Commissariat Store (1828-29), originally two storeys, in William Street. The street layout, however, developed from a thoroughfare from the river's edge running north-east to the prisoners' barrack near the corner of today's Queen and Albert Streets. When a town survey was done in 1840 that thoroughfare was chosen as the main street – Queen Street – and the grid pattern of square blocks moved out from the Queen Street axis. There were several versions of the town survey. The proposed streets varied in width from 20 to 28 metres but Governor Gipps, anticipating an inauspicious future for the settlement, trimmed them back to the lesser figure. Streets running parallel to Queen Street were named after British and related royalty, among them Queen Mary II, Queen Charlotte (wife of George III) and Queen Adelaide (wife of William IV). William, George, Albert and Edward Streets, running at right angles, had similar royal antecedents. Creek Street's position approximated the course of a minor stream, Wheat Creek.

 

The town survey occurred about three years after a select committee of the British Parliament had concluded that transportation had ceased to deter crime and, in any event, was tainted with inhumanity. By 1839 Moreton Bay was being transformed from a convict settlement to a free settlement, and in July 1842 the first sales of Brisbane land took place in Sydney. Nearly 60 allotments, each of 36 perches, in North and South Brisbane were offered. Twelve months later blocks in Kangaroo Point were sold. Little care was taken to reserve land or space along the river's edge for public purposes, but the government farm at the south-east end was kept and in time became the botanic gardens.

 

OUTER SETTLEMENTS

The scatter of urban land sales detracted from North Brisbane's role as a central place in Moreton Bay. Wharves were set up on both sides of the river, and there was an Ipswich-Cleveland 'axis' backed by rural interests which wanted the administrative centre and a port at those places. Probably it was the building of a customs house in 1849 on the river in North Brisbane which had a decisive effect: wharf interests moved, to be closer to the customs house, which in turn influenced the location of warehouses and merchandising. South Brisbane remained at a disadvantage until a permanent Victoria Bridge (1874) replaced ferry crossings.

 

Four years after the first land sales North and South Brisbane's populations were 614 and 346 respectively. The town was nothing much to look at: convict buildings were dilapidated, new structures had been roughly built and mainly it was the steady inflow of new inhabitants which held the best prospects for improvement. A Catholic school had been opened in 1845 and the Moreton Bay Courier weekly newspaper began publication in 1846, but it was not until the end of the decade that noticeable civic amenities emerged. Coinciding with the arrival of the Fortitude immigrants in 1849 (who were settled outside the town boundary, north of Boundary Street), an Anglican school was opened and a Wesleyan church built in Albert Street. A school of arts was established, moving into its own hall in Creek Street in 1851. Regular postal deliveries were introduced in Brisbane in 1852.

During the 1850s most Churches constructed substantial buildings: St Stephens Catholic in Elizabeth Street (1850), St Johns Anglican, William Street, Presbyterian, Ann Street (1857) and Baptist, Wharf Street (1859). There were three ferry services, to South Brisbane, Kangaroo Point and the 'middle' service from Edward Street, also to Kangaroo Point. The Brisbane Municipal Council was proclaimed, just before colonial self-government, in 1859.

 

There had been land sales well beyond the town boundaries, but in the early 1860s allotments were cut up for working-class cottages in Spring Hill, Petrie Terrace and Fortitude Valley. In 1861 a census recorded over 8000 people in Brisbane and another 5000 in adjoining areas. An Ipswich to Brisbane telegraph began operation and the unused convict windmill (1828) up in Wickham Terrace was converted to a signal station with a time ball.

 

TOWN IMPROVEMENTS

Municipal improvements were brought in with improved town lighting from the Brisbane gas works (1864) in Petrie Bight, north of the customs house, and the widely felt need for recreation space was officially recognised by a survey of Yorks Hollow (where the Fortitude migrants had been sent) for Victoria Park. Progress there was slow, with the council using the site for sewage disposal until 1886. Fires rid parts of Queen Street of time-worn commercial buildings in 1864, clearing the way for better structures built under the supervision of fire-protection bylaws. The council also found the need to divide its area into four wards, expanding it into six in 1865 (East, West, North, South, Valley and Kangaroo Point). The council also expanded to a new town hall in Queen Street (1866), by when a short-lived bridge to South Brisbane (1865-67) was in operation. The water supply ponds were hopelessly inadequate, and in 1866 a supply from Breakfast Creek, Enoggera, was turned on.

 

Gympie gold (1867) brought prosperity to the colony, but the rural-dominated legislature spent the money outside Brisbane, a prime example being the Darling Downs railway to Ipswich (1867) with the intent of having a port on the Bremer River. Legislative shenanigans could not stop the growth of the capital city's population (15,000 in 1871, 23,000 in 1881) nor that of the adjoining suburbs. Brisbane's 1881 population of 23,000 included South Brisbane. Ten years later, after South Brisbane had been made a separate municipality in 1887, their combined populations were 49,000. By 1891 Brisbane and suburbs had a population of over 100,000.

 

With population and export income from gold there came pressure for public buildings appropriate to the town's growing prosperity. The first of them was the general post office in Queen Street (1872), followed by the government printing office (1874) near the Commissariat Store in William Street. A torrent came in the 1880s, with the Queensland National Bank at the corner of Queen and Creek Streets, the Margaret Street Synagogue, Finney Isles Big Block emporium in Adelaide Street, and in 1889 the new Customs House, the Treasury Building in William Street and the Ann Street Presbyterian church. The legislature aspired to grandeur quite early, in 1868, with its Parliament House near the botanic gardens.

 

TRAINS AND TRAMS

The Ipswich railway line was joined to Brisbane by a bridge across the river at Chelmer and Indooroopilly in 1876. Ten years later a line to the South Coast was under construction, but the lines were at first organised with rural freight rather than suburban passengers in mind. Suburban transport services started with a horse tram out to New Farm (1885-86), and across the Victoria Bridge to West End. Electric powered trams began in 1887. Central Brisbane was crossed by a Queen Street tram, connected to termini at Newstead, West End and Logan Road at Buranda. The main shopping centre was around Queen, George and Adelaide Streets, competing with Brunswick and Wickham Streets in Fortitude Valley. The south side had shopping at Five Ways, Woolloongabba, and at South Brisbane, although the latter declined after the 1893 floods.

 

Northside tram lines from Red Hill, Kelvin Grove, Clayfield and Hamilton were opened during 1897-1902, coming into the city via Edward Street in most cases. By 1890 there were also suburban railway lines, to Sandgate via Nundah (1882), to Enoggera and to Cleveland (1889). Brisbane Central station (1889) brought northside travellers right into Brisbane, as before then the Sandgate line had ended at Roma Street via a cost saving line through Victoria Park. The line to Brisbane Central station also passed through busy Fortitude Valley.

With the addition of a tram line to Lutwyche and Kedron in 1913 the pressure of traffic led to the construction of a line along Adelaide Street (1915), which in turn required the Council to widen Adelaide Street by four metres between George and Creek Streets in 1922-23.

 

HOUSE SIZES

Since 1885 minimum house allotments had been set at 16 perches (10m x 40m). Residents could therefore look forward to more airy, spacious houses outside the city and its adjoining suburbs such as Spring Hill and Petrie Terrace. The better-off population invariably sought out the higher ridges on elevated sites overlooking the river, making Hamilton (with a tram in 1899) one of the most sought after suburbs. It was the new upper-working and middle-class suburbs, however, that showed the change most clearly.

 

CENTRAL CITY SHOPPING

Central Brisbane had grand department stores, Finney Isles, and Allan and Stark, but not as many as Fortitude Valley. A third one came later in George Street, near the Roma Street railway station: McDonnell and East built a low-rise emporium there in 1912. Commercial and government buildings, usually of a modest height, sometimes had a massive footprint. An exception to the prevailing height practice was the Queensland (later Commonwealth) Bank administration building of eight storeys at the corner of George and Elizabeth Streets (1920) clad with sandstone and granite. The CML building, next to the GPO, went to the legal limit of 11 storeys in 1931 and was exceeded in height only by the Brisbane City Hall tower (1930).

 

The changing commercial centre was thought to need a distinctive civic space and an Anzac Square was proposed in 1915. It was completed in 1930, coinciding with the City Hall and the construction of a second bridge out of the city, across the river to South Brisbane. Named after William Jolly, first Lord Mayor of the amalgamated Brisbane Metropolitan Council (1925), the bridge was opened in 1932. A third bridge was opened in 1940 from the other (eastern) end of the city across to Kangaroo Point. Neither bridge had trams, but each integrated with the metropolitan council's planned arterial road system.

 

The opening of the Story Bridge was followed by 20 years of building quietude in central Brisbane. The war and postwar recovery explains part of the inactivity, but central Brisbane made do with its prewar building stock during the 1950s. Suburban expansion was the focus of activity, exemplified by Allan and Stark building a drive-in shopping centre at Chermside in 1957. Another change was the removal of the wholesale food market from Roma Street to Rocklea in 1962.

After recovery from the 1961 credit squeeze, commercial pressure and interstate example succeeded in raising the building height limit. The Pearl Assurance building (1966) at Queen Street was 15 storeys and the Manufacturers Mutual Insurance building (1967), also in Queen Street, was 22 storeys. The SGIO building (1970) in Turbot Street was an even more significant structure.

 

A lack of building activity in central Brisbane in the 1950s did not detract from its role as a retailing destination. Central city shopping boomed while there were low postwar car ownership and strong radial public transport services. The 1953 retail census for metropolitan Brisbane showed that the city and inner suburbs (Fortitude Valley, Bowen Hills, South Brisbane etc) had 74% of total retail sales.

 

OFFICES AND SHOPS

Set against the decline in retailing was the growth in high-rise office and commercial buildings. By the late 1980s central Brisbane had about 1.75 million sq metres of office space, ten times the amount of retail floor space. Its share of metropolitan office space was over 70%, and fringe areas such as Spring Hill, Fortitude Valley, Milton and Woolloongabba had another 25%. The change in Brisbane's skyline was evident from across the river, an example being the view from Kangaroo Point to the Riverside Centre office building (1987) at Eagle Street. The eastern commercial end of Ann, Adelaide and Queen Streets began to resemble the closed in narrow streets of Sydney's office precinct.

In contrast to office high rise, the Queen Street retailing centre has kept many of its old buildings. The facades are partly concealed by pedestrian mall shade sails and other structures, but the shops and arcades generate plenty of activity. The most significant addition was the Myer Centre (1988) with eight cinemas and 200 other stores, bounded by Queen, Albert and Elizabeth Streets. It replaced Allan and Stark (Queen Street, opposite side) and McWhirters, Fortitude Valley, which had both been taken over by Myer several years before. When opened, the Myer Centre's retail floor area was nearly 108,000 sq m, 26% more than the largest competing regional drive-in centre, at Upper Mount Gravatt.

 

PARKS AND RESIDENTS

By the 1960s the growth of metropolitan population and motor traffic was putting central Brisbane's streets under strain. All three river bridges fed into the central business district, although the Centenary Bridge (1960) at Jindalee gave temporary relief. Closer in, relief came in 1969 with the widening of the Story Bridge approaches, and the opening of the fourth Victoria Bridge, often known as the Melbourne Street Bridge. The Riverside Expressway was completed in 1976, a close-in ring road along the western edge of central Brisbane, from Victoria Bridge to the new Captain Cook Bridge, and leading to the south-eastern suburbs. The Expressway decisively altered the appearance of Central Brisbane. The tram crossing had ceased to function when trams were replaced by buses, but a railway crossing came very belatedly with the Merivale Bridge, linking South Brisbane and Roma Street stations in 1978. Prior to that the lines from Beenleigh and Cleveland and the trunk standard gauge from Sydney terminated at the South Brisbane station.

Roma Street had been the site of the wholesale food market, and for decades the land had remained under-used. The central city had incrementally added open spaces to its fabric – King George Square enlarged in 1975 and the Post Office Square opened in 1984 – and in 2001-03 the largest addition, the 16 ha Roma Street Parkland was completed.

 

Along with Albert Park and Wickham Park, the Parkland gives inner city residents generous open space. The residential population of central Brisbane, however, changed little between 1981 and 2001. The inner city (approximately between Ann and Elizabeth Streets) had just 45 dwellings in 1981 and 689 in 2001. The resident populations for the respective years were 1174 and 976, a decrease. Apartments had replaced boarding houses and rooms. The rest of central Brisbane (including Petrie Terrace) also saw an increase in dwellings (758 to 1282) and a decrease in population (3511 to 1797). Single person apartments had increased, multi-person dwellings had decreased and some of each were not lived in full time, often being held for prospective capital gain. The boom in apartment building from 2001 has added thousands of apartments, many rented by overseas students.

 

The distinctive features of twenty-first century Brisbane are its increasing resemblance to other capital city office precincts, with forecourts, sub-tropical decorative plants and outdoor cafes. Queen Street's signature silver bullet trams last ran in 1969, but the street's unusual width (Andrew Petrie apparently persuaded Governor Gipps on this point) has provided for a signature shopping mall with generous outdoor seating and dining areas. Out of the central retail area elegant sandstone government and commercial buildings have survived, surely an iconic architectural form. Some buildings have removed their clerks and accountants, substituting hotel patrons, tourists and casino visitors. The historic customs house was purchased by The University of Queensland from the federal government, and includes meeting, dining and gallery space. The City Hall (1930), once the tallest building, has been dwarfed by surrounding skyscrapers, so its clock tower no longer affords a commanding view over Central Brisbane. In 2008 the Brisbane City Council agreed to underpin City Hall which was in danger of gradual sinking on inadequate foundations.

 

The gothic-style St Johns Anglican Cathedral, commenced in 1901-06, was finally completed in 2009. Bounded by Ann and Adelaide streets, the cathedral roof and other buildings sustained extensive damage in a storm in 2014.

 

Source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brisbane & www.visitbrisbane.com.au/information/about-brisbane/histo... & queenslandplaces.com.au/brisbane-central

 

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1990 heralded a new decade with momentous change and significant events unfolding internationally and at home in Queensland. German reunification was achieved following the ‘fall’ of the Berlin Wall in November 1989. The Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia in turn declared their independence from the Soviet Union. Nelson Mandela was released after 27 years of imprisonment in South Africa, and Margaret Thatcher resigned as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom after more than 11 years in office. British computer scientist Tim Berners-Lee created the first web server and web browser, and the Hubble Space Telescope was launched from the space shuttle ‘Discovery’.

 

The Australian Labor Party’s federal election campaign was launched in Brisbane in early March before Prime Minister Bob Hawke’s government was returned later that month for a historic fourth term. Andrew Peacock resigned the leadership of the federal Liberal Party after the election defeat and was replaced by Dr John Hewson. Earlier in March, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC) was founded. The inaugural Cape York Aboriginal Land Conference took place at Lockhart River in September, leading to the formation of the Cape York Land Council.

 

The nation’s first women Premiers were sworn into office this year, firstly Western Australia’s Carmen Lawrence in February followed by Victoria’s Joan Kirner in August. On the day of Kirner’s swearing in, the Hawke government announced Australia would join the international naval blockade of Iraq in the Persian Gulf. A specially convened ALP national conference in September endorsed the privatisation of Qantas and other assets, ahead of deregulation of the domestic aviation market in November. Near that month’s end, Treasurer Paul Keating declared Australia was enduring “the recession we had to have”.

 

The 1990s was a decade of transformation as infrastructure connected the state, the Internet changed how we worked and Agro was a prime-time star. These photographic highlights come from a collection of thousands of images captured by Transport and Main Roads, documenting the plans, programs and growth of Queensland throughout the decade.

 

Find this series in our catalogue: www.archivessearch.qld.gov.au/series/S20086

 

The Transport and Main Roads Visual Resource Library collection contains over 200.000 photographs and other resources from the 1920’s to 2005 from the many and varied road, transport and maritime departments over that time. It is mostly the work of the Photographic Branch and Graphic Reproduction Services Unit between the 1930s and the 1990s. Photographers Les Dixon, Bob Reid, Ian Williams, Murray Waite and Ray Burgress recorded works and events of the Department.

 

Subjects covered include road construction projects, environmental science, road fittings, public transport and road users, people at work, community engagement, official openings, sod turnings, new structures (bridges, dams and Queensland University), awards, department initiatives, safety campaigns, exhibitions and displays.

