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As a lifelong fan and devotee to the music of Queen, Gareth Hill had dreamed of playing the part of Freddie in a live show, ever since his untimely and premature death nearly 20 years earlier. It was with great trepidation that he approached this concept, knowing that a less than stellar representation of Queen's magic would not be acceptable. It had to be brilliant!
The Australian Queen Tribute Show was formed in 2006. After a few line up changes, hundreds of rehearsals and countless hours of planning & preparation, the band was finally ready in late 2008. And the results were simply spectacular!
With absolutely no reliance on backing tracks, with all songs in the original keys and with a stage show that brings the brilliance and magic of Queen alive like no other, The Australian Queen Tribute Show are simply the best sounding, best looking and most technically accurate Queen Tribute anywhere.
The formula is simple. Sound like Queen, perform like Queen, look like Queen and have a hell of a lot of fun doing it!
Over the last 2 years the band has toured the breadth & width of Australia, bringing the magic of Queen to dozens of country areas and racking up countless kilometres!! The plan over the next 2 years is to bring the show to all capital cities and to many regional areas that would otherwise not have the opportunity of seeing such a great show. So stay tuned, we're coming to YOU!!
Gareth Hill as Freddie Mercury has to be seen to be believed. His mind blowing 'Freddie Like' vocal range, stage antics and amazing likeness for Freddie Mercury are a sight and sound to behold!
Scotty Hotpants as the inimitable Brian May replicates the licks of Brian with such accuracy that even die-hard fans are left amazed! The trusty Red Special by his side, Vox AC30 amp to pump out that huge sound, curly mop to match and a lanky stature to boot, you'll have to look (and listen) twice… Trust me!
The ever reliable bass player of the band is played by Darryn McLaughlin… Let's just say that the staid and sensible John Deacon is played to perfection.
Queen's drummer, Roger Taylor had a style which cannot be mistaken and Brad Hodge as Mr Taylor doesn't miss a beat… With a replica of the Wembley '86 drumkit, the blond locks, Raybans and attitude to go with all of that, it's 'almost' Roger Taylor in the flesh!!
So if it's Queen you want? It's Queen you can have!!!
Check out the Gig Guide and come see The Australian Queen Tribute Show for an experience that you'll never forget!
Sometimes things just seem so hard. But with our two wonderful muses and the help of the group my struggles with the Voice assignment finally led to discovery. I discovered my voice! I needed to put together my CV and then while thinking about voices in photography it dawned on me that my voice had been staring at me for years. Or I had been staring at it. I have this picture in our bathroom so I see it every day. But after all this work I realized what it was telling me. Sometimes you have to hit me over the head a few times. :)
My voice is the voice of reflection. With it I try to show what we often don't or can't or aren't used to seeing. I am a light microscopist by trade. I use the light microscope to show students how organs are put together. But what I have realized after 40 years is that the reason I like it is it allows me to enjoy light, reflection and color to see the world. And largely to see an unknown, abstract, and slightly of kilter world.
So now I know I am drawn to reflected images whether the reflections are off glass or water. Colors mean much to me and reflected color is even more powerful. One of my favorite images is one that Kim has shared. It is her flowers reflected off a pond. Abby shared her blue frosted window. It is also why I have always like impressionist art.
Knowing my voice will be a tremendous help. I now know what I want to photograph. I admire Dan's street scenes but now realize it is not my genre. Frank Smith is a wonderful naturalist photographer who takes great photographs. Now I know why they are not my passion.
This has been a wonderful exercise and as we continue I hope to delve further into this new revelation.
August 13
It might take some time to process all what we did today. A 13 hour car drive arriving at Yellowstone as it was getting dark, hoping that the reservation was still good.
Anyway, thanks to our old friend jet lag, I was awake at four. Jools had been awoken at half twelve by the sound of the whistle of a passing freight train as it crossed the level crossing two blocks away. And as we lay in bed waiting for dawn to come, we heard another train approach and pass.
by half six, we were showered, dressed and packed, and ready to start the day, a day which would be mostly a 12 hour car trip into and across Wyoming. Me saying ten months back that we could fly in there, drive somewhere else in less than a day and so on was on the basis of not knowing how big Wyoming is. I mean the atlas we have for it is as big and comprehensive as one for Britain.
So, 535 miles according to the sat nav, and what we would see; who knew?
We did not have breakfast in the hotel, we could have but that would have meant making our choices the night before, and who really know what they want to eat 12 hours in advance. But the one thing we could be sure of is there would be no shortage of places to have breakfast on the way, at least in the first hour on our way to Chayanne. I mean tthat there is a western name if ever there is one, and that is on the way to Laramie, and that is even more western.
We load the car and drop the roof, but on the way out of Fort Collins it was choilly, and on the interstate it would be colder and breezier still, so we stop to put the roof up, just beside a university campus, a nice looking place I have to say, as was Fort Collins, leafy and mostly unspoilt with just the centre being strip malls and parking lots.
Onto the interstate and up to just before we were to turn off, and we roll into an Dennys. Where are you from, what is that accent? Blah blah, and so on. I have been to Englan, I went to Liverpool, met this guy, Bob, do you know him?
Anyway, we order breakfast, which comes on two plates each. This is crazy. BUt it is also good, and we eat most of it, whilst listening to the guy on the next table, complain, whilst breathing poure oxygen through a tube, that Obamacare needs to be repealed and that all the trouble in the US is the Democtats fault. I listen and try not to laugh, but they moved onto the eclipse and the fact people might come from out of state to see it.
If only they knew.
We leave, and with Jools driving we strike out west, along another interstate, 80 I think, making for the line of mountains on the horizon, but never quite getting to them.
Readers, America is big. Vast in fact, and we drove for hours and hours, the countryside turned into rolling prarie, hour after hour we went along, passing weather butes of rock, rolling praried and grassland. Fiver hours to go. Four hours to go.
And we were running out of gas.
Places on the map saying they were cities, yes, I’m talking about you, Jeffory City, we nothing more than a collection of shacks and tumbledown buildings. We had less than 50 miles of gas when we arrived in Riverton. We stop at the first gas station, and despite having had two breakfasts four hours back, we have lunch. A salad followed by a sandwich. Another two plates.
But again, everyone is so darned nice, real nice. I tip them.