 

The Mobile Emergency Room is a project by Thierry Geoffroy/Colonel, a participating artist of the Maldives Pavilion working with art formats developed around the notion of emergency.

 

www.emergencyrooms.org

 

Emergency Room is a format providing space for artists to engage in urgent debates, address societal dysfunctions and express emergencies in the now, today, before it is too late. Geoffroy’s approach allows immediate artistic intervention and displaces the contemporary to the status of delayed comment on yesterday’s world.

Taking as point of departure climate change and the Maldives, Geoffroy developed a scenario of disappearance and translated actual emergencies and hospitality needs into artistic interventions. In this context he activated his penetration format in order to transform “rigid exhibition spaces” into “elastic and generous exhibition spaces”.

An intervention facilitated by curator Christine Eyene, the Mobile Emergency Room was set up at the Zimbabwe Pavilion during the opening week of the biennale with the hospitality of commissioner Doreen Sibanda and curator Raphael Chikukwa. The first pieces presented in this room consisted in Geoffroy’s tent and an installation by Polish artist Christian Costa. Since then it has been animated online and has extended from being a space for artists expressing emergencies about climate change, to encompassing various emergency topics.

From 24 to 28 August, Geoffroy was in Venice collaborating with Danish artists Nadia Plesner, Mads Vind Ludvigsen, who created new work everyday, raising various emergencies and concerns, with a daily change of exhibition (“passage”) at 3.00 pm. For his last day in Venice, Geoffroy addressed the Syrian situation.

 

The work produced during this intervention is displayed until 30 September. The presentation is based on Geoffroy's concept of "Delay Museum" where art created for past emergencies is exhibited, while new work enters the Mobile Emergency Room.

 

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the Emergency Room Mobile at the Zimbabwe pavilion / Venice Biennale has now been completed with some work from the The Delay Museum ,Please visit the pavilion when you go the Venice Biennale this is part of the PENETRATIONS formats ( the Zimbabwe pavilion gave hopsitality for a period of several monthes ) the displayed art works in the Delay Museum are still "boiling " as they are from last week . ( Nadia Plesner / Mads Vind Ludvigsen , COLONEL ) ( this project is a convergence with BIENNALIST / Emergency Room ) more on Christine Eyene blog as she facilated and work within ....This penetration was in connection with my participation in the Maldives pavilion " CAN A NATION WELCOME ANOTHER NATION ?"CAN EMERGENCIES BE RANKED " .Thank you also for the work by David Marin , @Guillaume Dimanche and Christian Costa

venice-biennale-biennalists.blogspot.dk/2013/09/recents-w...

 

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VENICE BIENNALE / VENEZIA BIENNIAL 2013 : BIENNALIST

 

www.emergencyrooms.org/biennalist.html

 

Biennalist is an Art Format by Thierry Geoffroy / Colonel debating with artistic tools on Biennales and other cultural managed events . Often those events promote them selves with thematics and press releases faking their aim . Biennalist take the thematics of the Biennales very seriously , and test their pertinance . Artists have questioned for decade the canvas , the pigment , the museum ... since 1989 we question the Biennales .Often Biennalist converge with Emergency Room providing a burning content that cannot wait ( today before it is too late )

 

please contact before using the images : Thierry Geoffroy / Colonel 1@colonel.dk

www.colonel.dk

 

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Countries( nations ) that participate at the Venice Biennale 55 th ( 2013 Biennale di Venezia ) in Italy ( at Giardini or Arsenale or ? ) , Encyclopedic Palace is curated by Massimiliano Gioni

 

Albania, Andorra, Argentina, Australia, Austria, Azerbaijan, Bangladesh, Belarus, Belgium, Brazil, Bulgaria,

Costa Rica, Croatia, Cuba, Cyprus, Czech , Slovenia, South Africa, Spain, Canada, Chile, China, Congo,

Slovak Republic, Egypt, Estonia, Finland, France, Georgia, Germany, Greece, Haiti, Hungary, Iceland, India, Iran, Iraq, Ireland, Israel, Italy, Japan, Korea, Latvia, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Macedonia,

Mexico, Moldova, Montenegro, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, San Marino, Saudi Arabia, Serbia, Singapore

Sweden, Switzerland, Syrian Arab Republic, Thailand, Turkey, Ukraine, United Arab Emirates, United Kingdom, United States of America, Uruguay, Venezuela, Zimbabwe

the Bahamas, the Kingdom of Bahrain, the Republic of Kosovo, Kuwait, the Maldives, Côte d'Ivoire, Nigeria and Paraguay

 

Eight countries will also participate for the first time in next year's biennale: the Bahamas, the Kingdom of Bahrain, the Republic of Kosovo, Kuwait, the Maldives, Côte d'Ivoire, Nigeria and Paraguay. In 2011, 89 international pavilions, the most ever, were accessible in the Giardini and across the city.

 

please contact before using the images : Thierry Geoffroy / Colonel 1@colonel.dk

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lists of artists participating at the Venice Biennale

 

Hilma af Klint, Victor Alimpiev, Ellen Altfest, Paweł Althamer, Levi Fisher Ames, Yuri Ancarani, Carl Andre, Uri Aran, Yüksel Arslan, Ed Atkins, Marino Auriti, Enrico Baj, Mirosław Bałka, Phyllida Barlow, Morton Bartlett, Gianfranco Baruchello, Hans Bellmer, Neïl Beloufa, Graphic Works of Southeast Asia and Melanesia, Hugo A. Bernatzik Collection, Ștefan Bertalan, Rossella Biscotti, Arthur Bispo do Rosário, John Bock, Frédéric Bruly Bouabré, Geta Brătescu, KP Brehmer, James Lee Byars, Roger Caillois, Varda Caivano, Vlassis Caniaris, James Castle, Alice Channer, George Condo, Aleister Crowley & Frieda Harris, Robert Crumb, Roberto Cuoghi, Enrico David, Tacita Dean, John De Andrea, Thierry De Cordier, Jos De Gruyter e Harald Thys, Walter De Maria, Simon Denny, Trisha Donnelly, Jimmie Durham, Harun Farocki, Peter Fischli & David Weiss, Linda Fregni Nagler, Peter Fritz, Aurélien Froment, Phyllis Galembo, Norbert Ghisoland, Yervant Gianikian & Angela Ricci Lucchi, Domenico Gnoli, Robert Gober, Tamar Guimarães and Kasper Akhøj, Guo Fengyi, João Maria Gusmão & Pedro Paiva, Wade Guyton, Haitian Vodou Flags, Duane Hanson, Sharon Hayes, Camille Henrot, Daniel Hesidence, Roger Hiorns, Channa Horwitz, Jessica Jackson Hutchins, René Iché, Hans Josephsoh, Kan Xuan, Bouchra Khalili, Ragnar Kjartansson, Eva Kotátková, Evgenij Kozlov, Emma Kunz, Maria Lassnig, Mark Leckey, Augustin Lesage, Lin Xue, Herbert List, José Antonio Suárez Londoño, Sarah Lucas, Helen Marten, Paul McCarthy, Steve McQueen, Prabhavathi Meppayil, Marisa Merz, Pierre Molinier, Matthew Monahan, Laurent Montaron, Melvin Moti, Matt Mullican, Ron Nagle, Bruce Nauman, Albert Oehlen, Shinro Ohtake, J.D. ‘Okhai Ojeikere, Henrik Olesen, John Outterbridg, Paño Drawings, Marco Paolini, Diego Perrone, Walter Pichler, Otto Piene, Eliot Porter, Imran Qureshi, Carol Rama, Charles Ray, James Richards, Achilles G. Rizzoli, Pamela Rosenkranz, Dieter Roth, Viviane Sassen, Shinichi Sawada, Hans Schärer, Karl Schenker, Michael Schmidt, Jean-Frédéric Schnyder, Friedrich Schröder-Sonnenstern, Tino Sehgal, Richard Serra, Shaker Gift Drawings, Jim Shaw, Cindy Sherman, Laurie Simmons e Allan McCollum, Drossos P. Skyllas, Harry Smith, Xul Solar, Christiana Soulou, Eduard Spelterini, Rudolf Steiner, Hito Steyerl, Papa Ibra Tall, Dorothea Tanning, Anonymous Tantric Paintings, Ryan Trecartin, Rosemarie Trockel, Andra Ursuta, Patrick Van Caeckenbergh, Stan VanDerBeek, Erik van Lieshout, Danh Vo, Eugene Von Bruenchenhein, Günter Weseler, Jack Whitten, Cathy Wilkes, Christopher Williams, Lynette Yiadom-Boakye, Kohei YoshiyUKi, Sergey Zarva, Anna Zemánková, Jakub Julian Ziółkowski ,Artur Żmijewski.

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other pavilions at Venice Biennale

 

Andorra

Artists: Javier Balmaseda, Samantha Bosque, Fiona Morrison

Commissioner: Henry Périer

Deputy Commissioners: Francesc Rodríguez, Ermengol Puig, Ruth Casabella

Curators: Josep M. Ubach, Paolo De Grandis

Venue: Arsenale di Venezia, Nappa 90

 

Angola

Artist: Edson Chagas

Commissioner: Ministry of Culture

Curators: Beyond Entropy (Paula Nascimento, Stefano Rabolli Pansera), Jorge Gumbe, Feliciano dos Santos

Venue: Palazzo Cini, San Vio, Dorsoduro 864

 

Argentina

Artist: Nicola Costantino

Commissioner: Magdalena Faillace

Curator: Fernando Farina

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Armenia

Artist: Ararat Sarkissian

Commissioner: Ministry of Culture

Curator: Arman Grogoryan

Venue: Isola di San Lazzaro degli Armeni, everyday from 2:30 p.m. to 5:30 p.m.

 

Australia

Artist: Simryn Gill

Commissioner: Simon Mordant

Deputy Commissioner: Penelope Seidler

Curator: Catherine de Zegher

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Austria

Artist: Mathias Poledna

Commissioner/Curator: Jasper Sharp

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Azerbaijan

Artists: Rashad Alakbarov, Sanan Aleskerov, Chingiz Babayev, Butunay Hagverdiyev, Fakhriyya Mammadova, Farid Rasulov

Commissioner: Heydar Aliyev Foundation

Curator: Hervé Mikaeloff

Venue: Palazzo Lezze, Campo S. Stefano, San Marco 2949

 

Bahamas

Artist: Tavares Strachan

Commissioner: Nalini Bethel, Ministry of Tourism

Curators: Jean Crutchfield, Robert Hobbs

Deputy Curator: Stamatina Gregory

Venue: Arsenale, Tese Cinquecentesche

 

Bangladesh

Chhakka Artists’ Group: Mokhlesur Rahman, Mahbub Zamal, A. K. M. Zahidul Mustafa, Ashok Karmaker, Lala Rukh Selim, Uttam Kumar Karmaker. Dhali Al Mamoon, Yasmin Jahan Nupur, Gavin Rain, Gianfranco Meggiato, Charupit School

Commissioner/Curator: Francesco Elisei.

Curator: Fabio Anselmi.

Venue: Officina delle Zattere, Dorsoduro 947

 

Bahrain

Artists: Mariam Haji, Waheeda Malullah, Camille Zakharia

Commissioner: Mai bint Mohammed Al Khalifa, Minister of Culture

Curator: Melissa Enders-Bhatiaa

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Belgium

Artist: Berlinde De Bruyckere

Commissioner: Joke Schauvliege, Flemish Minister for Environment, Nature and Culture

Curator: J. M. Coetzee

Deputy Curator: Philippe Van Cauteren

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Bosnia and Herzegovina

Artist: Mladen Miljanovic

Commissioners: Sarita Vujković, Irfan Hošić

Venue: Palazzo Malipiero, San Marco

 

Brazil

Artists: Hélio Fervenza, Odires Mlászho, Lygia Clark, Max Bill, Bruno Munari

Commissioner: Luis Terepins, Fundação Bienal de São Paulo

Curator: Luis Pérez-Oramas

Deputy Curator: André Severo

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Canada

Artist: Shary Boyle

Commissioner: National Gallery of Canada / Musée des beaux-arts du Canada

Curator: Josée Drouin-Brisebois

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Central Asia

Artists: Vyacheslav Akhunov, Sergey Chutkov, Saodat Ismailova, Kamilla Kurmanbekova, Ikuru Kuwajima, Anton Rodin, Aza Shade, Erlan Tuyakov

Commissioner: HIVOS (Humanist Institute for Development Cooperation)

Deputy Commissioner: Dean Vanessa Ohlraun (Oslo National Academy of the Arts/The Academy of Fine Art)

Curators: Ayatgali Tuleubek, Tiago Bom

Scientific Committee: Susanne M. Winterling

Venue: Palazzo Malipiero, San Marco 3199-3201

 

Chile

Artist: Alfredo Jaar

Commissioner: CNCA, National Council of Culture and the Arts

Curator: Madeleine Grynsztejn

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

China

Artists: He Yunchang, Hu Yaolin, Miao Xiaochun, Shu Yong, Tong Hongsheng, Wang Qingsong, Zhang Xiaotao

Commissioner: China Arts and Entertainment Group (CAEG)

Curator: Wang Chunchen

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Costa Rica

Artists: Priscilla Monge, Esteban Piedra, Rafael Ottón Solís, Cinthya Soto

Commissioner: Francesco Elisei

Curator: Francisco Córdoba, Museo de Arte y Diseño Contemporáneo (Fiorella Resenterra)

Venue: Ca’ Bonvicini, Santa Croce

 

Croatia

Artist: Kata Mijatovic

Commissioner/Curator: Branko Franceschi.

Venue: Sala Tiziano, Opera don Orione Artigianelli, Fondamenta delle Zattere ai Gesuati 919

 

Cuba

Artists: Liudmila and Nelson, Maria Magdalena Campos & Neil Leonard, Sandra Ramos, Glenda León, Lázaro Saavedra, Tonel, Hermann Nitsch, Gilberto Zorio, Wang Du, H.H.Lim, Pedro Costa, Rui Chafes, Francesca Leone

Commissioner: Miria Vicini

Curators: Jorge Fernández Torres, Giacomo Zaza

Venue: Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Venezia, Palazzo Reale, Piazza San Marco 17

 

Cyprus

Artists: Lia Haraki, Maria Hassabi, Phanos Kyriacou, Constantinos Taliotis, Natalie Yiaxi, Morten Norbye Halvorsen, Jason Dodge, Gabriel Lester, Dexter Sinister

Commissioner: Louli Michaelidou

Deputy Commissioners: Angela Skordi, Marika Ioannou

Curator: Raimundas Malašauskas

 

Czech Republic & Slovak Republic

Artists: Petra Feriancova, Zbynek Baladran

Commissioner: Monika Palcova

Curator: Marek Pokorny

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Denmark

Artist: Jesper Just in collaboration with Project Projects

Commissioners: The Danish Arts Council Committee for International Visual Arts: Jette Gejl Kristensen (chairman), Lise Harlev, Jesper Elg, Mads Gamdrup, Anna Krogh

Curator: Lotte S. Lederballe Pedersen

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Egypt

Artists: Mohamed Banawy, Khaled Zaki

Commissioner: Ministry of Culture

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Estonia

Artist: Dénes Farkas

Commissioner: Maria Arusoo

Curator: Adam Budak

Venue: Palazzo Malipiero, San Marco 3199, San Samuele

 

Finland

Artist: Antti Laitinen

Commissioner: Raija Koli

Curators: Marko Karo, Mika Elo, Harri Laakso

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

France

Artist: Anri Sala

Commissioner: Institut français

Curator: Christine Macel

Venue: Pavilion of Germany at the Giardini

 

Georgia

Artists: Bouillon Group,Thea Djordjadze, Nikoloz Lutidze, Gela Patashuri with Ei Arakawa and Sergei Tcherepnin, Gio Sumbadze

Commissioner: Marine Mizandari, First Deputy Minister of Culture

Curator: Joanna Warsza

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Germany

Artists: Ai Weiwei, Romuald Karmakar, Santu Mofokeng, Dayanita Singh

Commissioner/Curator: Susanne Gaensheimer

Venue: Pavilion of France at Giardini

 

Great Britain

Artist: Jeremy Deller

Commissioner: Andrea Rose

Curator: Emma Gifford-Mead

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Greece

Artist: Stefanos Tsivopoulos

Commissioner: Hellenic Ministry of Education and Religious Affairs, Culture and Sports

Curator: Syrago Tsiara

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Holy See

Artists: Lawrence Carroll, Josef Koudelka, Studio Azzurro

Curator: Antonio Paolucci

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Hungary

Artist: Zsolt Asztalos

Commissioner: Kunstahalle (Art Hall)

Curator: Gabriella Uhl

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Iceland

Artist: Katrín Sigurðardóttir

Commissioner: Dorotheé Kirch

Curators: Mary Ceruti , Ilaria Bonacossa

Venue: Lavanderia, Palazzo Zenobio, Collegio Armeno Moorat-Raphael, Fondamenta del Soccorso, Dorsoduro 2596

 

Indonesia

Artists: Albert Yonathan Setyawan, Eko Nugroho, Entang Wiharso, Rahayu Supanggah, Sri Astari, Titarubi

Commissioner: Soedarmadji JH Damais

Deputy Commissioner: Achille Bonito Oliva

Assistant Commissioner: Mirah M. Sjarif

Curators: Carla Bianpoen, Rifky Effendy

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Iraq

Artists: Abdul Raheem Yassir, Akeel Khreef, Ali Samiaa, Bassim Al-Shaker, Cheeman Ismaeel, Furat al Jamil, Hareth Alhomaam, Jamal Penjweny, Kadhim Nwir, WAMI (Yaseen Wami, Hashim Taeeh)

Commissioner: Tamara Chalabi (Ruya Foundation for Contemporary Culture)

Deputy Commissioner: Vittorio Urbani

Curator: Jonathan Watkins.