And we are off again, along hour after hour of identical countryside, but also stunning at the same time. Rolling parie lands, rugged butes of rock, fertile river vallies. The afternoon grew old. We pass through a narrow gorge which the river shared with a rad and railroad.
We had passed a mile long freight train a few miles back, s waited at two spots to snap it. At the second we discover a wealth of wildlife, four butterfly species, katydids and wasps and bees. I get shots of them and the train and so am very happy indeed.
Just out of the valley, at Thermolopolis or something, the weather closes in, and clouds drop down and day is turned itno night, and all the wile the landscapes gets ever more larger and dramatic.
We have to pass through where we will be staying from Sunday, Cody Wyoming, named after Buffalo Bill Cody. So its Buffalo Bill this and that including a museum. We shall have two full days to explore Cody. Well, one day and then there is the matter of the eclipse of course.
We are within two hours of our cabin, but have to climb over a mountain. A place called, I kid ye not, Dead Indian mountain. Up and up we go, clouds part and dramatic rock formations are revelealed, under a rainbow. Under a double rainbow. And then once we had reached the top of the pass, there was a ten mile descent that would have given Le Tour riders trouble. From the top we could see to the start of Yellowstone, and the road coiled up below like a hose.
Final push now, into Montanna,. Past a lively town with many bars and cowbiy themed places. I think this will become a trend. As will “boot barns”. Montana doesn’t look that different from Wyoming, other than the town with the bars all done out to look all western like.
The rain sets in, hammering down and making the car think its night, so dimming all the lights in the car.
And at quarter past six, eleven and one half hours afrer setting off, we arrive at the gate to Yellowstone.
That’ll be $30.
But have a map.
The landscape had been dramatic before, and I wish I had shots, but the clouds tuened day into night again, and they would have been rubbish. So, take my word for it, huge mountains, trees, valleys and rivers.
We came to a jam, a jam caused by bison. I mean, when you weigh a ton or more, you should be able to stop traffic. The alpha male waks beween the lines of cars, grunting, while all around his hareem eats or rests.
And then there is the hour hour drive round the park to Mamoth, and hopefully where our roo, or cabin, is waiting.
We see no bears, but in Mammoth Falls we see an elk. Or a carbou, not sure which, but it is eating the manicured lawn in front of the hotel. But we are staying in a cabin out back. Jools pays and get the keys, so we can relax.
I walk to the store to buy some beers and stuff, return to each Ritz Crackers with cheese from a can, because we can.
Outsie we sit on the stoop, eating and drinking, whilst Swifts wheel and spin hunting for food, as we look on. Some Italian tourists arrive and don’t look to happy, but we are. Even with out wifi, a TV. It all we need., we drink and eat, and tiredness overcomes us.
Time for bed (mountain time).
Lauren Weisberger
Everyone Worth Knowing
First published in: 2005
This edition: Downtown Press, 2006
ISBN: 978-0-7432-6233-0
Genre: chick lit
Pages: 367
Cover design by Evan Gaffney
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Before I got my wisdom teeth removed last month, I already figured I'd be useless, simply curled up on the sofa, with blankets and pillows, stuffing my chipmunk cheeked face with painkillers and custard, wishing I could simply go to sleep and wake up a week later, healed up and sans agony. Reading the day away was the next best thing. So that's what I did. My book of choice was EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING by Lauren Weisberger (followed by LAST CHANCE SALOON by Marian Keyes – to be reviewed later). A light and uplifting read, perfect for someone who had the attention span of a gnat due to discomfort, pain and hunger.
Bette Robinson's job is, well, it's just terrible. Working as a banker is hardly what she imagined herself to be doing when grown up. In an a-typical impulsive moment, Bette decides to quit, and discovers funemployment – the fun of which doesn't usually last long. One can only walk her dog so many times before realizing something needs to change. Luckily, thanks to her uncle, Bette scores a job working for Kelly, who owns one of Manhattan's top PR firms, and gets a taste of the life: parties, nightclubs, celebrities… and being the subject of nasty gossip columns.
The premise sounds pretty typical – young single girl in Manhattan working way up the career ladder while living the life of exclusivity, getting herself (manipulated) into crazy situations. I'm personally growing pretty weary of Manhattan as the back drop for so many of these kinds of books and having the importance of "being someone in New York (and only New York)" stressed all the time.
…there are many similarities to THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, another of Weisberger's books, but I somehow still feel EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a tad bit better (and I'm going to be in the minority here) because it seems more successfully satirical.
It's been three years since I've read THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA, so I've been racking my brain trying to describe the reason why, but I can't remember feeling as enthusiastic about it as I do with EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING.
In DEVIL, which – as I understand it – is supposed to take a harder stand against "that world" (being based on Anna Wintour and Vogue all), too many names are dropped and brands are mentioned – e.g. product placement – which left me feeling upon finishing that DEVIL is, if anything, one big advertisement. EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a little less extreme in defaming the Manhattan elite, and also less extreme in namedropping. It doesn't try so hard either way.
Albeit less than in DEVIL, Lauren Weisberger still plays for both teams somewhat in EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING: what does she want (from us)? To love Manhattan's elite, or hate it? To have it be relevant, or not?
Are we, readers, meant to be in awe at all the celebrities and exclusivity… or have any disgust with the material world justified? Most likely both – Weisberger to me seems to want to please everybody without really taking a clear stand. (I ended my review of DEVIL: "Lauren Weisberger, Choo's your alliance." – I still feel this way.)
Bette for instance has never before heard of a Birkin Bag. I live in a hole in The Netherlands and while I like bags, I don't really give a crap about labels. Even I know what a Birkin Bag is. Then again, several pages later Bette flawlessly describes one man's entire outfit, including his "men's latest orange Pumas".
I would have perhaps been less hard on the author if Bette really knew zilch about Birkin Bags AND orange puma's AND Armani dresses. This was my main problem with DEVIL. The heroine is supposed to be sort of an antagonist against the material world, yet it is made too relevant – it's Prada this, Blahnik that.
It's inconsistent, but consistently so – not 1, but 2 of Weisberger's books have left me feeling this way.
Weisberger's none too kind about Kelly or her employees, having them drink too much, snort whatever can be snorted up their noses and making sure the (fictional) celeb is a complete tool. But they live the life, and Weisberger does glam it up. What's a banker compared to someone in PR, after all?