Venue: Ca' Dandolo, San Tomà, Venezia

 

Ireland

Artist: Richard Mosse

Commissioner, Curator: Anna O’Sullivan

Venue: Fondaco Marcello, San Marco 3415

 

Israel

Artist: Gilad Ratman

Commissioners: Arad Turgeman, Michael Gov

Curator: Sergio Edelstein

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Italy

Artists: Francesco Arena, Massimo Bartolini, Gianfranco Baruchello, Elisabetta Benassi, Flavio Favelli, Luigi Ghirri, Piero Golia, Francesca Grilli, Marcello Maloberti, Fabio Mauri, Giulio Paolini, Marco Tirelli, Luca Vitone, Sislej Xhafa

Commissioner: Maddalena Ragni

Curator: Bartolomeo Pietromarchi

Venue: Italian Pavilion, Tese delle Vergini at Arsenale

 

Ivory Coast

Artists: Frédéric Bruly Bouabré, Tamsir Dia, Jems Koko Bi, Franck Fanny

Commissioner: Paolo De Grandis

Curator: Yacouba Konaté

Venue: Spiazzi, Arsenale, Castello 3865

 

Japan

Artist: Koki Tanaka

Commissioner: The Japan Foundation

Curator: Mika Kuraya

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Kenya

Artists: Kivuthi Mbuno, Armando Tanzini, Chrispus Wangombe Wachira, Fan Bo, Luo Ling & Liu Ke, Lu Peng, Li Wei, He Weiming, Chen Wenling, Feng Zhengjie, César Meneghetti

Commissioner: Paola Poponi

Curators: Sandro Orlandi, Paola Poponi

Venue: Caserma Cornoldi, Castello 4142 and San Servolo island

 

Korea (Republic of)

Artist: Kimsooja

Commissioner/Curator: Seungduk Kim

Deputy Commissioner: Kyungyun Ho

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Kosovo

Artist: Petrit Halilaj

Commissioner: Erzen Shkololli

Curator: Kathrin Rhomberg

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Kuwait

Artists: Sami Mohammad, Tarek Al-Ghoussein

Commissioner: Mohammed Al-Asoussi (National Council of Culture, Arts and Letters)

Curator: Ala Younis

Venue: Palazzo Michiel, Sestriere Cannaregio, Strada Nuova

 

Latin America

Istituto Italo-Latino Americano

Artists:

Marcos Agudelo, Miguel Alvear & Patricio Andrade, Susana Arwas, François Bucher, Fredi Casco, Colectivo Quintapata (Pascal Meccariello, Raquel Paiewonsky, Jorge Pineda, Belkis Ramírez), Humberto Díaz, Sonia Falcone, León & Cociña, Lucía Madriz, Jhafis Quintero, Martín Sastre, Guillermo Srodek-Hart, Juliana Stein, Simón Vega, Luca Vitone, David Zink Yi.

Harun Farocki & Antje Ehmann. In collaboration with: Cristián Silva-Avária, Anna Azevedo, Paola Barreto, Fred Benevides, Anna Bentes, Hermano Callou, Renata Catharino, Patrick Sonni Cavalier, Lucas Ferraço Nassif, Luiz Garcia, André Herique, Bruna Mastrogiovanni, Cezar Migliorin, Felipe Ribeiro, Roberto Robalinho, Bruno Vianna, Beny Wagner, Christian Jankowski

 

Commissioner: Sylvia Irrazábal

Curator: Alfons Hug

Deputy Curator: Paz Guevara

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Latvia

Artists: Kaspars Podnieks, Krišs Salmanis

Commissioners: Zane Culkstena, Zane Onckule

Curators: Anne Barlow, Courtenay Finn, Alise Tifentale

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Lebanon

Artist: Akram Zaatari

Commissioner: Association for the Promotion and Exhibition of the Arts in Lebanon (APEAL)

Curators: Sam Bardaouil, Till Fellrath

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Lithuania

Artist: Gintaras Didžiapetris, Elena Narbutaite, Liudvikas Buklys, Kazys Varnelis, Vytaute Žilinskaite, Morten Norbye Halvorsen, Jason Dodge, Gabriel Lester, Dexter Sinister

Commissioners: Jonas Žokaitis, Aurime Aleksandraviciute

Curator: Raimundas Malašauskas

Venue: Palasport Arsenale, Calle San Biagio 2132, Castello

 

Luxembourg

Artist: Catherine Lorent

Commissioner: Clément Minighetti

Curator: Anna Loporcaro

Venue: Ca’ del Duca, Corte del Duca Sforza, San Marco 3052

 

Macedonia

Artist: Elpida Hadzi-Vasileva

Commissioner: Halide Paloshi

Curator: Ana Frangovska

Venue: Scuola dei Laneri, Santa Croce 113/A

 

Maldives

Participants: Paul Miller (aka DJ Spooky), Thierry Geoffrey (aka Colonel), Gregory Niemeyer, Stefano Cagol, Hanna Husberg, Laura McLean & Kalliopi, Tsipni-Kolaza, Khaled Ramadan, Moomin Fouad, Mohamed Ali, Sama Alshaibi, Patrizio Travagli, Achilleas Kentonis & Maria Papacaharalambous, Wooloo, Khaled Hafez in collaboration with Wael Darwesh, Ursula Biemann, Heidrun Holzfeind & Christoph Draeger, Klaus Schafler

Commissioner: Ministry of Tourism, Arts & Culture

Curators: CPS – Chamber of Public Secrets (Alfredo Cramerotti, Aida Eltorie, Khaled

Ramadan)

Deputy Curators: Maren Richter, Camilla Boemio

Venue: Gervasuti Foundation, Via Garibaldi

 

Mexico

Artist: Ariel Guzik

Commissioner: Gastón Ramírez Feltrín

Curator: Itala Schmelz

Venue: Ex Chiesa di San Lorenzo, Campo San Lorenzo

 

Montenegro

Artist: Irena Lagator Pejovic

Commissioner/Curator: Nataša Nikcevic

Venue: Palazzo Malipiero, San Marco 3078-3079/A, Ramo Malipiero Venezia – Ground Floor

 

The Netherlands

Artist: Mark Manders

Commissioner: Mondriaan Fund

Curator: Lorenzo Benedetti

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

New Zealand

Artist: Bill Culbert

Commissioner: Jenny Harper

Deputy Commissioner: Heather Galbraith

Curator: Justin Paton

Venue: Santa Maria della Pietà, Calle della Pietà, Castello

 

Nordic Pavilion (Finland, Norway)

 

Finland:

Artist: Terike Haapoja

Commissioner: Raija Koli

Curators: Marko Karo, Mika Elo, Harri Laakso

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Norway:

Artists: Edvard Munch, Lene Berg

Commissioner: Office for Contemporary Art Norway (OCA)

Curators: Marta Kuzma, Pablo Lafuente, Angela Vettese

Venue: Galleria di Piazza San Marco, Fondazione Bevilacqua La Masa

 

Paraguay

Artists: Pedro Barrail, Felix Toranzos, Diana Rossi, Daniel Milessi

Commissioner: Elisa Victoria Aquino Laterza

Deputy Commissioner: Nori Vaccari Starck

Curator: Osvaldo González Real

Venue: Palazzo Carminati, Santa Croce 1882

 

Poland

Artist: Konrad Smolenski

Commissioner: Hanna Wróblewska

Curators: Agnieszka Pindera, Daniel Muzyczuk

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Portugal

Artist: Joana Vasconcelos

Commissioner: Direção-Geral das Artes/Secretário de Estado da Cultura, Governo de Portugal

Curator: Miguel Amado

Venue: Riva dei Partigiani

 

Romania

Artists: Maria Alexandra Pirici, Manuel Pelmus

Commissioner: Monica Morariu

Deputy Commissioner: Alexandru Damian

Curator: Raluca Voinea

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Artists: Anca Mihulet, Apparatus 22 (Dragos Olea, Maria Farcas,Erika Olea), Irina Botea, Nicu Ilfoveanu, Karolina Bregula, Adi Matei, Olivia Mihaltianu, Sebastian Moldovan

Commissioner: Monica Morariu

Deputy Commissioner: Alexandru Damian

Curator: Anca Mihulet

Venue: Nuova Galleria dell'Istituto Romeno di Venezia, Palazzo Correr, Campo Santa Fosca, Cannaregio 2214

 

Russia

Artist: Vadim Zakharov

Commissioner: Stella Kasaeva

Curator: Udo Kittelmann

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Serbia

Artists: Vladimir Peric, Miloš Tomic

Commissioner: Maja Ciric

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Singapore

Cancelled the participation

 

Slovenia

Artist: Jasmina Cibic

Commissioner: Blaž Peršin

Curator: Tevž Logar

Venue: Galleria A+A, San Marco 3073

 

South Africa

Contemporary South African Art and the Archive

Commissioner: Saul Molobi

Curator: Brenton Maart

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Spain

Artist: Lara Almarcegui

Commissioner/Curator: Octavio Zaya

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Switzerland

Artist: Valentin Carron

Commissioners: Pro Helvetia - Sandi Paucic and Marianne Burki

Deputy Commissioner: Pro Helvetia - Rachele Giudici Legittimo

Curator: Giovanni Carmine

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Syrian Arab Republic

Artists: Giorgio De Chirico, Miro George, Makhowl Moffak, Al Samman Nabil, Echtai Shaffik, Giulio Durini, Dario Arcidiacono, Massimiliano Alioto, Felipe Cardena, Roberto Paolini, Concetto Pozzati, Sergio Lombardo, Camilla Ancilotto, Lucio Micheletti, Lidia Bachis, Cracking Art Group, Hannu Palosuo

Commissioner: Christian Maretti

Curator: Duccio Trombadori

Venue: Isola di San Servolo

 

Taiwan

Artists: Bernd Behr, Chia-Wei Hsu, Kateřina Šedá + BATEŽO MIKILU

Curator: Esther Lu

Organizer: Taipei Fine Arts Museum

Venue: Palazzo delle Prigioni, Castello 4209, San Marco

 

Thailand

Artists: Wasinburee Supanichvoraparch, Arin Rungjang

Commissioner: Office of Contemporary Art and Culture, Ministry of Culture

Curators: Penwadee Nophaket Manont, Worathep Akkabootara

Venue: Santa Croce 556

 

Turkey

Artist: Ali Kazma

Commissioner: Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts

Curator: Emre Baykal

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale

 

Tuvalu

Artist: Vincent J.F.Huang

Commissioners: Apisai Ielemia, Minister of Foreign Affair, Trade, Tourism, Environment & Labour; Tapugao Falefou, Permanent Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Tourism, Environment & Labour

Curators: An-Yi Pan, Szu Hsien Li, Shu Ping Shih

Venue: Forte Marghera, via Forte Marghera, 30

 

Ukraine

Artists: Ridnyi Mykola, Zinkovskyi Hamlet, Kadyrova Zhanna

Commissioner: Victor Sydorenko

Curators: Soloviov Oleksandr, Burlaka Victoria

Venue: Palazzo Loredan, Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti, Campo Santo Stefano

 

United Arab Emirates

Artist: Mohammed Kazem

Commissioner: Dr. Lamees Hamdan

Curator: Reem Fadda

Venue: Pavilion at Arsenale, Sale d'Armi

 

Uruguay

Artist: Wifredo Díaz Valdéz

Commissioner: Ricardo Pascale

Curators: Carlos Capelán, Verónica Cordeiro

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

USA

Artist: Sarah Sze

Commissioners/Curators: Carey Lovelace, Holly Block

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Venezuela

Colectivo de Artistas Urbanos Venezolanos

Commissioner: Edgar Ernesto González

Curator: Juan Calzadilla

Venue: Pavilion at Giardini

 

Zimbabwe

Artists: Portia Zvavahera, Michele Mathison, Rashid Jogee, Voti Thebe, Virginia Chihota

Commissioner: Doreen Sibanda

Curator: Raphael Chikukwa

Venue: Santa Maria della Pietà, Calle della Pietà, Castello 3701

 

---

  

A very generous friend decided to gift their beloved friend with a custom wooden unicorn. And I had the opportunity to be in the middle of it all! This was a big undertaking, but definitely a worthwhile project! I also love surprises, so it was fun all around.

 

I learned so many things along the way while making this unicorn. It's amazing how much you don't understand something until you try to make it in 3D, lol. When it was complete, Stella almost couldn't bear to be separated from it, she seemed to have taken quite a liking to this horse :D. I think the two quite suit eachother, if I ever have the chance, I'd like to make another animal just for her; I was thinking of a little cat ;)

 

The surprise unicorn is now with its new owner!

  

Check my Etsy if you're interested in a doll of your own ♥

‎Matthew 6 - Giving to the Needy

 

“Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

 

“So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

 

Macro Monday project – 03/25/13

“6 (six)”

Generous view

The expression "pay it forward" is used to describe the concept of asking that a good turn be repaid by having it done to others instead. The word Forward meaning instead of paying back the favour to the person who helped you (who has been helped before by others)they will find three other people to return the favour. They do not have to do it, but they will definitely want to do it, because they have been helped unselfishly and it truly is a pleasure to help without asking for any reward in return. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pay_it_forward

 

For the Macro Monday group "Generosity" theme www.flickr.com/groups/macromonday/

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

Note: Original image of these bracelets in black and white was on the web page of the Pay It Forward site: www.payitforwardtoday.org/ I Photoshoped the colors in for this image.

 

Check out an interactive web site of people that post their own stories of "paying it forward"" iPayitFwd" www.ipayitfwd.com/

 

One of the greatest blessings in my life is an insanely generous and loving family.

 

My brother, Ronnie, went WAY overboard for Christmas and bought me a new Nikon D70s.

 

All I have to do in return is fill his house with photos. Not a bad deal. :D

 

Thanks buddy - Love ya!

  

You adulterers! Don’t you realize that friendship with the world makes you an enemy of God? I say it again: If you want to be a friend of the world, you make yourself an enemy of God. Do you think the Scriptures have no meaning? They say that God is passionate that the spirit he has placed within us should be faithful to him. And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say,

 

“God opposes the proud

but gives grace to the humble.”

 

So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come close to God, and God will come close to you. Wash your hands, you sinners; purify your hearts, for your loyalty is divided between God and the world. Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor.