What makes EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING worth reading is Bette: she helps to make the book more likable. Bette is one of the most lovely characters I've ever "met" in the chick lit genre. She is like a breath of fresh air to me: very sympathetic and sensible enough, swept away in Manhattan's society but never losing herself in it. Bette doesn't sell out, much preferring her beloved Harlequin book club as opposed to hanging out with slimy celebrities.
Yes, Bette lacks initiative and a back bone, but I don't seek a perfect heroine and couldn't help but adore her, which is very important when reading chick lit – for me anyway. I only read the first part of the SHOPAHOLIC series and felt no need to continue it, mostly because Rebecca Bloomwood frustrated me too much.
Bette is in ways someone I can relate to, despite so many life differences. I think her personality just speaks to me.
The sub-story about her friendships with Penelope and Michael is poor though; Penelope's sub-story seems like predictable filler, and Michael fades away into the background.
One point of irritation regards the gay uncle, whose abundant use of "darling" bothers me to no end; it's like he is channeling the ladies of "Absolutely Fabulous", and doing it badly. Add to that his die-hard republican-ism and I can't help but to shout "SERIOUSLY?!" and shake my head.
But the most important sub-story is sweet and successful: there's a lot of chemistry between Bette and her love interest, their story nicely developed. Definitely swoon material, which is also very important for chick lit. Perhaps – together with a likable narrator – even more than an author taking a clear stand.
I just can't help but to think like a critic more and more. Three years of book reviewing has altered the way I read books: while I can enjoy a book for what it is, I do mentally note the best and worst about it. I think about every book and ask myself questions. So this review will probably come across as very critical.
But ask me the question, "did you enjoy reading it?" – I'll answer, yes. Because I really did. Despite the inconsistencies, despite my questioning Weisberger's satirical merits, EVERYONE WORTH KNOWING is a perfectly pleasant read. Dental work or not.
© 2010
Not knowing the truth doesn't make you ignorant
not wanting to know the truth is what makes you ignorant.
Knowing that she loves koi, Anne gave Mary a koi fish statue for Mother's Day, thinking that she could put it in the garden without necessarily hooking it up to a water source.
But one thing leads to another, and little did Anne realize what she had started when she bought the statue. Mary thought that since it was meant to spit water she should get a small pond for it to spit into. And of course, if you've got a pond, you need fish. And if you've got fish, you need to have a waterfall to aerate the water. And if you've got a waterfall, you should have a stream to go with it. But since you don't want the waterfall to look as if the water is coming from the middle of nowhere, you need to extend a false stream bed up the hill behind the waterfall. And if you've got a stream bed, then of course you need a footbridge to cross it. And once you've taken care of all that, you need a discrete lighting system to tastefully illuminate it a night.
So . . . guess who volunteered to do all the landscaping in the summer heat and have it done in time for it to be a surprise before our daughter Kelly and granddaughter Teagan come to visit at the end of July.
MOTORCYCLE BANDIT . NOT KNOWING ABOUT MOTORCYCLES I THINK IT MIGHT BE A KAWASAKI OR MABE A SUZUKI AT DANYMS HALL CAR AND MOTORCYCLE SHOW IN AN EAST LONDON BOROUGH SUBURB STREET VENUE ENGLAND DSCN0171 C C
Caroline flew back to Hawaii out of Oakland this time because the ticket was a lot cheaper than flying out of Sacramento. Elizabeth and I drove her to the airport and then did something I've wanted to do for years, visit the USS Hornet Museum in Alameda, a short distance from the Oakland airport.
We were not sure what all we would see other than knowing the Hornet is a WW2 vintage, Essex class aircraft carrier that was used to recover the Apollo 11 and 12 capsules after their moon missions. We had no idea if we'd see everthing there was to see in a couple of hours, or, if, as it turned out, we'd spend the whole day there and still not see everything.
The Hornet is one of 24 Essex class carriers that the US built between 1941 and 1945, although the Essex was not launched until mid-1942, the design work for the class had started in 1940, before the US was at war. The Hornet was launched in 1943 and served during WW2, Korea and Vietnam, as well as its role in the space program.
We took docent led tours of the fore part of the ship, which incleded the auxilary control room in the bow just under the flight deck (the portholes you can see under the front of the flight deck are for the control room) and another of the forward engine room.
The Hornet has 4 steam turbine engines in two engine rooms, increasing the ship's survivability if one engine room was damaged. In the event all 24 Essex class carriers survived the war, despite some suffering heavy damage. Hornet was never hit by enemy bombs or torpedoes. After WW2, it was fittled with an angled flight deck to allow simultaneous take offs and landings, and catapults were installed to launch jets. The ship's last role was anti-submarine warfare, accounting for its designation as CVS-12 at the end.
The ship has several planes and helicopters on display. There is also a mockup of a Gemini capsule and an early Apollo capsule on display, as well as one of the mobile isolation units, an Airstream trailer used to house astronauts after the Apollo 11, 12 and 14 moon missions to be sure that no bugs that lived in the vacuum of the moon were brought back to earth.
Displays include tributes to the other Essex class carriers, women in the Navy (featurning information about Adm. Grace Hopper, who led the team that developed COBOL), and the history of Naval aviation. An exhibit at near the stern discusses the internment of Japanese Americans during WW2 and the exploits of Army units formed of Japanese American soldiers. The 442nd Infantry regiment was the most highly decorated US regiment of WW2.
The day started hazy with San Francicso across the bay hidden in the mist. We got to the Hornet's dock before the ship opened and while we sat on the dock of the bay with an Otis Redding song playing in my head, Caroline's plane flew over us after taking off from Oakland airport. Eventually, the fog burned away allowing a nice view of SF across the water.
At one point, we blundered into an area of the ship that was not supposed to be open and encountered a guard who, after realizing that HE had left the chain off the stairway, showed us the captain and admiral's in port quarters. The admiral's room was where President Nixon slept when he was on the Hornet to greet the Apollo 11 astronauts. We also saw dorms where enlisted sailors slept in 3 tier bunks, a dorm for junior ship's officers with 2 tier bunks and nicer rooms for pilots and more senior officers. We never did make it up to the bridge in the ship's island because by the time we got up to the flght deck after poking aroudn below decks all day, the last tour of the island had already left.
Well, I guess we'll just have to go back some time!
Knowing Aravaipa Canyon history, I see the Canyon a little differently than many people. Aravaipa Canyon is a series of canyons with a large watershed. On August 1, 2006 torrential rains caused record flooding through the canyon. Vegetation was scoured along the creek. Canyon walls were swept clean to unbelievable heights.
As I looked at this wall I realized that it had been swept clean in 2006. But this little barrel cactus and young saguaro had established new precarious holds. Life finds a way. The canyon encourages life. And I think I see a little hedgehog cactus starting to peek out.
"We have earned enough memories, stored enough mental emotional images in our heads, from one brief day in Aravaipa Canyon, to enrich the urban days to come. As Henry David Thoreau found a universe in the woods around Concord, any individual whose senses are alive can make a world of any natural place, however limited it might seem, on this subtle planet of ours." Edward Abbey, from Down the River (with Henry)
www.nytimes.com/1982/01/03/travel/in-the-land-of-laughing...
'The world is big, it is comprehensible,'' says R. Buckminster Fuller. But it seems to me that the world is not nearly big enough and any portion of its surface, left unpaved and alive, is infinitely rich in details and relationships, in wonder, beauty, mystery, comprehensible only in part. The very existence of existence is itself suggestive of the unknown - not a problem but a mystery. We will never get to the end of it, never plumb the bottom of it, never know the whole of even so small and trivial and useless and precious a place as Aravaipa. Therein lies our redemption." Edward Abbey
Aravaipa Canyon 2023
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This Group has Mood, TGHM,
Credits: Layered template (Journal Or Not, Template 2) by Scrapping With Liz and My Story May by Jen C Designs. Font is DJB Baby Bump by Darcy Baldwin.
Journalling reads: Dear Nan, it’s been 3 months since we lost you and to be honest I am still finding it hard. I’m avoiding visiting Mum and the kids, because I know I wouldn’t be able to resist walking past your house and knowing that someone else is probably already living in it breaks my heart. Going there to hand over your mobility aids was something I had been dreading because it would have been the final acknowledgement that you didn’t need them anymore. But seeing builders in your house and not one person even having the decency to tell me the keys had been handed back, made me feel so very sad and angry. I hate him for that you know, and I will never forgive him for not even caring enough to send a text message. Some days are definitely harder than others, the worst ones are filled with random outbursts of tears. Mainly because I feel like everyone else has just moved on with their lives and gone back to acting normal, but sometimes just because I miss you so very much. I still can’t bring myself to delete your mobile number from my phone, so it’s still at the top under my favourites. Every time I make a call I see your picture and my heart breaks a little. Some days I would give the world just to be able to pick up the phone and call you one more time. There are things me and the kids have done that I want to tell you all about. Like Lukas having tonsillitis, or how much of an idiot I made of myself at the school disco. I want to tell you about Logan at nursery and Leia being a little minx. I want to talk to you about the Project Life Giveaway that I won and the fitness boot camp I signed up for, but more than anything else I would kill just hear you say you loved me one more time. I can’t bear to go through any of the boxes from your house, when I packed them I kind of assumed that I was doing everyone a favour by just getting some stuff packed. But you know as well as I do that none of them really seemed to care about the stuff in the same way you did. I tried so hard to try and protect your memory by packing the things I knew were important to you, but still I have regrets. I wish I had tried harder, wish I had been less concerned about touching stuff and causing a fuss with other people. It pains me to think that your net curtains were left up in your house and that no-one seems to know exactly what happened to your Christmas decorations. I sometimes find myself taking out an item of your clothes, just to smell the lingering scent of your perfume and the Lenor on it. I still find myself using strange methods to cope with missing you, working out and organising seem to be my favourites, but sometimes cooking and cleaning get thrown in too. Seems kind of ironic that I turn to what you always wanted me to do as a coping method, but it kind of makes me smile to think I am doing something that would be making you proud of me. I am finding it really hard to scrap my CT layouts, although I did manage to make a couple of layouts yesterday for National Scrapbooking Day. Although I would by lying if I didn’t say that I think you had some hand in the fact that this was my first one ever with no computer or internet issues. I dread to think how many times I have called you feeling furious because the laptop or desktop isn’t working or the internet is playing up when I have been looking forward to it for weeks. I like to think that you are taking care of Leo for me, it’s funny but for the first time since he died I don’t miss him so much. I miss him enough to hurt but not enough to have the moments where I wish I was dead with him. I had an accident yesterday too, Logan caught me in the eye with a bottle brush and it’s all red and swollen shut. Its streaming all the time and I couldn’t help but think of you, and feel slightly happy about the fact that you are no longer suffering with your eyes, or your legs. I would take the pain of losing you a hundred times over if it means you aren’t hurting anymore Miss you, love you Nan.
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Knowing a few tips and learning skills can be very helpful to growers. Not only will it help them optimize their growing methodology but will also save them a great deal of effort not to mention the fact that it can lessen the chances by them screwing up sometimes within the growing cycle.
Source: www.feminizedmjseeds.com/tips-and-techniques-for-growing-...
Il est souvent intéressant d'observer les hommes en milieu clos, dans un sauna par exemple.
Arrêtons-nous sur deux collègues : ils échangeront certainement sur le travail, la politique, des faits anodins, en toute complicité. Que signifie alors ici "homosexualité", quand elle perd son sens commun?
- Lao Tzu (Chinese taoist Philosopher, founder of Taoism. 600 BC-531 BC)
Photo taken at the A-ma Temple in Macau.
Holowiliena Station is a pastoral lease located south of Blinman and east of Hawker and is one of South Australia’s most remote and historic sheep stations. It is the only pastoral property in Australia still owned by the original family.
To get there you need patience for the fifty odd kilometres in from the highway. The track leads through lovely hills and creeks, with red gums and native pines.
Don’t turn left or right, just keep going and be rewarded by the homestead.
The station was settled in 1852 by William Warwick and his wife, Jennet, natives of Canonbie in Southwest Scotland.
The couple with their ten children had arrived in South Australia in 1839.
William worked for Doctors William and John Browne at Williamstown before managing their Canowie Station. After advice from his employers about unexplored country in the north, the family made a long trek across country with their possessions loaded on a horse-drawn dray. Two more children were born later at their new home.