 

[James 4:4-10 NLT]

 

5 THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW:

 

1. Like it or not, we are ALL sinners: As the Scriptures say, “No one is righteous—not even one. No one is truly wise; no one is seeking God. All have turned away; all have become useless. No one does good, not a single one.” (Romans 3:10-12 NLT)

 

2. The punishment for sin is death: When Adam sinned, sin entered the world. Adam’s sin brought death, so death spread to everyone, for everyone sinned. (Romans 5:12 NLT)

 

3. Jesus is our only hope: But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners. (Romans 5:8 NLT) For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23 NLT)

 

4. SALVATION is by GRACE through FAITH in JESUS: God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it. For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. (Ephesians 2:8-10 NLT)

 

5. Accept Jesus and receive eternal life: If you openly declare that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9 NLT) But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. (John 1:12 NLT) And this is what God has testified: He has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have God’s Son does not have life. (1 John 5:11-12 NLT)

 

Read the Bible for yourself. Allow the Lord to speak to you through his Word. YOUR ETERNITY IS AT STAKE!

Mike's from Detroit and I met him while I was out doing some street shooting with some other photographers a couple of weeks ago. We had walked up to the Bean to wait for someone else so I walked around looking for something interesting to shoot while we waited.

 

I spotted Mike and his son, Patrick, poised by a tripod and you know that I can never resist shooting another photographer! So I took a couple of shots of the two of them and continued to move in closer when they didn't notice or acknowledge me. I finally got close enough to say hello. We started talking about photographing the Bean and I mentioned that I wanted to get some ND filters and do some long exposure daytime shots of the Bean. Mike said that he had an ND filter in his bag and very kindly said that I was welcome to use it. I thanked him but said that I didn't have my tripod with me. He then offered me use of his tripod and he began to take his own camera off. So I accepted his generous and thoughtful offer and took a few shots.

 

We talked more and I found out that Mike was here for the weekend from Detroit with his wife and son. His wife was out doing some Christmas shopping while Mike and Patrick went shooting. Mike works for the FBI and is a well-geared hobbiest photographer. We talked about what we like to shoot and I explained my 100 Strangers project and asked him if he'd be one of my strangers.

 

Thank you, Mike, for the kind loan of your equipment and for being number 17 in my 100 Strangers Project. It was wonderful to meet you. I will definitely be contacting you about shooting up in Detroit sometime soon.

 

Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at 100 Strangers Flickr Group

 

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.

 

Lettice is not long returned from Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie and his wife Arabella. Lettice visited her family home for Christmas and the New Year until not long after Twelfth Night*. For nearly a year Lettice had been patiently awaiting the return of her then beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, after being sent to Durban by his mother, Lady Zinnia in an effort to destroy their relationship which she wanted to end so that she could marry Selwyn off to his cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers. Having been made aware by Lady Zinnia in October that during the course of the year, whilst Lettice had been biding her time, waiting for Selwyn’s eventual return, he had become engaged to the daughter of a Kenyan diamond mine owner whilst in Durban. Fleeing Lady Zinnia’s Park Lane mansion, Lettice returned to Cavendish Mews and milled over her options over a week as she reeled from the news. Then, after that week, she knew exactly what to do to resolve the unpleasant issues raised by Lady Zinnia’s unwelcome news about her son. Taking extra care in her dress, she took herself off to the neighbouring upper-class London suburb of Belgravia and paid a call upon Sir John Nettleford-Hughes.

 

Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John is still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intends to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. As an eligible man in a aftermath of the Great War when such men are a rare commodity, with a vast family estate in Bedfordshire, houses in Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico and Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, quite close to the Glynes estate belonging to her parents, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, invited him as a potential suitor to her 1922 Hunt Ball, which she used as a marriage market for Lettice. Selwyn rescued Lettice from the horror of having to entertain him, and Sir John left the ball early in a disgruntled mood with a much younger partygoer. Lettice recently reacquainted herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate, Gossington, a baronial Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. She then ran into him again at the Portland Gallery’s autumn show in Soho, where she found him yet again to be a pleasant and attentive companion for much of the evening. Sir John also made a proposition to her that night: he offered her his hand in marriage should she ever need it. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them. Turning up unannounced on his doorstep, she agreed to his proposal after explaining that the understanding between she and Selwyn was concluded. However, in an effort to be discreet, at Lettice’s insistence, they did not make their engagement public until the new year: after the dust about Selwyn’s break of his and Lettice’s engagement settled. Sir John motored across from Fontengil Park in the days following New Year and he and Lettice announced their engagement in the palatial Glynes drawing room before the Viscount and Lady Sadie the Countess, Leslie, Arabella and the Viscount’s sister Eglantyne (known by all the Chetwynd children affectionally as Aunt Egg). The announcement was received somewhat awkwardly by the Viscount initially, until Lettice assured him that her choice to marry Sir John has nothing to do with undue influence or mistaken motivations. However, the person most put out by the news is Aunt Egg who is not a great believer in the institution of marriage, and feels Lettice was perfectly fine as a modern unmarried woman.

 

Today Lettice is entertaining her Aunt Egg in her elegantly appointed Cavendish Mews drawing room in an effort to curry favour with her and change her mind about the engagement of Lettice and Sir John.

 

“Oh Aunt Egg!” Lettice exclaims in exasperation, sinking in the rounded back of her white upholstered tub chair. “After the somewhat mediocre response to my engagement to John, I need someone in my corner.”

 

“And why would that be me, my dear Lettice?” Eglantyne asks.

 

“Well, I… I just thought.” Lettice stammers.

 

“You thought what, Lettice?”

 

“Well, usually you are at odds with Mater. If Mater says it is white, you say it is black. I thought, well I thought that since Mamma seems to be as lukewarm to the idea of me becoming the next Lady Nettleford-Hughes..”

 

“That I would immediately be for it, my dear?” Eglantyne finishes Lettice’s statement for her as she picks up her teacup and sips some more tea from it beneath lowered lids, avoiding Lettice’s imploring gaze, before returning it to its saucer.

 

“Well… well yes.” Lettice admits guiltily.

 

Lettice’s Aunt Egg, as well as being unmarried, is an artist and ceramicist of some acclaim. Originally a member of the Pre-Raphaelites** in England, these days she flits through artistic and bohemian circles and when not at her Little Venice*** home in her spacious and light filled studio at the rear of her garden, can be found mixing with mostly younger artistic friends in Chelsea. Her unmarried status, outlandish choice of friends and rather reformist and unusual dress sense shocks Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, and attracts her derision. In addition, she draws Sadie’s ire, as Aunt Egg has always received far more affection and preferential treatment from her children. Viscount Wrexham on the other hand adores his artistic little sister, and has always made sure that she can live the lifestyle she chooses and create art. Today Eglantyne has eschewed her usual choice of an elegant and column like Delphos gown**** and has opted instead for a rather loose and slightly mannish two piece suit of dark navy wool crêpe. However, as a lover of colour and bohemian style, she has accessorised it with a hand painted Florentine silk scarf splashed with purples and magentas, and as usual, she has strings of colourful glass bugle bead sautoirs***** cascading down her front. When she was young, Eglantyne had Titian red hair that fell in wavy tresses about her pale face, making her a popular muse amongst the Pre-Raphaelites she mixed with. With the passing years, her red hair, when not hennaed, has retreated almost entirely behind silver grey, save for the occasional streak of washed out reddish orange. Today she has hidden it beneath a very impressive turban, which in spite of being dyed navy to match her suit, is at odds with it, especially with a rather exotic aigrette****** of magenta dyed feathers affixed with a diamante brooch sticking out of it.

 

“Yes, I was more than a little surprised at Sadie’s lack of enthusiasm for your marriage to John when you announced your engagement, especially when you consider how much she tried to foist you under his nose.” She snorts derisively. “As if he didn’t know of your existence as a young jeune fille à marier*******.” Eglantyne goes on. “However, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lettice my dear, but today I am not the Thoroughbred to back. For once,” She sighs resignedly. “I am in complete agreement with your mamma.”

 

“What?” Lettice asks, looking across the low black japanned coffee table at her aunt. “Won’t you wish your favourite niece well in her marriage Aunt Egg?”

 

“Who says you are my favourite niece?” Eglantyne asks finally engaging Lettice’s gaze with her own emerald green eyes and cocking an eyebrow as she does.

 

“You do!” Lettice retorts in surprise. Then she adds with a little hurt in her voice, “Or rather, you used to.”

 

“But as you have opined, my dear, on many occasions - you are quite sure I call your sister Lally and all your female cousins, ‘my favourite niece’. You’ll never know, will you my dear,” the older woman continues with a cheeky smile. “I like to keep you all guessing who will inherit my jewels when I die.”

 

“Oh Aunt Egg!” Lettice scoffs. “You mustn’t talk like that.”

 

“We all of us are going to die one day, Lettice. Anyway,” Eglantyne smiles and reaches out to her niece, wrapping her knee in one of her gnarled and bejewelled hands in a comforting and intimate gesture. “To allay your fears, you are probably the most like me out of all of you girls, with your artistic tendencies, so why shouldn’t you be my favourite? I’ve always enjoyed indulging you.” She withdraws her loving touch and sinks back into her seat. “Mind you, you might be more of a favourite to me if you let me smoke in here.” She taps her gold cigarette case containing her favourite Black Russian Sobranies******** sitting on the green and gold embroidered stool next to her.

 

“In case you’ve forgotten, Aunt Egg, my drawing room is also my showroom for my interior design business. It’s bad enough that Mrs. Boothby smokes in the kitchen when she comes.”

 

“So, this Mrs. Boothby of yours can smoke, but I can’t?” Eglantyne asks with effrontery.

 

“Mrs. Boothby is my char*********, Aunt Egg. You are my aunt. Good chars like Mrs. Boothby are hard to find, what with the servant problem**********.”

 

“And aunts are easily replaceable?” Eglantyne laughs.

 

“No, but you know what I mean, Aunt Egg!” Lettice laughs. “I’d hate for my drawing room to wreak of cigarette smoke.”

 

“You may not like to hear this my dear, but whilst you might be my favourite because you are most like me in temperament and artistic abilities,” Eglantyne smiles and picks up her teacup again. “In some ways, you are just like your mother.”

 

“Well, if I am your favourite niece, why won’t you give my engagement your blessing, Aunt Egg?” Lettice asks imploringly again.

 

“You know me well enough, my dear Lettice, to know that I have no faith in the institution of marriage.” Eglantyne replies matter-of-factly. “Why on earth should I wish to celebrate with congratulations and champagne, or tea for that matter.” She foists her cup upwards as she speaks. “The contract that sells my independent and intelligent niece with a head for business that many men could well do with, like a chattel to her husband?” She shakes her head. “We shan’t fall out over this, and please know that I love you dearly, but for once, I don’t understand you Lettice. You have a perfectly good and full life.” She gesticulates broadly around her with dramatic and sweeping gestures. “Why would you want to spoil it with an engagement?”

 

“Well I…” Lettice begins, but is interrupted by Edith, her maid as she enters the drawing room, ringing her hands anxiously. Lettice looks across at her. “Yes, what is it, Edith? I don’t think the pot needs replenishing yet, thank you.”

 

“Beg pardon, Miss, but I haven’t come to replenish the pot.” Edith explains. “There’s a man at the tradesman’s entrance with a parcel which he says is for you.”

 

“A parcel, Edith?”

 

“Yes Miss. A very large parcel too, all wrapped up in brown paper.”

 

Lettice looks first at her aunt who returns it with a quizzical gaze, and then glances down at the floral patterns in the Chinese silk carpet at her feet, her face crumpling as she does so. “I’m not expecting any parcels.”

 

“That’s what I thought, Miss.” Edith agrees with a curt nod. “I don’t know if I ought to let him in.”

 

“Well, why ever not, Edith?”

 

“Well, he looks a little rough, if you don’t mind me saying, Miss. He’s a delivery man you see, Miss.”

 

“Delivery men often look rough, Edith.” Lettice opines.

 

“What does he want, Edith?” Eglantyne asks.

 

“That’s just the thing, Miss Chetwynd.” Edith replies, addressing the older woman. “He says Miss Lettice is expecting his parcel.”

 

“But I’m not.”

 

“Yes Miss. Err… I mean, no Miss.” Edith stammers.

 

“Where is he from?” Lettice asks.

 

“The Portland Gallery in Soho, Miss.”

 

“The Portland Gallery? Oh!” gasps Lettice, placing her teacup aside and straightening her skirt so it sits neatly just over her knee. “Show him in!”

 

“Very good Miss.” Edith answers in a slightly worried tone, lowering her head and retreating.

 

“Mr. Chilvers must be sending me something very special on approval if I don’t know anything about it!” Lettice exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat as she trembles with excitement.

 

“Indeed.” her aunt agrees with a smile and a nod.

 

Just then, the bell at the front door rings. When no-one answers it, it jarringly sounds again.

 

“Edith!” Lettice calls from her seat. “Edith there is someone at the door!”

 

“Edith’s dealing with the tradesman from the Portland Gallery.” Eglantyne points out helpfully.

 

“Oh yes!” Lettice exclaims. She rises from her seat as the doorbell rings a third time. “Then I suppose I must go and answer it. Would you excuse me, Aunt Egg?”

 

As Lettice enters the entrance hall with its black japanned console table, Edith comes in through the doorway that leads from the service area of the house.

 

“Beg pardon, Miss. I’m just trying to deal with the man from the Portland Gallery. The parcel’s ever so large and he needs someone to hold the doors open for him, Miss.”

 

“It’s alright, Edith.” Lettice assures her with a wave and a nod of her head. “I’ll answer the front door.”

 

“Thank you, Miss.” Edith replies gratefully, retreating quickly back into the corridor behind the door.

 

When Lettice answers the door, she finds to both her surprise and delight, Sir John on her threshold, dressed in a splendid three-quarter length grey winter overcoat with a glossy beaver fur collar, it’s smart cut and perfect fit indicating at a glance that it has come from one of the finest Jermyn Street*********** tailors. He holds his silver topped walking cane in his grey glove clad hand and smiles warmly at Lettice, his eyes sparkling at the sight of her.

 

“Well, this is a surprise, John!” Lettice exclaims in pleasure.

 

“No more than it is a surprise to find you answering your own front door, Lettice my dear.” Sir John says with a mirthful lilt to his voice, a cheekiness turning up the corners of his smile. “What a thoroughly modern woman you are to dispense with the usual protocols.”

 

“Well,” Lettice replies with an awkward and embarrassed laugh. “Usually I wouldn’t, but… well Edith is occupied with a tradesman bringing me an apparently large package from the Portland Gallery.”

 

“That sounds rather thrilling, my darling!” Sir John replies with arched eyebrows. Elegantly, he leans in and kisses Lettice’s right cheek before stepping back slightly and withdrawing a bunch of beautiful red roses with a theatrical flourish and a smile from behind his back. “For you!”

 

“Oh John!” Lettice exclaims, accepting the proffered red blooms, their velvety petals slightly open and releasing a waft of sweet fragrance. “They’re beautiful.” She spends a moment admiring them and appreciating their scent before she suddenly realises that Sir John is still standing on her front doormat. “Oh, where are my manners!” she gasps. “Please, do come inside.” She steps aside and allows Sir John to enter. “Aunt Egg is visiting too. We’re just in the drawing room.”

 

“Oh splendid.” Sir John opines. “lead the way.”

 

The pair walk back into the drawing room where Aunt Egg remains seated. Lettice scurries ahead and deposits the roses on the stool next to the seat her aunt occupies before she pulls a back japanned Chippendale chair across the carpet and draws it up to the coffee table between Lettice’s two armchairs.

 

“Look who it is, Aunt Egg!” Lettice says brightly.

 

“John!” Eglantyne replies. “What a surprise. How do you do.”

 

“How do you do, Eglantyne.” he replies. “I just happened to be passing, and I thought I’d stop, in the hopes of catching Lettice.”

 

“And with a bunch of roses!” Eglantyne remarks, reaching out at touching the rich blooms. “You are sure of yourself.”

 

Lettice turns to her fiancée as he places his derby on a small round chinoiserie tabletop and starts to unbutton his coat whilst still clutching his gloves and his cane in his left hand. “Here, let me take those.” she says apologetically, reaching out. Laughing awkwardly as she accepts his coat she adds, “As you can see, I’d never make a good maid.”

 

“It’s just as well that I don’t want to marry one then, isn’t it, Lettice my darling.” Sir John replies with a chuckle.