Initially Holowiliena was described as a vacant waste land when settled in 1852, with a twelve month occupation licence. It was replaced by a pastoral lease in 1853 and remains under the same lease.
The homestead, positioned beside a creek, was built by the family in 1855.
Richard and Janne Warwick are the present owners: they have three daughters. In 1981 he had worked on the property for thirteen years when he received the shock news that he would no longer inherit the family property as promised: he could buy it within two weeks or get out. His Uncle Ray mysteriously reneged on a promise to leave him the property.
His inheritance withdrawn, Richard was faced with trying to borrow most of the money to buy Holowiliena or leave and start again.
Richard’s luck changed when he secured the money. However, he was left with a millstone and virtual servitude to the historic wool producing station for the nearly thirty five years that followed.
Richard Warwick was born at Hawker, before moving with his parents and their family to the Darling River in western New South Wales in 1950 at the age of seven. His future was mapped out from the age of twenty five when his Uncle Ray promised that he would inherit the sprawling Holowiliena station. He returned to Holowiliena in 1968 where he was treated like a son and adored by his childless uncle. The inheritance was never in doubt. The property was promised in a letter and in person. Close family friends were told about the agreement. Old family friends advised the matter be taken to court, promising backing. Richard did not take that course.
In charge of the station and deeply in debt, Richard and Janne began the long battle to retain the property. They have struggled, making many sacrifices to stay on the land they love. They lived frugally, worked long hours, drove second-hand cars and holidays were non-existent. The Warwicks have not drawn a full wage since taking over Holowiliena in 1981. One huge expense was their daughters’ boarding school education, because the nearest secondary school was a 90 minute drive away. By an agreement with the boarding school the fees were eventually paid.
The problem with paying off the big loan and school fees is that they could not put away enough money for their retirement. One issue is that the couple cannot get the pension until they have been retired for five years because of ownership issues peculiar to Holowiliena.
Richard and Janne started thinking about retiring and even selling Holowiliena when Richard had a nasty spill from a motorcycle in 2007. He was riding down a bush track to help a neighbour when the accident happened. After spending three weeks in an Adelaide hospital, at the age of sixty five, he needed help to run Holowiliena.
The station was only able to support one family. Nevertheless, daughter Frances and her husband Luke Frahn moved to the property to help out. They now have two young children, the sixth generation on the property.
For seven years the two families have lived and worked together. Frances and Luke don’t get paid except for work such as shearing and mustering.
Luke is a champion shearer: Frances is a professional wool classer and has worked on the board of the Outback Communities Authority, responsible for managing the outback, an area comprising 63% of the state. Mustering feral goats has also provided a good sideline for the family.
The arrival of the young couple at Holowiliena has given the older couple a new lease on life, with the younger gaining a great sense of belonging. It is a feeling they never had while working in shearing teams and mining camps around Australia and in many other countries.
Retirement now looms large. Janne says it will be sooner rather than later, but it won’t be retire and spend the kids’ inheritance. “The other two daughters understand that Luke and Francis are here and will be taking over,” Richard says. “We’re working through the succession plan with the accountant. At the end of it, I have to be able to sleep soundly at night knowing I’ve been fair to everyone.”
Several years ago Frances and Luke saw an advertisement for an ABC Restoration Australia documentary series. They answered and volunteered for restoration some of the historic buildings on Holowiliena. An old cellar built in the bed of a creek near the homestead in the 1850s has been restored and is in full use with produce made by Frances.
An old building known as Scalp Hut dating back to the 1860s is also restored. The pug and pine hut with hessian ceiling served a purpose when dingoes were hunted for bounty. Despite its small size it was used to sleep up to fourteen men.
The ceiling was made from bags made by the Adelaide Milling Company in Hawker, a company that hasn’t been in existence since 1901.
Luke and Frances say the restoration work is the biggest thing that has happened to them, and Frances describes it as like winning the lottery. Experts and friends helped to get all the work finished in time to be shown on the ABC programme in 2015.
During the restoration a master blacksmith helped Luke revive the blacksmiths shop. He and the master blacksmith made the gate at the front of the Scalp Hut. He is continuing to use the shop, honing the ancient skills he has learned. He and Frances say the effort that Richard and Janne have put into keeping the place going for the past decades has saved the very things that make the future exciting and promising. The idea of pre-booked tourist tours will boost interest in sharing the history of Holowiliena.
Old artefacts to be seen include a stretcher used as a bed by night and a writing desk by day by the South Australian Superintendent of Telegraphs, Charles Todd, during the building of the 3200km Australian Overland Telegraph Line.
Frances and Luke are planning to continue the merino sheep breeding business just the way it has been run for generations. Wool growing has been at the heart of the family business since 1852.
Holowiliena has used the same genetics from the famed Old Ashrose merino bloodline for 70 years and produced the same 21–22 micron wool.
Ref: Article by Nigel Austin in SA Weekend 27-3-2015 and ABC Restoration Australia.
"A good photograph is knowing where to stand" - Anselm Adams - and the photographer in the image chose his spot and waited patiently for the moment.
Some People Have Entertained Angles Without Knowing It
Artist: ltbLight
Type: Sketch
Available Resolutions: 1024x768, 1280x800, 1280x1024, 1400x1050, 1600x1200, 320x480(iPhone)
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Missing Piece
Playing with the classic jigsaw idea whilst it is raining outside..
A couple of Points to note:
1. Pick a jigsaw not marked as HARD. (failed)
2. When complete don't drop it so you have to start again.. (failed)
Indian Medicine Company, Promotional Trade CardTremont, Indiana
Date: Circa 1945
Source Type: Promotional trade card
Publisher, Printer, Photographer: Indian Medicine Company
Postmark: Not applicable
Collection: Steven R. Shook
"SEEK AND YE SHALL FIND"
The Old Original Medicine Man
Open 9 a. m. to 6 p. m.
Closed Wednesday and Thursday.
WITH HIS WONDERFUL REMEDIES
He knows your troubles without you telling him. Don't fail to see him and be convinced.
He speaks French, Spanish, Italian, German, understands Polish and all the Indian dialects.
His remedies are barks, herbs, berries and seeds.
Don't be without your medicine, send back the label or the correct name of medicine needed, and we will ship it to you at once. If I help you tell your friends; if not, tell me. During my absence tell his assistant your ailment and knowing his remedies, can help you.