 

She smiles. “Aunt Egg and I were just having tea. I’ll have Edith fetch a third cup when she arrives.”

 

Moments later an unnerved Edith shows a rather burley fellow in overalls and a workman’s cap clutching a tall and wide parcel wrapped in brown paper into the drawing room where he stands awkwardly before the assembled company, somewhat dumbstruck by the elegant surroundings and well dressed inhabitants of Lettice’s drawing room as he glances around.

 

“You must be Mr. Chilver’s man.” Lettice says, breaking the awkward silence.

 

“Yes mum! Said ‘e ‘ad a package for you, mum. Special delivery.”

 

“Yes! Yes! Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting it, but if you would be good enough to lean it down here,” she indicates with a sweeping gesture to the Hepplewhite desk next to the fireplace. “Thank you.”

 

“Yes mum.” the delivery man says gratefully, gently lowering the parcel with a groan and leaning it against the edge of the desk.

 

“Excellent.” Lettice replies. “Oh Edith,”

 

“Yes Miss?”

 

“Could you take Sir John’s coat, hat and gloves, please.” Lettice proffers the clothing items to her maid. “And fetch another cup, please.”

 

“Yes Miss.” Edith replies, accepting the items and bobbing a quick curtsey before turning to go.

 

“Oh and Edith,” Lettice goes on.

 

“Yes Miss?” Edith answers, turning back.

 

“Please take a couple of sixpences out of the housekeeping money tin to tip our man here.” Lettice smiles gratefully at her maid. “I’ll replenish it later.”

 

“Yes Miss,” Edith replies bemused. “Very good, Miss.”

 

“Much obliged, mum.” the burly man replies, snatching his cap from his head and twisting it anxiously between his hands, before turning at Edith’s insistence and following her as she guides him back through the green baize door between the dining room and the service area of the flat.

 

“Were your ears burning, John?” Eglantyne asks.

 

“No!” he chuckles in reply. “Should they have been?”

 

“Lettice and I were just discussing your engagement.” Eglantyne elucidates.

 

“Were you?” Sir John arches his elegantly shaped eyebrows as he gazes knowingly and undeterred at Eglantyne. “Ahh well, thinking of that,” he goes on, a confident smile gracing his thin lips. “I know you wouldn’t have been expecting this parcel, Lettice my dear.” His smile broadens with pleasure, not least of all for having an audience in Eglantyne. “But it comes from me. I arranged to have it sent over. Mr. Chilvers has been kindly holding onto it for me.” He steps over to the parcel and hoists it up with a groan, leaning it against himself as the edge rests on the black japanned surface of the coffee table. “Now that it is official, and our engagement will be appearing in The Times, and the Wiltshire Times and Trowbridge Advertiser************, this is my gift to my bride-to-be!”

 

“Oh John!” Lettice exclaims.

 

“What is it?” Eglantyne asks, leaning forward, her beads trailing down her front rattling noisily together as she does.

 

“Well, why don’t you open it and find out, Lettice?” Sir John says, gazing at his future bride expectantly and extending his left hand encouragingly towards her as he speaks.

 

Lettice needs no second bidding. With trembling hands, she steps forward and gingerly tears at a loose piece of paper which rips noisily as she pulls it asunder. The corner of a simple wooden frame appears first, and then as she continues to tear at the paper, growing more excited with each rip, Lettice can soon see the bold colours and energetic strokes of thickly layered paint on canvas.

 

“Picasso’s ‘The Lovers’!” Eglantyne gasps in amazement.

 

“You bought it!” Lettice exclaims, raising her hand to her painted lips, upon which a broad smile appears. “For me?”

 

Angular lines pick out the faces and torsos of two figures on the canvas. Eyes, noses, hands, two thin lines making up a mouth. Fragmented, distorted and distracted the image radiates intimacy as much as it does boldness: a hand resting on a shoulder, the pair of figures’ heads drawn closely together, both with eyes downcast.

 

“Well, I could hardly declare that I would allow you to hang these daubs of modern art you so dearly, if in my opinion misguidedly, love, unless I gave you at least one to hang.” Sir John says proudly.

 

“Oh John! I don’t know what to say!” Lettice places a chaste kiss on his proffered left cheek.

 

“A thank you is customary.” Sir John answers with a chuckle.

 

“Thank you! You are a darling, John!” Lettice gushes, kissing him chastely on the lips this time, and embracing her fiancée. “Oh! I love it!”

 

Sir John chuckles. “I’m glad, Lettice darling.”

 

“But where will you hang it for now, Lettice?” Eglantyne asks. “Until you can hang it on one of John’s walls?” she adds, referring to Sir John’s previous comment.

 

“Well, I thought Lettice could hang it in here, above the fireplace.” Sir John answers for Lettice, indicating to the space above the mantle currently occupied by a colourful still life of pottery and fruit.

 

“Oh no!” Lettice exclaims, shaking her head. “It’s far too intimate a painting to hang in here.” The tips of her fingers run across her lips playfully and her eyes sparkle as Lettice drunks in the fine details of the colours and the textures of the brushstrokes. “I shall hang it in my boudoir, and that way I can look at it every morning until we are married, John darling!”

 

Lettice immediately turns on her heel and hurries out of the drawing room and into the entrance hall of the flat, calling for Edith to help her move a painting in her bedroom.

 

“Well,” Eglantyne remarks as she sinks back languidly into her seat again, staring up at the painting in Sir Johns hands. “You are full of surprises, my dear John.”

 

Sir John lifts the painting off the surface of the coffee table and shakes it, freeing it of the last of its brown paper protective wrapping.

 

“I never would have imagined you buying a Picasso.” Eglantyne goes on, admiring the boldness of the artwork as Sir John lowers it back to the ground and carefully leans it against the edge of the desk again.

 

“Well,” he remarks as he bends down and gathers up the paper, scrunching it noisily together in a big ball. “It’s not for me, but for Lettice.” He pauses with the large ball of paper in his hands and looks at Lettice’s aunt earnestly. “I really do care for her, you know.” he states with determination.

 

“Oh I don’t doubt it, John, but as I was saying to Lettice before your unexpected arrival, I cannot with all good conscience condone your engagement.”

 

“Why not, Eglantyne?”

 

“You know perfectly well, John, that I am a free spirit. I don’t believe in, nor have any faith in, the institution of marriage that society seems so desparate to conform us all to.” Eglantyne replies matter-of-factly. “As I remarked to Lettice just a short while ago, why on earth should I wish to celebrate the contract that sells my beautiful, intelligent and independent niece like a chattel?” She picks up her nearly empty teacup of now tepid tea. “Lettice had a perfectly good and full life before she became engaged to you.”

 

“Now don’t be bitter, Eglantyne dear.” Sir John chides.

 

“I’m not. I’m simply stating the fact that Lettice was perfectly fine on her own: a single and independent modern woman, just as she has every right to be.”

 

“Has she no right to be a happily married woman, Eglantyne?”

 

“She won’t be happy with you, John. No girl with marriage prospects like Lettice will. And, before you say it,” She wags a heavily bejewelled gnarled finger at Sir John. “I didn’t encourage her involvement with Selwyn Spencely either, unlike her mother who is so besotted with pedigree and titles, so I’m not playing favourites. Lettice was perfectly fine without any man in her life. In fact, she was just embarking on what promised to be a most successful career as an interior designer, but now pfftt!” Sir John can see her lips pursed tightly together in disapproval. Her eyes glow with frustration. “It’s gone! Just like that!”

 

“Says whom?” Sir John asks defensively.

 

“Your marriage contract.” Eglantyne replies with squinting eyes boring into him.

 

“No, it doesn’t, Eglantyne, or rather it won’t, which shows you just how little you know, and what little faith you place in me as a suitable suitor for your precious favourite niece!” When her eyes grow wide in surprise at his sudden harsh outburst at her, Sir John continues, “I’ll have you know that I have made an agreement with Lettice that when she marries me, she may continue her interior design business. Heaven save me from a bored and idle wife with nothing to do all day.” He rolls his eyes.

 

“Except interfere in your own affairs.”

 

“Exactly Eglantyne!” Sie John agrees. “I’m a businessman. She’s a businesswoman, and a successful one, as you’ve pointed out. Why should I stop her from reaching the heights she aspires to and her full potential?”

 

“Then you’re a better man than I took you for, John.” Eglantyne acquiesces.

 

“You did say I was full of surprises.”

 

“I did.”

 

“But?” Sir John says, picking up the unspoken word from Eglantyne’s lips. He shakes his head. “Do you really despise me so?”

 

Eglantyne lifts her eyes to the ornate plaster ceiling above as she shakes her own head as she raises her hand to her rumpled brow. She sighs heavily. “I don’t despise you, John.”

 

“Then what, Eglantyne?”

 

“Come.” She pats the Art Deco patterned cushioned seat of the Chippendale chair next to her. As he walks around the coffee table and lowers himself onto it, she continues, “You mustn’t spread this rumour around, John, but I actually quite like you as a person. I think you and I are rather alike in some ways, which is probably why I do like you. We’re both forthright, even when society suggests we ought not to be, and you’ve never conformed to the societal rule that you should get married.”

 

“Then…”

 

“Until now.”

 

“Well, maybe I just hadn’t met the right girl, up until now.” Sir John defends, smiling smugly with a cocked eyebrow, staring at Eglantyne with defiance.

 

“Oh come!” Eglantyne scoffs. “You’ve never involved yourself with the right girls to get married to in the first place, John. You’ve always had a penchant for chorus girls - young chorus girls. Everyone knows that.” She glances up and looks towards the open doorway of the drawing room. In the flat beyond it she can hear Lettice instruct Edith to help her remove a painting off her boudoir wall. “Well, almost everyone.”

 

“Is that all?” Sir John laughs.

 

“What do you mean is that all?” Eglantyne exclaims in effrontery. “I may not have the belief in the sanctity of marriage, but that isn’t to say my niece doesn’t! This is not an inconsequential step for her. I question your motives.” She eyes him now that they are at the same level. “Just what are you up to, John?”

 

“Me?” He feigns innocence as he holds his hands up in defence. “I’m not up to anything, as you so bluntly put it, Eglantyne. Perhaps your somewhat suspicious mind will be put at ease when I tell you that your intelligent young niece has walked into this marriage proposal with completely open eyes.”

 

“I doubt that!” Eglantyne scoffs again.

 

“Oh but that is where you are wrong, Eglantyne. She knows about my… err… dalliances, shall we say, just as you do.”

 

“So, she knows about Paula Young then?” Eglantyne asks, referring to the young up-and-coming West End actress who is the latest in Sir John’s list of conquests.

 

“Not by name as such, no.” Sir John admits. “I felt it was a little…” He pauses as he tries to think of the correct phrasing. “Indelicate at this sensitive stage in our engagement to introduce her by name. However, she does know, Eglantyne, and she also knows that I won’t shame her publicly – which I give you my assurance I won’t. I’ll never give her a reason to reproach me, and in return for her allowing me my little dalliances with the likes of Paula and those who follow her into my bed thereafter, and keeping them in her confidence, she gets to maintain her business unimpeded by me, be the chatelaine of all my properties, and live a life of luxury. In return, I get an intelligent and pretty wife to appear alongside me at social functions, and maybe some of that idle society gossip can finally be put to bed.”

 

“Really, John?” Eglantyne exclaims in disbelief. “It’s hardly a marriage I’d condone my niece to enter. A marriage of convenience that suits you.”

 

“I promise I’ll make her happy, Eglantyne.” Sir John assures her.

 

“With pretty paintings paid for with deep pockets?” Eglantyne gesticulates towards the Picasso.

 

“We’re both getting exactly what we want out of the bargain.”

 

“Really, John?” Eglantyne asks again with incredulity. “I don’t possibly see how being permitted to continue her business affairs is enough in a marriage to make Lettice happy.”

 

“If I’m being perfectly honest, which I know I can be with you, dear Eglantyne,” Sir John goes on. “As part of our arrangement, so long as she gives me an heir, and there is no question as to his paternity, I am also giving Lettice the opportunity to engage in arrangements of her own outside the marriage bed, should she choose to indulge.”

 

Eglantyne shudders. “I still cannot condone such a marriage, even with that clause. A marriage of two people loving anyone other than one another is recipe for tears and divorce. There is no happiness that I can see for poor Lettice.” She sighs. “Nor for you in the long run, you sad, misguided soul. However, she has made up her mind,” She pauses. “For now ,anyway, whilst she is besotted with the idea. Let’s see how long that lasts for once the realties of this arrangement of yours start to solidify in Lettice’s mind. Will you let her go if she comes to her senses before she walks up the aisle?”

 

“Of course, Eglantyne. Lettice isn’t the only one who has her eyes open. I know I’m much older than her, and that perhaps my dalliances may be too much for a sensitive soul like Lettice, but I aim to keep them as discreetly far away from her sphere as possible.”

 

“Can a leopard change his spots, thus?” Eglantyne leans forward. “Don’t forget that I have known you for a long time, John. Discretion has never been your strongest suit.”

 

“Well, Eglantyne,” Sir John stares back at her. “We shall just have to wait and see.”

 

“Indeed we will see.” Eglantyne nods knowingly.

 

*Twelfth Night (also known as Epiphany Eve depending upon the tradition) is a Christian festival on the last night of the Twelve Days of Christmas, marking the coming of the Epiphany. Different traditions mark the date of Twelfth Night as either the fifth of January or the sixth of January, depending on whether the counting begins on Christmas Day or the twenty-sixth of December. January the sixth is celebrated as the feast of Epiphany, which begins the Epiphanytide season.

 

**The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (later known as the Pre-Raphaelites) was a group of English painters, poets, and art critics, founded in 1848 by William Holman Hunt, John Everett Millais, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, William Michael Rossetti, James Collinson, Frederic George Stephens and Thomas Woolner who formed a seven-member "Brotherhood" modelled in part on the Nazarene movement. The Brotherhood was only ever a loose association and their principles were shared by other artists of the time, including Ford Madox Brown, Arthur Hughes and Marie Spartali Stillman. Later followers of the principles of the Brotherhood included Edward Burne-Jones, William Morris and John William Waterhouse. The group sought a return to the abundant detail, intense colours and complex compositions of Quattrocento Italian art. They rejected what they regarded as the mechanistic approach first adopted by Mannerist artists who succeeded Raphael and Michelangelo. The Brotherhood believed the classical poses and elegant compositions of Raphael in particular had been a corrupting influence on the academic teaching of art, hence the name "Pre-Raphaelite".

 

***Little Venice is an affluent residential district in West London, England, around the junction of the Paddington Arm of the Grand Union Canal, the Regent's Canal, and the entrance to Paddington Basin. The junction, also known as Little Venice and Browning's Pool, forms a triangular shape basin designed to allow long canal boats to turn around. Many of the buildings in the vicinity are Regency white painted stucco terraced town houses and taller blocks (mansions) in the same style.

 

****The Delphos gown is a finely pleated silk dress first created in about 1907 by French designer Henriette Negrin and her husband, Mariano Fortuny y Madrazo. They produced the gowns until about 1950. It was inspired by, and named after, a classical Greek statue, the Charioteer of Delphi. It was championed by more artistic women who did not wish to conform to society’s constraints and wear a tightly fitting corset.

 

*****A sautoir is a French term for a long necklace that suspends a tassel or other ornament.

 

******An aigrette is a headdress consisting of a white egret's feather or other decoration such as a spray of gems.

 

*******A jeune fille à marier was a marriageable young woman, the French term used in fashionable circles and the upper-classes of Edwardian society before the Second World War.

 

********The Balkan Sobranie tobacco business was established in London in 1879 by Albert Weinberg (born in Romania in 1849), whose naturalisation papers dated 1886 confirm his nationality and show that he had emigrated to England in the 1870s at a time when hand-made cigarettes in the eastern European and Russian tradition were becoming fashionable in Europe. Sobranie is one of the oldest cigarette brands in the world. Throughout its existence, Sobranie was marketed as the definition of luxury in the tobacco industry, being adopted as the official provider of many European royal houses and elites around the world including the Imperial Court of Russia and the royal courts of United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Spain, Romania, and Greece. Premium brands include the multi-coloured Sobranie Cocktail and the black and gold Sobranie Black Russian.

 

********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.

 

**********With new employment opportunities opening for working-class women in factories and department stores between the two World Wars, many young people, mostly female, left the long hours, hard graft and low wages of domestic service opting for the higher wages and better treatment these new employment opportunities provided.

 

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

 

************The Wiltshire Times and Trowbridge Advertiser is weekly newspaper which serves the towns of west Wiltshire, including Trowbridge. Printed in Trowbridge it was established in 1854 by Benjamin Lansdown, as The Trowbridge and Wiltshire Advertiser. Benjamin was born in Trowbridge and was the son of a woollen mill employee but this was not the path he wished to follow and he was apprenticed as a printer alongside Mr John Sweet. He bought a hard press and second-hand typewriter before starting his own newspaper, along with establishing his own stationery shop in Silver Street around 1860. He moved the business into 15 Duke Street around 1876. Duke Street became home to the impressive R. Hoe & Co printing press that allowed printers to use continuous rolls of paper, instead of individual sheets, to speed up the process and countless copies of the newspaper rolled off the press at Duke Street for many years. The newspaper was based there for more than one hundred years and the business remained within the Lansdown family for generations until it was finally sold in the early 1960s. Over the years in had various names including The Trowbridge and North Wiltshire Advertiser from 1860 until 1880, The Wiltshire Times and Trowbridge Advertiser from 1880 until 1949, The Wiltshire Times between 1950 and 1962 and The Wiltshire Times & News between 1962 and 1963. It then became known as the Wiltshire Times – the banner it holds today. In 2019, the Wiltshire Times and its sister paper the Gazette & Herald moved to offices on the White Horse Business Park in North Bradley, stating that its Duke Street building was no longer fit for purpose. These offices later closed in 2020 as the three Covid-19 pandemic lockdowns struck. The Wiltshire times is still serving the local community both in a paper and an online format with a small team of journalists who passionately believe in the value of good trusted journalism and providing in-depth local news coverage.

 

This 1920s upper-class drawing room is different to what you may think at first glance, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

Central to our story, the “Lovers” painting by Picasso is a 1:12 miniature painted by hand in the style of Picasso by miniature artist Mandy Dawkins of Miniature Dreams in Thrapston. The frame was handmade by her husband John Dawkins.

 

Lettice’s tea set is a beautiful artisan set featuring a rather avant-garde Art Deco Royal Doulton design from the Edwardian era called “Falling Leaves”. The glass comport is made of real glass and was blown by hand is an artisan miniature acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The bunch of red roses to the far left of the image also comes from Beautifully handmade Miniatures.

 

The very realistic floral arrangements around the room are made by hand by the Doll House Emporium in America who specialise in high end miniatures.

 

The Vogue magazine that you see on Lettice’s coffee table is a 1:12 size miniature made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors, although this is amongst the exception. In some cases, you can even read the words of the titles, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s opening books are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

Sir John’s silver knobbed walking stick is also a 1:12 artisan miniature. The top is sterling silver. It was made by the Little Green Workshop in England who specialise in high end, high quality miniatures.

 

Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The Hepplewhite chair has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.

 

On the top of the Hepplewhite bureau stand three real miniature photos in frames including an Edwardian silver frame, a Victorian brass frame and an Art Deco blue Bakelite and glass frame.

 

The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.

 

The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Generous expansion

Active in common

Creative source

...it is early morning in the middle-city urban tier at the level where people are not rich and still not poor...

 

a needle perforated old junkie walks around asking working class people if they could spare him some fractions of a credit, he is unlucky today, so he decides to sit down and shot up the last stash he has in to his torn veins...

 

the Drunk Reflagan from the aquatic kingdom is more lucky, he just got enough to get his first alcohol and is starting to get rather loud so a platform host cleaning the floor rushes over to tell him off...

 

most people don´t notice any of this, because their mind are dull and grey from overworking almost all day and then at night hooking up to the forbidden computer-net every night just to watch pirate movies about people living better lives or streaming new from their home world...

  

Lepanthes felis 'Kevin's Generosity' AM/AOS, CCM/AOS - Ron Parsons

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.

 

Lettice is nursing a broken heart. Her beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, has been sent to Durban for a year by his mother, the Duchess of Walmsford, Lady Zinnia in an effort to destroy their relationship which she wants to end so that she can marry Selwyn off to his cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers. Lettice returned home to Glynes to lick her wounds, however it only served to make matters worse as she grew even more morose. It was from the most unlikely of candidates, her mother Lady Sadie, with whom Lettice has always had a fraught relationship, that Lettice received the best advice, which was to stop feeling sorry for herself and get on with her life and wait patiently for Selwyn’s eventual return. Since then, Lettice has been trying to follow her mother’s advice and has thrown herself into the merry dance of London’s social round of dinners, dances and balls. However, even she could only keep this up for so long, and on New Year’s Eve, her sister, Lally, suggested that she spend a few extra weeks resting and recuperating with her in Buckinghamshire before returning to London and trying to get on with her life. Lettice happily agreed, however her rest cure ended abruptly with a letter from her Aunt Egg in London, summoned Lettice back to the capital and into society in general. Through her social connections, Aunt Egg has contrived an invitation for Lettice and her married Embassy Club coterie friends Dickie and Margot Channon, to an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party of Sir John and Lady Caxton, who are very well known amongst the smarter bohemian set of London society for their amusing weekend parties at their Scottish country estate and enjoyable literary evenings in their Belgravia townhouse. Lady Gladys is a successful authoress in her own right and writes under the nom de plume of Madeline St John, so they attract a mixture of witty writers and artists mostly.

 

Now we find ourselves in the cosy and cluttered, old fashioned Art and Crafts decorated drawing room of Gossington, the Scottish Baronial style English Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland belonging to Sir John and Lady Gladys, where Lettice, Margot and Dickie have joined their hosts along with a few stragglers who arrived on a later train to Carlisle who were chauffeured to the house from the railway station there.

 

Lady Gladys stands by one of the full length windows looking out at the countryside beyond. Her face crumples up as she stares at the roiling and dark clouds in the sky. She pats her finger waved grey hair anxiously, as though trying to protect it from being spoiled by the rain she perceives is coming, “Looks like the weather is on the turn, John.”

 

“What’s that, Gladys?” her husband pipes up, glancing over the top of his book from his Savonarola chair by the crackling fire.

 

“I said it’s starting to cloud over.” she replies in a slightly louder voice, turning to face him so he can hear her more clearly. “I do hope that it doesn’t rain on Pheobe and the other ramblers.”

 

“I’m sure they can all shelter in a barn somewhere.” he replies. “It will be a new and novel experience for some of them.”

 

Snorts and muffles giggles come from a few of the guests sitting about the room enjoying indoor pursuits.

 

Sir John looks over at the clusters of heads lowered together and chuckles good-naturedly as he remarks, “Don’t get so self-righteous you lot!” He closes his book. “I bet it would be a new and novel experience for most of you too!”

 

Lady Gladys wanders across the room, toying with the long string of pearls about her neck and takes a seat, just as Lettice appears at the door of the drawing room.

 

“Oh, do come in Lettice,” Lady Gladys says warmly from a corner of the Knole sofa* upholstered in William Morris’** ‘Strawberry Thief’ fabric. “Come and sit with me.” She softly pats the cushion next to her, the action emitting a small cloud of dust motes.

 

“Thank you Lady Caxton.” Lettice replies as she walks across the room, squeezing between the clusters of chairs and occasional tables, some occupied by the late arriving guests, including Dickie and Margot, playing a range of parlour games on offer from the Gossington games cupboard.

 

“Ah!” the hostess wags her finger admonishing at Lettice. “I might be older than your mother, my dear, but here, we are egalitarian. We are all on a first name basis. I am Gladys and Sir John is just, John. Hmmm?”

 

“Very well, thank you, Gladys.” Lettice replies awkwardly, a little startled by this revelation, as she sits on the opposite end of the sofa, closest to the fire.

 

“Gladys is an old Fabian*** from before you were born, Lettice.” Sir John adds with a kindly wink from his seat opposite her.

 

“Not so much of the old, thank you John!” Gladys remarks, pretending to be offended. “Remember, I’m younger than you.”

 

“That doesn’t say much when you compare yourself to all these youngsters!” He waves his hand about the room.

 

“That’s why I like young people,” Gladys smiles indulgently at Lettice, directing her comment to her rather than her husband. “They help keep me young with their talk of nightclubs, the latest shows and the like.”

 

“More like it gives you fodder for your next novel, Gladys.” He looks lovingly at his wife, a mischievous glint in his sparkling blue eyes and a cheeky smile playing across his lips. “Writing vicariously through others.”

 

“It pays to keep up to date with the latest trends, John. I don’t want to fall out of fashion.”

 

“I don’t think your novels will ever fall out of fashion, Lady… err, Gladys.” Lettice remarks magnanimously.

 

“You’re a flatterer, that’s for certain!” Lady Gladys chuckles. “You’ll get on. I shall graciously accept your compliment.” Her pale, wrinkled face stills for a moment as a far away look glazes over her eyes. “We none of us think we will fall out of fashion, but we do, in one way or another – especially as we get older. Take this room for example. Decorated in what was once the height of fashion. Would you decorate your home in this way, my dear Lettice?”

 

From her vantage point, Lettice gazes around the room. Looking at the William Morris ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern on the sofa, woven carpet and the Morris ‘Poppies’ wallpaper, Lettice estimates the room, like most around the grey stone castle, were decorated in the late Nineteenth Century during the heyday of the Arts and Crafts Movement. A hotch-potch of furnishings that jostle comfortably for space suggests a period of prosperity driven acquisition over the ensuing years up until the Great War, yet each piece is of high quality and well made, implying her hosts’ dedication to the arts, as do the ornaments that cover surfaces around the room, all of which are beautiful and handmade. Old paintings of Scottish landscapes remind Lettice of Sir John’s proud heritage, whilst the large number of books tell her of Lady Caxton’s literary pursuits and success.

 

“Oh, I think it’s charming,” Lettice replies. “You obviously have an eye for fine workmanship and artistry.”

 

“But?” Lady Gladys picks up Lettice’s unspoken thought.

 

“But no, I wouldn’t decorate my home like this.”

 

“That’s the correct answer, Lettice.” Lady Gladys replies kindly. “And, if I were your age, I wouldn’t either. It’s fusty and old fashioned.”

 

“It is lovely though, and all my modern ideas would look out of place in a room like this. You need to have older things here, not what is fashionable and up-to-date. It would look out of place.”

 

“Tea, Lettice?” Gladys leans forward towards the low beautifully hand embroidered footstool before her and picks up an empty cup. “Or would you prefer coffee?”

 

“Oh, tea will be fine Lady Cax… err, I mean, Gladys.” She chuckles awkwardly at such familiarity with people she barely knows. “White and one sugar, please.”

 

“Good. I’ve never been one for coffee myself.” Lady Gladys pours tea from the silver pot into the cup over the sugar, and adds a slosh of milk, before she passes it to Lettice to stir. “I do hope you found your room to be satisfactory, Lettice.”

 

“It’s lovely. Thank you. I shall feel like Sleeping Beauty when I retire.”

 

“Hhmmm,” Gladys smiles understandingly. “Yes. I thought you’d like the décor in there.”

 

“The Art Nouveau wallpaper is lovely. It is William Morris, like in here, is it not?”

 

“Yes,” Lady Gladys remarks with a surprised lilt in her voice. “How clever of you to notice. It’s ‘Sweet Briar’, so your reference to Briar Rose is most apt, my dear.”

 

“My Aunt Eglantine has it in her bedroom in Chelsea. She loves William Morris too.”

 

“And you, Lettice? Do you like William Morris?” Lady Gladys asks.

 

“I like a mixture of old and new, Lad… Gladys. I think a well placed antique on a modern table adds elegance, and I think a William Morris cushion,” She pulls the cushion from behind her back and looks at it thoughtfully. “Could look splendid as an accent on a plain coloured settee.”

 

“How is Eglantine?” Sir John asks, changing the subject as he takes a sip of his own cup of tea.

 

“I didn’t know you were acquainted with my Aunt, Sir John, until my aunt told me of my invitation to this weekend.”

 

“Just John, my dear.” he corrects Lettice politely, causing her to blush. “Remember the old Fabian in the room.” He nods at his wife. “And yes, Gladys and I have similar artistic and literary pursuits to her, so we know Eglantyne quite well.”

 

“I have some of her pieces,” Lady Gladys remarks proudly and indicates firstly to two dainty pots of hand painted petunias on the mantlepiece, which are part of Eglantyne’s pre-war work, and then to a pedestal next to a very full bookcase, where one of Lettice’s aunt’s more modern pottery pieces sits. “She is a wonderful ceramicist and artist. She can create such beautiful sinuous lines in pottery. It really is remarkable.”

 

“She doesn’t do that so much now,” Lettice remarks.

 

“That’s a pity.” Lady Gladys replies a little sadly. “It’s a shame to waste such a gift.”

 

“Her arthritis slows her somewhat when it comes to ceramics, and she is seldom happy with the results. She’s following different pursuits these days.”

 

“She paints now, doesn’t she?” Sir Caxton asks.

 

“She does… John. She’s currently painting a piece for the Royal Academy.”

 

“Excellent! We shall look forward to seeing that, shan’t we Gladys?”

 

“Oh indeed, John. And of course, she has her embroidery.” Lady Gladys adds.

 

Lettice laughs softly. “I fear sometimes that if I sit still in her drawing room for long enough, one day she might embroider me.”

 

A thunderclap breaks outside. It’s noise echoes through the atmosphere inside, sending a collective shiver through the guests in the room.

 

“I told you, John. Pheobe and the others are sure to get rained upon now.” She glances around the high wing of the Knole sofa to the window. Looking back at Lettice, she picks up her own teacup and tops it up with tea from the pot before continuing, “Pheobe, our niece and ward, has taken all the other young guests for the weekend on a ramble about the estate to help everyone work up an appetite for dinner. I do hope they will be back soon, especially now that it’s going to pour.”

 

“I bet they all went to the pub in the village for a lark.” Dickie remarks from where he sits. “And they are quite cosy and warm in there. They’ll be back when they are good and ready.”

 

“You may be right, young Dickie!” Sir John chortles.

 

“I’m puzzled,” Lettice says, her face crumpling up in thought. “As to why you asked me here for the weekend.”

 

“Puzzled, my dear?” Lady Gladys asks.

 

“Yes. I must confess I was very surprised to receive your kind invitation – delighted, but surprised. I mean, we’ve never met as far as I’m aware. Is it because of your connection to my aunt?”

 

“Well, that does have a little to do with it, Lettice,” Sir John explains. “You are your aunt’s favourite niece…”

 

“She says that to all of us Si… err, John.”

 

“Well, be that as it may, she has spoken to us about you and your talents over many years, particularly since you have come of age. However, Gladys and I keep our own eye on the artistic scene in London, so your name has been mentioned to us a number of times on different occasions.”

 

“Really?” Lettice asks in astonishment.

 

“Oh yes,” adds Lady Gladys. “Surely you must know that you’re gaining quite a reputation now, for your stylish interior designs.”

 

“Especially after that article in Country Life, showing the work you did for Margot and Dickie,” Sir John nods in the direction of the couple, ensconced together on an Art Nouveau sofa, happily playing cards. “It looked wonderful! So fresh and elegant with all those clean lines that are so fashionable now.”

 

“We did so want to finally meet you, dear Lettice.” Lady Gladys adds.

 

“Well,” Lettice blushes. “I’m very flattered, and honoured to be invited to Gossington. Your weekend parties are famous for being filled with fun and enjoyment.”

 

“Then I hope we shall not disappoint, dear Lettice.” Sir John beams.

 

“I’m sure with the return of the others, you won’t be starved for wit and aristocratic intelligentsia.” Lady Gladys adds. “Your aunt tells us that you can be quite witty yourself, and you obviously have intelligence amongst other attributes.”

 

Lettice notices a look exchanged between her two hosts but can’t read what it means.

 

“Ahem, Lettice,” Sir John clears his throat awkwardly. “I’m afraid that Gladys and I have a confession to make.”

 

“A confession?”