Take Rt. 12 (old 49) 45 miles from Chicago, 17 miles from Gary, going east. Coming west 9 miles from Michigan City on North West corner, at Tremont, Ind. For your convenience this winter take the South Shore, get off at Tremont going east. Coming West, take the South Shore from South Bend to Tremont.
PLEASE RETURN OUR BOTTLES.
For All Correspondings Call or Write
R. A. BERCIER
Secretary-Treasurer
R. R. No. 2, Box 60
Telephone Chesterton 4455
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The old medicine man was known initially as Charles Clayton and later as Robert Bercier. Clayton would legally change his name to Robert Arthur Bercier. However, Charles Clayton was never his legal or birth name. Clayton's birth name was Roberto Joe Fernandez. This suggests that Charles Clayton/Robert Arthur Bercier was using his Hispanic heritage to impersonate a Native American.
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The following newspaper item was published December 6, 1923, in The Chesterton Tribune:
MEDICINE COMPANY TO HOLD FORTH ONH DUNES HIWAY
The Indiana Medicine company, of which County Commissioner H. A. Polentzke is one of the incorporators, has opened up for business on the Polentzke farm on the Dunes Hiway one-half miles east of Tremont. Dr. O. L. Stephenson, of Gary, and an Indian doctor will be in charge of the place, and all kinds of diseases will be treated. The company expects to maintain six rooms for patients and later on will erect additions to the building."
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The following newspaper item was published December 13, 1923, in The Chesterton Tribune:
NEW SANITARIUM ON DUNES ROAD
One of the new improvements along the Dunes highway west is to be seen a short distance east of Tremont. It is located just off the main highway a few hundred feet, on a new stone road that is being built to the south. It is a story-and-a-half structure, at present of 30x80 feet dimensions, with basement, and will be known as the office headquarters and sanitarium of the Indiana Medicine Company, Inc., of Indiana.
The new company is composed of Mr. A. H. Pollentske, of Furnessville, and owner of the large farm on part of which the new sanitarium is located. Mr. Pollentzke is also one of the county commissioners of Porter county, which office he has held for eight or ten years. Associated with Mr. Pollentske, in the company, are Doctor Chas. Clayton, familiarly known here and at Gary as the "Indian Doctor," of Gary; B. McKensie, of St. Louis, Mo., India Medicine Company, of that city; and Dr. o. L. Stephenson, practicing physician at Gary and formerly practicing at Indianapolis.
The new institution has been well equipped for office and consultation as well as for treatments and sanitarium service; although the capacity for the latter service at present limited it is intended that this will be greatly increased by additional and larger buildings and the institution grows, as it no doubt will. The company is intending the undertaking to be the nucleus of a large and growing institution, which shall take its place among the prominent and serviceable sanitariums of this party of the country.
The "Indian Doctor," as he is called, has been in Gary and has been coming to Michigan City for a long time, and is well known. The new institution was opened for business Sunday [December 9, 1923], and those from Michigan City, Gary, and other nearby places will find the new Indiana Medicine Company headquarters open for inspection.
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The following newspaper item was published March 26, 1925, in The Chesterton Tribune:
SOCIAL AND PERSONAL
Charles Clayton, president of the Indian Medicine company, of Tremont, is the proud owner of a dog that is attracting considerable attention hereabout. It is a German police black wolf, just past four months old. Its mother is international champion and the sire is a national champion. The markings of this dog are really unusual, the boat being coal black, without a single discolored hair. Both sire and dam are priceless, the owners refusing to sell at any price. Mr. Clayton is very proud of his pet, and has good reason to be. His partner, Herman Pollentske also owns a silver grey wolf dog that is now in training under the instruction of a professional Germain trainer of Chicago. The dog is being trained for police work, and will graduate in three months more. The animal is unusually intelligent naturally, and with the expert training it is receiving, will be unusually valuable.
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The following newspaper item was published April 9, 1925, in The Chesterton Tribune:
LOCAL-PERSONAL-SOCIAL
The Indian Medicine company, of which Charles Clayton is president and Herman Pollentzke is treasurer, with headquarters at Tremont on the Dunes highway has recently opened branch offices in Walkerton and Chicago. The new branches are doing a splendid business right from the start in both places. The Chicago branch is located on the north side.
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The following newspaper item was published May 13, 1926, in The Chesterton Tribune:
SOCIAL AND PERSONAL
Herman Pollentzke, of the Indian Medicine Co., with headquarters at Tremont, and branches in Chicago, tells us that his company has perfected a treatment for asthma and hay fever sufferers that is standing severe tests and giving great relief to many victims of these dread afflictions. Many Porter county people are compelled to spend July, august and September in northern climates to live at all during these periods. The Indian Medicine company's treatment will make these annual pilgrimages unnecessary, Mr. Pollentske believes. He invites his Porter county friends to try the treatment.
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The following newspaper item was published April 19, 1928, in The Chesterton Tribune:
LOCAL-SOCIAL-PERSONAL
Doc Clayton, the Cherokee Indian wizard, is back on the job at Indian headquarters on the Dunes highway just east of Tremont. Now his old friend and partner Herman Pollentzke is all smiles again. Doc works six days a week and rests Thursday's. He has appointments in Chicago, East Chicago, Gary and other points. And, by the way Doc's idea of resting is like the late Teddy Roosevelt's, only more so.
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The following newspaper item was published December 6, 1928, in The Chesterton Tribune:
LOCAL-SOCIAL-PERSONAL
Chief Dr. Al Lawmanin, of Chicago, a graduate physician, has associated himself with the Indian Medicine company, whose headquarters are located on the Dunes Highway. The Chief will have complete charge of the office. Dr. Lawmanin, according to information given us, is a graduate of Carlisle Indian School, and has also studied at Oxford University, England, Columbia University and Berlin University. Upon completion of his studies he opened an office in Chicago where he practiced his profession until a couple of weeks ago. During the world war, he served as a captain in the 36th division commanding Company M of Indiana.
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The following newspaper item was published August 8, 1929, in The Chesterton Tribune:
NO TRACE OF INDIAN SINCE ATTEMPT TO KILL POLLENTZKE
"All quiet on the reservation" is the latest word from the Indiana Medicine company just east of Tremont on the Dunes highway.
On Monday of last week, as stated in last week's Tribune, Chief Al Lawmanin, medicine man of the company, tried to stage an uprising against the whites in the person of Herman Pollentzke, president of the company and owner of the farm which contributes the medicinal herbs from which the medicine is concocted.
Dr. Lawmanin became associated with the medicine company last November. He was graduated from Carlisle Indian school and studied further in Oxford university, Columbia university and Berlin university. During the world war he was a captain.
Since November Dr. Lawmanin has been peaceful and home loving and swelt in friendship with his white brother. However, last week Monday Mr. Pollentske attempted to collect a sum of money which he says he advanced the Indian when he came here to work.
The chief became enraged, went on the warpath and lured Mr. Pollentske into the woods near the medicine company's office with the evident intention of obtaining his scalp.
Failing in this he disappeared and as we go to press "all is quiet on the reservation."
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The following newspaper item was published January 23, 1930, in The Chesterton Tribune:
DR. LAWMANIN CHARGED WITH ILLEGAL PRACTICE
Chief Lawmanin, a former partner of A. H. Pollentzke in the Indian Medicine company on the Dunes highway, was bound over to the Berrien circuit court at St. Joseph, Mich., last Wednesday on a charge of prescribing and selling medicine without a license.
Chief Lawmanin left this section rather suddenly following on [sic; am] argument with Mr. Pollentzke over a business matter. In the course of the disagreement the chief resorted to force and is said to have attempted to kill his former employer. An affidavit against him is on file in Porter county.
After leaving Chesterton Chief Lawmanin went to Niles, Mich., where he established himself as the head of the Aboriginal American Indian Society of North America. He also engaged in the patent medicine business under the name of the Indian Head Medicine company.
Lawmanin's bond was fixed at $500. He will be tried at the February term of court.
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A non-resident divorce notice published in the October 2, 1930, issue of The Chesterton Tribune lists plaintiff "CHARLES CLAYTON, whose true name is ROBERTO JOSE FERNANDEZ" and the defendant as "EMMA CLAYTON, whose true name is EMMA FERNANDEZ." This suggests that Charles Clayton was using his Hispanic heritage to impersonate a Native American.
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The following newspaper item was published January 12, 1933, in The Chesterton Tribune:
SEEN AND HEARD
Law Lawmanin, age 59, formerly Indian herb doctor with the Indian Medicine company on the Dunes highway east of Tremont, is again in trouble with the law, this time at Niles, Mich., where he is charged with driving an automobile while intoxicated, leaving the scene of an accident, and reckless driving. He is on $2,000 bonds. He attacked his former employer, A. H. Pollentzke, just before he left this vicinity to engage in the medicine business at Niles.
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The following newspaper item was published March 28, 1935, in The Chesterton Tribune:
"Doc" Clayton Forgives
Jose Fernandez ("Doc" Charles Clayton) interceded for Peter Rollis of Chicago last week when Rollis appeared before Federal Judge Thomas W. Slick at Hammond on a charge of trying to extort $4 from the Indian herb doctor. It was stated that Rollis threatened to tell Clayton's patients that he did not have a license. Clayton was a government witness but asked the judge to show leniency and he did, telling Rollis to pay back the four dollars.
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The following newspaper item was published March 28, 1935, in The Porter Tribune:
INDIAN DOCTOR UNDER BONDS FOR KNIFE ACT
R. J. Fernandez, the Tremont Indian doctor, was placed under a $1,000 bond by Justice John P. Janosky in justice court Monday and held to the Porter circuit court on a charge of assault and battery brought by Harold Packard, who claimed that Fernandez tried to attack him with a knife during a drinking bout.
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The following newspaper item was published May 9, 1935, in The Chesterton Tribune:
Fined $25 for Assault
R. J. Fernandez, Tremont Indian doctor, was fined $25 and costs Monday morning by Judge Mark B. Rockwell in Porter superior court when he was found guilty of assault and battery on Harold C. Bolivar of Tremont.
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The following death notice appears in the July 26, 1951, issue of The Vidette-Messenger:
Tremont 'Indian Doctor' Is Dead
CHESTERTON, July 26. -- Word has been received here of the death Tuesday at New Orleans, La., of Robert Bercier, 85, former Indian doctor of Tremont.
The decedent whose real name was Charles Clayton, changed legally to Robert Bercier, operated an Indian herb remedy agency at Tremont until his removal to New Orleans several years ago because of a health breakdown. At one time he was in partnership with the late August H. Pollentske, former county commissioner.
Dr. Bercier was a member of Gen. Coxey's army when it marched to Washington in 1894. He was a great friend of the general who always visited him when he came to Porter county. Bercier claimed to be of Cherokee Indiana French descent.
Funeral services and burial will be held in New Orleans.
Sources:
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; December 6, 1923; Volume 40, Number 39, Page 1, Column 6. Column titled "Medicine Company to Hold Forth on Dunes Hiway."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; December 13, 1923; Volume 40, Number 40, Page 8, Columns 5-6. Column titled "New Sanitarium on Dunes Road."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; March 26, 1925; Volume 42, Number 3, Page 8, Column 2. Column titled "Social and Personal."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; April 9, 1925; Volume 42, Number 5, Page 5, Column 3. Column titled "Local-Social-Personal."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; May 13, 1926; Volume 43, Number 10, Page 8, Column 5. Column titled "Social and Personal."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; April 19, 1928; Volume 45, Number 6, Page 5, Column 3. Column titled "Local-Social-Personal."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; December 6, 1928; Volume 45, Number 39, Page 5, Column 8. Column titled "Local-Social-Personal."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; August 8, 1929; Volume 46, Number 22, Page 8, Column 3. Column titled "No Trace of Indian Since Attempt to Kill Pollentske."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; January 23, 1930; Volume 46, Number 46, Page 1, Column 2. Column titled "Dr. Lawmanin Charged with Illegal Practice."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; October 2, 1930; Volume 47, Number 27, Page 7, Column 4. Column titled "Non-Resident Notice."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; January 12, 1933; Volume 49, Number 41, Page 4, Column 1. Column titled "Seen and Heard."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; March 28, 1935; Volume 51, Number 52, Page 7, Column 6. Column titled "'Doc' Clayton Forgives."