 

“Yes,” Lady Gladys explains. “I’m afraid that we’ve invited you here with an ulterior motive, my dear.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Not that we aren’t delighted to have you here for your charm, beauty and obvious intelligence.” Sir John assures her with hands raised in defence.

 

“Yes.” Lady Gladys soothes in agreement with her husband. “As I said before, we’ve heard such great things about your interior designs, so you are under no obligation to agree to our request.”

 

Lettice suddenly looks about the room again, her eyes darting anxiously from surface to cluttered surface as she makes a calculated assumption. Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks pale. “You’re your request, La… Gladys?”

 

“Gladys my dear, you’ll scare the poor girl! She’ll think we want her to redecorate this old pile of stones from the cellar to the battlements.”

 

“Oh no!” Lady Gladys assures Lettice. “We don’t want you to redecorate our home! No, I have far too many treasures here to ever think of parting with. Good heavens no!”

 

“Then what?” Lettice asks cautiously.

 

“Well, it’s Pheobe.” Lady Gladys explains. “She’s moving to London. Now that she’s of age, she has decided to pursue a career in garden design, and she’s been accepted to a school in Regent’s Park associated to the Royal Academy, so she’ll be in London more often than she has been.”

 

Lettice looks on, puzzled and unsure as to how she can be of service to her hosts’ ward. “You want me to decorate her rooms in your London townhouse?”

 

“Oh no my dear!” Sir John defends. “Like here, our London house is very much an Arts and Crafts relic.”

 

“No. Pheobe’s father, my youngest brother Reginald, was part of the civil service in India before the war.” Lady Gladys continues. “He and Pheobe’s mother, Marjorie, died of cholera out there.”

 

“Oh, I am sorry.” Lettice says sadly, putting her hand to her chest.

 

“Thank you my dear. My brother bought a pied-à-terre**** in Bloomsbury for when they were in London.”

 

“Gladys actually lived in it when she worked as my secretary before she married me.” Sir John adds.

 

“Yes.” Lady Gladys acknowledges. “Anyway, when Reginald died, he bequeathed his pied-à-terre to his only surviving child, Pheobe. It was to be held in trust for her by us until she came of age. Now she is of age, we’re giving her the flat to live in. It will be more efficient, as when we go to London, we take staff from here, and when we aren’t in London, there is only a caretaker looking after the house. Pheobe can manage the flat without the need for any live-in staff, and she can finally have some independence from us, which I suspect she craves.”

 

“The flat hasn’t been redecorated since Reginal and Marjorie lived there.” Sir John adds.

 

“It’s so old fashioned.” Lady Gladys agrees. “It isn’t good for Pheobe to live in a flat surrounded by the ghosts of parents she hardly even knew. You’ll be sitting next to her at dinner tonight, and dear Nettie, who has some considerable sway with Pheobe. We’ve suggested that Pheobe talk to you herself. We’ll obviously foot any bills if she likes your ideas, which we’re quite sure she will. Will you consider it, my dear Lettice? It would be such a great favour to us, and to Pheobe of course.”

 

“Well, I’ll certainly consider it, Gladys.” Lettice replies.

 

“Splendid! Splendid!” Lady Gladys claps her hands in delight. “I knew you’d be open to the idea!”

 

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

 

**William Morris (24th of March 1834 – 3rd of October 1896) was a British textile designer, poet, artist, writer, and socialist activist associated with the British Arts and Crafts movement. He was a major contributor to the revival of traditional British textile arts and methods of production. His literary contributions helped to establish the modern fantasy genre, while he helped win acceptance of socialism in fin de siècle Great Britain. In 1861, Morris founded the Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. decorative arts firm with Burne-Jones, Rossetti, Webb, and others, which became highly fashionable and much in demand. The firm profoundly influenced interior decoration throughout the Victorian period, with Morris designing tapestries, wallpaper, fabrics, furniture, and stained glass windows. In 1875, he assumed total control of the company, which was renamed Morris & Co.

 

***The Fabian Society is a British socialist organisation whose purpose is to advance the principles of social democracy and democratic socialism via gradualist and reformist effort in democracies, rather than by revolutionary overthrow. The Fabian Society was also historically related to radicalism, a left-wing liberal tradition.

 

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

 

This very cluttered and overstuffed room may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items from my childhood, as well as those I have collected as an adult.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The Knole Sofa covered in William Morris’ ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern comes from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The cushions on it, and on the Savonarola chair opposite also feature the Morris ‘Strawberry Thief’ pattern in 1:12 size, and came from an American seller on E-Bay. The Savonarola chairs are made by high-end miniature furniture manufacturer JBM Miniatures.

 

The large embroidered footstool in front of the fireplace was made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq, but what is particularly special about it is that it has been covered in antique English floral micro petite point by V.H. Miniatures in the United Kingdom, which makes this a one-of-a-kind piece. The artisan who made this says that as one of her hobbies, she enjoys visiting old National Trust Houses in the hope of getting some inspiration to help her create new and exciting miniatures. She saw some beautiful petit point chairs a few years ago in one of the big houses in Derbyshire and then found exquisitely detailed petit point that was fine enough for 1:12 scale projects.

 

The small round footstool in front of Sir John’s Savonarola chair has been hand embroidered as well, and was acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the united Kingdom.

 

The silver tea and coffee set on the large embroidered footstool, consisting of milk jug, sugar bowl coffee pot and teapot come from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver tray upon which they stand also comes from Warwick Miniatures. The four dainty floral teacups with gilt edging scattered about the room are part of a larger tea set that I acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

 

The books on the table to the left of the photograph between the two Savonarola chairs are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. They are novels written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. These books are amongst the rarer exceptions that have been designed not to be opened. Nevertheless, the covers are copies of real Victorian bindings. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The wonderfully detailed red and white chess set in the foreground of the photograph came from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The set came in its own hand crafted compartmented wooden box with a working sliding lid which can be seen just in front of the Pig-a-Back and Ludo game boxes. The chess game is set up correctly with a match in progress. I wonder who will win? The table on which the chess game is being played comes from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, whilst the two red velvet seated chairs drawn up to it, I acquired from an auction some years ago. The pieces date from the 1970s and are very well made.

 

The box of Ludo and Pig-a-Back are both 1:12 artisan pieces, produced authentically to scale with great attention to detail by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.

 

Sir John and Lady Gladys’ family photos on the mantlepiece are all real photos, produced to high standards in 1:12 size on photographic paper by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire. The frames are from various suppliers, but all are metal. Only one, the larger square frame at the back, leaning against the tall blue vase on the left-hand side of the mantle is sterling silver. I t was made in Birmingham in 1908 and is hallmarked on the back of the frame. It has a red leather backing.

 

The two small vases of primroses on the mantle are delicate 1:12 artisan porcelain miniature ornaments made and painted by hand by ceramicist Ann Dalton.

 

The two dark blue double handled gilt vases with floral banding at either end of the mantlepiece, I have had since I was a child. I was given them as a birthday gift when I was nine.

 

The two tall blue glazed jugs featuring irises at either end of the fireplace came from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, as did the brown glazed jug on the tall pedestal in the corner of the room next to the bookcase.

 

The grey marble French barrel clock on the mantlepiece is a 1:12 artisan miniature made by Hall’s Miniature Clocks, supplied through Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniatures in England.

 

The Georgian style fireplace with its heavy wooden surround and deep mantle in the background was made by Town Hall Miniatures supplied through Melody Jane’s Dolls’ House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.

 

The glass fronted bookcase is a replica of a bookcase belonging to Abraham Lincoln and is part of the Lincoln Collection, made and distributed in America.

 

Lady Gladys’ book collection inside the glass fronted bookcase are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Ken Blythe was famous in miniature collectors’ circles mostly for the miniature books that he made: all being authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection. Each book is a 1:12 replica of a life sized volume with an authentic cover. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make these miniature artisan pieces. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago and through his estate courtesy of the generosity of his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.

 

The paintings hanging on the walls are all 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States. The wallpaper is William Morris’ ‘Poppies’ pattern, featuring stylised Art Nouveau poppies. William Morris papers and fabrics were popular in the late Victorian and early Edwardian period before the Great War.

 

The miniature Arts and Crafts rug on the floor is made by hand by Mackay and Gerrish in Sydney.

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 east of Cavendish Mews and South of the Thames, past Lambeth to what is known as "the Piccadilly Circus of South London" the busy shopping precinct of Elephant and Castle. It is here that Edith, Lettice’s maid, and her sweetheart, grocer’s boy, Frank Leadbetter, have come for a wander and window shop together. With Lettice still staying with her family at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, Edith has a little more free time than usual, so she and Frank are taking advantage of the opportunity to spend a little bit of extra time together. Edith also wants to visit Elephant and Castle because there are so many shops in close proximity of one another, and unlike many of the retailers north of the Thames, the prices of goods are cheaper. As she plans for a future with Frank, Edith now has her eye on household goods. Emerging from the Elephant and Castle Underground Railway Station, the young couple pass the grand domed and turreted edifice of the Elephant and Castle Estate Building* built of red brick with Portland stone dressings and granite columns, and slowly wander up Walworth Road, a busy thoroughfare congested in both directions with all forms of traffic. The road is lined with two and three storey Victorian terraces with shops all along the street level, many covered by canvas awnings, with red and white ‘blood and bandages’** pointed arches and bay windows on the floors above. The footpaths on both sides of the road are busy with chattering shoppers and browsers: couples like them, mothers and their children, well-to-do suburban housewives and gentlemen in overcoats and hats, all bustling and milling about, walking in and out of establishments and admiring the goods proudly on display in the shop windows.

 

As they walk along Walworth Road, dark clouds roil overhead, swirling about, obscuring the light and tumbling over themselves as the weather takes a turn for the worst.

 

“Looks like the weather is making a turn for the worst.” Frank remarks, looking up and squinting at the threatening sky overhead.

 

“Looks like you’re right!” Edith agrees, grabbing hold of the hem of her plum coloured skirt and black three-quarter length winter coat as a sudden gust of cold wind snatches them and whips at them. “A real storm is brewing.”

 

As Edith and Frank snuggle closer together as they walk along the footpath, hugging the shop windows and doorways they pass, they watch as people hurry along the pavement around them in either direction, their heads bowed down into their collars, or their trilbies and cloches pulled low over their heads to protect them from the wind as their hurried footsteps scurry along the slick paving stones already wettened by an earlier shower. Umbrellas start to appear at the ready in glove glad hands amidst the bags of shopping being carried. Newspapers and other light pieces of rubbish tumble and dance down the footpaths, gaily skipping past them or wheeling and diving amidst the traffic of the noisy thoroughfare skipping between chugging motor cars, lorries and the constant stream of double decker electrical trams and the occasional horse drawn cart with placid plodding old work horses unperturbed by the belching of their mechanical usurpers or the inclement weather.

 

As a large drop of rain strikes Edith’s shoulder, she unfurls her rather battered old black umbrella. “I don’t know if this will survive the storm, Frank.” she admits.

 

“Come on!” Frank hisses. “Let’s take shelter over there!” He points a little further along the Walworth Road to a white and russet striped awning hanging over a brightly illuminated window of a two storey Victorian building.

 

The pair dash along the footpath, joining the game of dodging other pedestrians until they reach their destination, just as a clap of thunder erupts noisily from above, the sound unleashing a torrent of rain. Edith gasps and draws closer to Frank as the heavy downpour hammers the paving stones, splashing off them and splattering Edith’s best pair of black kid cross strap shoes and tan toned stocking clad legs exposed from beneath the hem of her coat. The wind blows the ruffled edges of the awning, sending a shower of droplets hanging from its hem into the air, however in spite of that, the awning provides enough shelter for them to keep relatively dry.

 

A middle aged man in a camel coloured overcoat and white polka dot blue scarf taking shelter with them tips his trilby politely at Frank and Edith when they catch his eye. “Lovely weather for ducks.***” he remarks with a gentle smile.

 

“Yes indeed!” Frank agrees and Edith nods her consensus.

 

“I think this is one of the best places to be, if one must be caught out of doors in weather like this.” the middle aged man opines, to which both Edith and Frank nod in acknowledgement.

 

Not really wanting to engage in conversation with the gentleman, Edith turns away from him and looks through the window of the shop whose awning they are sheltering under, and to her delight, she discovers that it is a jewellery shop. “Oh look Frank!” she gasps.

 

Turning around to join her and observe what she has seen, Frank bears witness to the beautiful sight of the display through the plate glass window on which the name Schwar & Co**** is written in ornate gilt copperplate. Unlike the cold and grey day, the window exudes warmth as light from within is reflected off beautiful pieces of gold jewellery. Stands draped with golden chains and sautoirs***** jostle for space with pads of red and blue velvet upon which are pinned brooches and bracelets, whilst in others, jewel studded rings wink and glitter coquettishly. Edith gasps as she spies first an emerald ring surrounded by diamonds, then a sapphire and diamond one. She smiles with delight. Frank points out a beautiful silk lined Travel de Nécessaire****** commenting on its ornate gold and enamel lidded jars, whilst Edith indicates to a beautifully bevelled hand mirror and brush set.

 

“Just look at those diamonds!” Edith gasps as she spies a necklace of winking, brilliant stones draped along the black velvet lined shelf of the window.

 

“I wish I could buy it for you, Edith.” Frank remarks looking at it with eyes agog as it shimmers and sparkles against the black.

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith scoffs, her greyish purple glove clad left hand coming to rest on his lower right arm affectionately. “Where would I ever wear such a thing, even if you could afford it?”

 

“Buckingham Palace!” Frank booms, with a sweeping gesture, laughing good naturedly as he does. “You could wear it the next time the King and Queen invite you to tea.”

 

Edith’s girlish giggles join Frank’s bolder chortles as they laugh over the idea of Edith, a humble domestic, being entertained at Buckingham Palace by the imperious monarchs.

 

Frank’s eyes flit from a small brooch of gold set with pearls pinned to a lace fichu******* draped over a display stand to a small selection of brooches near the front of the window: the latter gold with either pearls or amethysts set in them.

 

“That looks like Prince Albert!” Edith remarks, pointing to a large profile of a serious man carved in white against a creamy dusky pink background set in an ornate gold frame.

 

Frank looks closely at it before stating, “I think it may be.”

 

“It’s beautifully carved.” Edith observes.

 

“I’d say it’s a large cameo******** carved from agate.”

 

“You’re so knowledgeable, Frank.” Edith remarks with a sigh of admiration. “How do you know all the things you do?”

 

“I read a lot, Edith. You know that! I want to better myself, and the best way to do that is to gain knowledge.” Frank says proudly. “So, I make sure I use what little free time I have, not spent with you, being well read. There’s an old saying you know – a little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing – which implies that people who are but a little informed could be dangerous and foolish, so I aim to make sure that I am more than a little informed.”

 

“I admire you for that, Frank.” Edith acknowledges her beau. “You read serious books and build up your knowledge.” She sighs with frustration. “Whereas all I seem to find the time or energy to read after a day’s hard graft are books about cooking or romance novels like those by Madeline St John.”

 

“Well, that’s good too, Edith!” Frank assures her.

 

“Not when you compare it to the things you read, and the things you know, Frank.”

 

“But as I’ve said before, Edith, we’re all good at different things, and you know how to make a cake, which is more than I know how to do! What could be more important than knowing how to feed people, Edith?” Frank says, pulling his sweetheart close to him by wrapping his right hand around her right forearm and embracing her comfortingly.

 

“Yes, but you know so many more important things, Frank: things about the world, like political and social ideas, which I know very little to nothing about. They’re more important than cake recipes, or how to mend a sagging hem.”

 

“There are plenty of politicians who think that what they say, and who they are, are important, Edith, but I can assure you that they aren’t.” Frank replies sagely.

 

“Oh, you know what I mean, Frank. I’m not very political. Not like you.” Edith remarks flippantly to Frank, yet at the same time she self-consciously toys with her blonde waves poking out from beneath her black dyed straw cloche as she speaks. “I mean, I know you’ve tried to teach me, but I can’t help it. I get confused between the parties and what they all stand for.”

 

“You aren’t alone in that, Edith.” Frank assures her. “Politicians are a breed of people who aim to bamboozle with their words.”

 

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that.” Edith admits.

 

“It doesn’t matter, Edith! You’re wonderful enough as you are, and there are things that you understand and are far better at than I’ll ever be. You might think that they are inconsequential, domestic things, but they aren’t! I’m no good to myself because I can’t cook. I have to rely on Mrs. Chapman, my landlady in Clapham to do that for me, and even if she serves me kippers, which I hate, I have to eat them, because I can’t make anything myself as an alternative. I’m lucky if I can boil the kettle for a good brew!” He chuckles light heartedly.

 

Edith chuckles along with him, feeling a little better about herself.

 

Frank looks his sweetheart earnestly in the eye. “One of the reasons why I’ve always admired you, Edith, is because you aren’t some silly giggling Gertie********* like some of the housemaids I’ve known in my time who live around Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico. You aren’t turned by just a handsome face, and your head isn’t filled with moving picture stars and nothing else.”

 

“Well, I do like moving picture stars too, Frank.” Edith confesses guiltily.

 

“Oh, I know you do, Edith, and I love you for that too.” Frank reassures her. “But it’s not all there is in there. You have a good head on your shoulders, and you’re wise for your years.” he acknowledges. “Your parents taught you well, and common sense is something a lot of people lack nowadays.”

 

“Oh thank you Frank.” Edith breathes softly, looking up lovingly into her beau’s face. “Then you aren’t ashamed of me then, just because I’m not the most political person?”

 

“I’ve said it before, but I’ll happily say it again,” Frank rubs Edith’s arm comfortingly. “Of course I’m not ashamed of you Edith, in any way! How could I ever be ashamed of you? I’m as proud as punch********** to step out with you! You’re my best girl.”

 

“Oh Frank!” Edith wraps her arms loving around Frank’s waist.

 

“I only wish I could afford to buy you a nice brooch like that.” He nods at an ornate gold brooch set with a single amethyst. “Purple is your colour.”

 

“You don’t have to buy me a brooch, Frank!” Edith insists in reply.

 

“I know, but I’d like to buy you one all the same. It will last longer than a box of Gainsborough Dubarry Milk Chocolates.”

 

“Mmmm,” Edith smiles and murmurs, “I like them too.”

 

“Yes, but a pretty brooch would look so nice,” Frank breaks their embrace and holds his sweetheart at arm’s length. He picks up the corner of her left coat lapel. “Pinned here for all the world to see that Frank Leadbetter loves Edith Watsford. It’s quite fashionable to wear brooches these days.”

 

“You are well informed, Frank.” Edith laughs in surprise. “And you’re right, but really, all I need is one of those on my finger on our wedding day.” She glances back into the jeweller’s window and nods at a pad of shiny gold wedding bands gleaming in the warm light cast from the lights at the top of the window.

 

“And you’ll get it, Edith,” Frank pauses. “In due course.”

 

“And when is that going to be?” Edith asks, looking seriously into her beau’s face, trying to read his expression as it causes his face to crumple.

 

“Well… well… when the time is right, Edith.”

 

“Isn’t now the right time, Frank?” she asks.

 

“Well… well of course… it could be.” Frank stammers.

 

“Could be, Frank?” Edith shudders as she feels someone walk over her grave***********. “What… is that supposed to mean?”

 

“I just mean I want the timing to be right when I ask you to marry me, Edith. That’s all.”

 

Edith doesn’t say anything straight away, but finally she gazes up at Frank and asks a little fearfully, “You do want to marry me, don’t you Frank?”

 

The question makes Frank feel like he has been punched in the stomach.

 

“Now what kind of a question is that, Edith?” He looks at Edith and sees her face drain of colour as the unshed tears welling in her eyes add a sparkle and glisten to them. “Of course I want to marry you!”

 

“Well, we’ve been stepping out for a while now, Frank, and you still haven’t asked me to marry you.”

 

“Well, I haven’t spoken to your dad yet, and asked his permission for your hand, Edith. First thing’s first you know!”

 

“I know you haven’t!” The tears that have been threatening to spill finally start: one large drop falls off her lash and lands on her left cheek, only to then be matched by one on her right.

 

“I’m just getting up the courage to ask, is all, Edith.”

 

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t ask him now. All that business with me agreeing to move to Metroland************ if you are offered an opportunity to manage a suburban grocers is done now. I’ve agreed, so I don’t see why you can’t ask. I know both Mum and Dad were a little disappointed that you didn’t ask them when you came to our New Year’s Eve party in Harlesden.”

 

“And you obviously were too.” Frank concludes Edith’s unspoken conclusion to the sentence.

 

When Edith nods shallowly, he sighs.

 

“I’m sorry Edith. I don’t mean to upset my best girl, and I know this must be difficult for you to understand, but I’m a man of principles. I want to ask your dad for your hand when I think I look most favourable.”

 

“But that time is now, Frank!” Edith retorts.

 

“Not for me it isn’t, or not just yet at least. I just want my prospects to look good enough to show that I can provide for you and be a good husband.”

 

“But they do, Frank, and you will be a good husband. Dad is very pleased with what you are doing to improve your situation at Mr. Willison’s Grocery, and even Mum is slowly coming around to your ideas of wanting to improve your lot in life. They both know that like them, you want the best for me. When will you ask them?”

 

“Soon.” Frank assures her. “But just not quite yet.”

 

“I think I need one of those clairvoyants I see adverting discreetly in the newspapers.” Edith mutters as she opens her slightly battered green leather handback and fossicks around inside it, huffing and puffing as she does. “They’ll give me the answers I seek.”

 

“No you don’t, Edith!” Frank holds her at arm’s length again whilst she dabs at her eyes with the embroidered lace handkerchief she has pulled out.

 

“You’re dragging your feet, Frank.” she snivels

 

“No I’m not, Edith. Please!”

 

“And I don’t see why. I know you want us both to save a little more money, so that we can set up house together, but just because we announce we are engaged, doesn’t mean we have to get married straight away.”

 

“Perhaps not,” Frank agrees. “But once the cat is out of the bag, well, there is always pressure put on the young couple to set a date.” He looks at her seriously. “Long engagements are not very fashionable, even when they are for all the right reasons.”

 

“Well,” Edith dabs her reddened nose. “Just don’t wait too long, Frank.”

 

“I won’t!” he assures her. “I promise. I don’t want us to quarrel over this.”

 

“Oh I don’t want to quarrel, Frank!” Edith concurs. “I’m just concerned is all.”

 

“Well you have no need to be, Edith. You’re my best girl, and eventually you will be my best bride.” He smiles broadly, albeit a little remorsefully, feeling bad for putting Edith in the position where she feels so upset about sometjing that should fill her with happiness. “I promise I will ask your dad the moment the time feels right to me.” He turns around and notices that the rain has stopped, with only showers of drips being blown from the ruffled awning edge by the wind now. They now stand alone together beneath the awning, with the man in the camel coat gone whilst they have been talking. “Look, Edith! It’s stopped raining. What’s say we go back to Lyon’s Corner House************* at the top of Tottenham Court Road for a slap up tea?” Edith manages to smile, and like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a storm, it makes Frank glad. “I might not be able to afford a gold and amethyst brooch for you just yet, but I can at least afford that now.”

 

“Alright Frank.” Edith acquiesces with a sniff. “Let’s do that.”

 

*The Elephant and Castle Estate Building was a local landmark in the London suburb of Elephant and Castle between its construction in 1898 and when it was damaged and had to be demolished during the Blitz of the Second World War. The block of buildings was designed to cover the site of the Elephant and Castle Hotel, together with the shops adjoining. The estate formed an island amidst the busy junction of major thoroughfares, and was well known in a very conspicuous position, the headway facing the north, and having a frontage to Newington Butts and Walworth Road. The Elephant and Castle Estate Building contained a hotel. Th ground floor of the hotel was divided into a saloon, luncheon, private and public bars, and the basement had a three-table billiard-room and cellarage accommodation. On the first floor were a double table billiard-room and large dining room, whilst on the second and third floors, fourteen bedrooms and two large sitting-rooms, and on the top floor kitchen and domestic offices and four bedrooms. The rest of the large and conspicuous building was occupied by nine lock-up shops on the ground floor, with basements. The first floor was approached by a fireproof staircase from Newington Butts, and was designed for three suites of offices. The three upper floors had a fireproof staircase, approached from Walworth-road, and allowed for eight separate suites of residential flats. The building was badly damaged by bombs during the war, along with much of the area around it, and in 1965 the new Elephant and Castle Shopping Centre opened on the site.

 

**”Blood and Bandages” is an architectural style that was popular before the First World War where buildings are constructed of layers of red brick with intervening white stone dressings. Normally Portland Stone is used for the “bandages”, but in some cases white plaster rendering or tiling was popular. The rather macabre description of the late Victorian style came about as a result of people comparing the striped red and white of the buildings to the blood and bandages seen so commonly during the First World War.

 

***The expression “lovely weather for ducks” appears to have been in use from the first half of the 19th century. Given its humorous usage it may just be derived from a common reference to the common sight of ducks at ease in the rain.

 

****Established in 1838 by Andreas Schwar who was a clock and watch maker from Baden in Germany, Schwar and Company on Walworth Road in Elephant and Castle was a watchmaker and jewellers that is still a stalwart of the area today. The shop still retains its original Victorian shopfront with its rounded plate glass windows.

 

*****A sautoir is a long necklace consisting of a fine gold chain and typically set with jewels.

 

******A Travel de Nécessaire is an old fashioned style of travelling case. Designed for both men and women they contained necessary toiletry items like brushes, mirrors, button hooks, perfume and eau de cologne bottles, and jars for cosmetics. More elaborate ones could contain such items as travelling sewing kits, notepads, ink bottles, match vestas, hair pin tubes and much more, sometimes consisting of hundreds of items.

 

*******A fichu (from the French for "thrown over") is a large, square kerchief worn by women to fill in the low neckline of a bodice. It originated in the United Kingdom in the Eighteenth Century and remained popular there and in France through the Nineteenth Century with many variations, as well as in the United States. The fichu was generally of linen fabric or fine lace and was folded diagonally into a triangle and tied, pinned, or tucked into the bodice in front. A fichu is sometimes used with a brooch to conceal the closure of a décolleté neckline. The fichu can thus be fastened in the front, or crossed over the chest.

 

********A cameo is a material that is carved with a raised relief that often depicts a profile of a face or a mythical scene. Cameos are commonly made out of shell, coral, stone, lava, or glass. Cameo jewellery has varying quality factors including the intricacy of the carving to the quality of the setting.

 

*********Although obscure as to its origin, the term “giggling Gertie” is of English derivation and was often used in a derisive way to describe silly children and young people, usually girls, who were deemed as being flippant and foolish.

 

**********Although today we tend to say as “pleased as punch”, the Victorian term which carried on through into the Edwardian era when our story is set, actually began as “proud as punch”. This expression refers to the Punch and Judy puppet character. Punch's name comes from Punchinello, an Italian puppet with similar characteristics. In Punch and Judy shows, the grotesque Punch is portrayed as self-satisfied and pleased with his evil actions.

 

***********If you suddenly shudder or shiver, for no apparent reason, it is still likely that you will say that 'someone has just walked over your grave', meaning, of course, the site of your future grave. The first known written evidence for this notion is in Jonathan Swift's Polite Conversation from 1738.

 

************Metroland is a name given to the suburban areas that were built to the north-west of London in the counties of Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire and Middlesex in the early part of the Twentieth Century that were served by the Metropolitan Railway. The railway company was in the privileged position of being allowed to retain surplus land; from 1919 this was developed for housing by the nominally independent Metropolitan Railway Country Estates Limited (MRCE). The term "Metroland" was coined by the Met's marketing department in 1915 when the Guide to the Extension Line became the Metro-land guide. It promoted a dream of a modern home in beautiful countryside with a fast railway service to central London until the Met was absorbed into the London Passenger Transport Board in 1933.

 

*************J. Lyons and Co. was a British restaurant chain, food manufacturing, and hotel conglomerate founded in 1884 by Joseph Lyons and his brothers in law, Isidore and Montague Gluckstein. Lyons’ first teashop opened in Piccadilly in 1894, and from 1909 they developed into a chain of teashops, with the firm becoming a staple of the High Street in the United Kingdom. At its peak the chain numbered around two hundred cafes. The teashops provided for tea and coffee, with food choices consisting of hot dishes and sweets, cold dishes and sweets, and buns, cakes and rolls. Lyons' Corner Houses, which first appeared in 1909 and remained until 1977, were noted for their Art Deco style. Situated on or near the corners of Coventry Street, Strand and Tottenham Court Road, they and the Maison Lyonses at Marble Arch and in Shaftesbury Avenue were large buildings on four or five floors, the ground floor of which was a food hall with counters for delicatessen, sweets and chocolates, cakes, fruit, flowers and other products. In addition, they possessed hairdressing salons, telephone booths, theatre booking agencies and at one period a twice-a-day food delivery service. On the other floors were several restaurants, each with a different theme and all with their own musicians. For a time, the Corner Houses were open twenty-four hours a day, and at their peak each branch employed around four hundred staff including their famous waitresses, commonly known as Nippies for the way they nipped in and out between the tables taking orders and serving meals. The tea houses featured window displays, and, in the post-war period, the Corner Houses were smarter and grander than the local tea shops. Between 1896 and 1965 Lyons owned the Trocadero, which was similar in size and style to the Corner Houses.

 

This beautiful shop window display may look real to you, however, almost everything in this scene is made up with 1:12 size miniatures from my miniatures collection, except for a few select items that just happen to fit in perfectly amongst them!

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau:

 

Central to our story, the pad of “Weekend Wedding Rings” is a small artisan piece made by an unknown artist which I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The bras stand with the linen fichu from which the blue necklace hangs also comes from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop. The gold chain featuring five pointed stars which also hangs from it is one of three pieces of real jewellery I have in this tableau. It is a dainty baby’s bracelet made of nine carat gold that was mine when I was a baby. I still possess it after all these years!

 

The Victorian cameo of Prince Albert’s profile is a second piece of real jewellery and has only recently been acquired by me. Made in 1862 of shell and set in an ornate gold frame, this tiny cameo is only two centimetres in length, yet it is superbly and intricately carved with his undeniable likeness. This cameo would have been in the top range for its fine details considering its size.

 

The wooden tree of gold chains standing behind the wedding rings came from Melody Jane’s Dolls’ House Suppliers in the United Kingdom. All the chains are stuck in place along the arms of the tree.

 

Draped to the right of the cameo is a sparking “diamond” necklace made of tiny strung faceted silver beads. It, the tiny blue bead necklace hanging from the fichu in the background and the three brooches in the foreground in front of the wedding rings and cameo I acquired as part of an artisan jewellery box from a specialist doll house supplier when I was a teenager. Amongst the smallest pieces I have in my collection, the gold and pearl and gold and amethyst brooches, it is really quite amazing that they have not become lost during the many moves I have made over the passing years since I originally bought them.

 

The Christmas I was ten, I was given the Regency dressing table and a three piece gilt pewter dressing table set consisting of comb, hairbrush and hand mirror, the latter featuring a real piece of mirror set into it. The mirror and hairbrush you can see in the bottom right-hand corner of the photograph. Like the necklaces and brooches, these small pieces have survived the tests of time and never been lost, even though they are tiny.

 

On the left-hand side of the display, in the background, is a glittering Travel de Nécessaire (travelling case), which is hinged, has an inlaid top and is lined with red velvet. It contains an array of beauty aides any Edwardian woman, or her lady’s maid, would have used including curling tongs (which look like scissors), various perfume bottles, pill boxes and cosmetic jars and a shoe horn as well as a sizable mirror. It has been made by an unknown English artisan. The tiered wooden jewellery box, complete with miniature jewellery, to the right-hand side of the photo in the background, I acquired from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.

 

The small gold lozenge with a leaf motif upon it that you can see in the bottom left-hand corner of the photo is the third and final piece of real jewellery in the tableau. It is a small antique locket of rose gold set with seed pearls (which you cannot see in this shot). Coming from Paris, it was made for me by a jeweller as a birthday gift from some very dear friends.

 

The white lace in the far background is a piece of real antique lace which has been hand made and came to me from a collector of haberdashery in Dorset.

Sleeper-cabbed ERF B series TBC620X laid-up since retirement