The Chesterton Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; May 9, 1935; Volume 52, Number 6, Page 1, Column 1. Column titled "Fined $25 for Assault."
The Porter Tribune, Chesterton, Porter County, Indiana; April 25, 1935; Volume 3, Number 33, Page 5, Column 3. Column titled "Indian Doctor Under Bonds for Knife Act."
The Vidette-Messenger, Valparaiso, Porter County, Indiana; July 26, 1951; Volume 25, Number 19, Page 6, Column 2. Column titled "Tremont 'Indian Doctor' is Dead."
Copyright 2012. Some rights reserved. The associated text may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Steven R. Shook.
.
Knowing your own complete picture is ALWAYS liberating, no matter how much it hurts in the beginning.
Cheers to a great life!
.
Serena: Olha Nity, esses são seus priminhos Lissa e Erick. E sua tia Lotte ^___^~
Nity: =3
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Essa ficou realmente escura >__<
maaas gostei tanto pq da pra ver o quanto essas suas são parecidas <3
Boa noitee gentee =**
Rack: I feel like a lot of grief is for ourselves. A pre-grieving for our own ends. I had a similar grief as you describe when my father died. I came back from Dublin and one night just roared and wailed, an extreme weeping. It felt very efficient. I stopped and it felt as if I was largely done with the loss of him. Nothing as simple with the mother.
I really like the idea of euthanasia on demand. I think I would relax a lot knowing it was there.
Ruin: That quite reminds me of Gerard Manley Hopkins’ poem ‘Spring and Fall’. It’s written to a girl called Margaret. It begins with “Márgarét, áre you gríeving”, and ends with the lines “It ís the blight man was born for, It is Margaret you mourn for.”. It’s strange, but I was reading it yesterday and then you left this message. Yes, we grieve for ourselves, and 35 years is a lot of grieving, perhaps leading to that pithy diagnosis, PTSD. I think we are doing rather well, and have somehow pulled some sanity out of where we have got/found ourselves. I think our capacity to put it down, write it out, make images, whatever, might have leavened that somewhat, made it easier even.
Yes, it’s there, that euthanasia more or less on demand. They even give you a little handbook describing the possibility, and the route to get there. I am not at all sure what this does to your psyche. I suspect it might be double-edged, like everything else.
Natalie Merchant recorded a song based on the poem:
A knowing grin?
Carolyn, Dildo, Reverend Spike Jones.
sitting on lap.
July 3, 2009.
... Read my blog at ClintJCL.wordpress.com
... Read Carolyn's blog at CarolynCASL.wordpress.com
BACKSTORY: We went to X-Day again this year. It was a totally different experience than last year. It rained for the first three days we were there, but then it got really nice for the weekend. It was never overbearingly hot.
...Read my blog summary of this year's X-Day here: clintjcl.wordpress.com/?p=3301
Dildo Valerie explains how she made $160 for her services: www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nyAll5XjrA
... High quality pictures of X-Day by George Burgyan here: photos.vec.com/gallery/8832367_rTsLi#585168776_zkJgA
... Pictures of the previous year's X-Day begin on this page: www.flickr.com/photos/clintjcl/with/2760523224/
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Kangna's Fashion Secrets.....
_____
Panchi
Do you have an inherent sense of style? I always loved dressing up, even as
a child. Back in Manali, people often considered my dress sense unique,
sometimes outrageous. I think, true style is all about knowing yourself. One
should never get carried away by a brand name. Instead, they should focus on
understanding what works for them, what mood they are in, what the occasion
is, what suits them physically and so on.(Text courtesy: The Indian Express)
_____
Panchi
Do you find yourself browsing through fashion magazines very often? I do
look them up for hairstyles, make-up trends et al. It's part of an actor's
job to look fashionable and be in style. But I don't get things I see in
magazines replicated though I did do that sometimes as a teenager.
_____
Panchi
How did you manage to feed your passion when you were in your hometown? I
used to shop a lot, even in those days. My grandfather really spoilt me. My
great grandfather is 105 years old. He was a minister for 15 years and a
freedom fighter before that. So he had a relatively big pension, and I was
his absolute favourite. I'd get that as pocket money and shop with it.
_____
Panchi
What do you find yourself most comfortable in? I don't think fashion is
about comfort. You have to choose between fashion and comfort. As an actor,
it is my job to look stylish, be it with short dresses or high heels. But in
my personal space, I love wearing dresses since I find them comfortable.
_____
Panchi
What do you spend most on? Handbags. Seriously, one bag can be so expensive.
But then a bag also goes with you all the time.
_____
Panchi
Where do you usually shop? I shop abroad mostly, when I holiday or when I am
on an outdoor shooting schedule. The prices of international brands vary so
much depending on the location. For instance, the same brand may cost you
more in London or Milan than in Dubai or the USA. I even shop off the
streets in the US and Bangkok.
_____
Panchi
Who is your fashion icon and which designers do you admire? Victoria Beckham
and Rihanna are very cool they have an inherent sense of style. I also
admire Angelina Jolie's casual chic. In India, Rita Dhodhy dresses really
well. Among designers, I love Chanel, DandG and Moschino. Sabyasachi
Mukherji's work is very admirable too.
_____
Panchi
Are you a shopaholic? Yes, but I keep my expenditure within my budget,
usually.
_____
Panchi
What all is on your fashion must-haves list? In the summers, I'd say linen
pants, dresses and skirts. Everyone should have a nice white linen dress in
their closet.
_____
Panchi
What's the most priceless posession in your wardrobe? On my birthday, my
mother gave me a Pashmina shawl, which is worth lakhs. It's made of a
special fur and is from Manali it's something I'll never find anywhere else
in the world.
_____
Panchi
What's your take on saris as a fashion garment? I don't really have a taste
for saris. I'm from the mountains and nobody wears saris there since they
are difficult to carry. Even my mother rarely wore a sari. But I do have
some occasion-wear.
_____
Panchi
Do you mix and match your outfits or keeping to the reputation of a diva,
you would not repeat? I wear whatever I want. But it's unfair of the media
to pressurise actors on that front. I mean, why should anyone not repeat
their clothes?
_____
Luv / Panchi.....
--~--~---------~--~----~
Well, having seen the world remembering D Day this week, the class of 1975 at Colne Valley High had their own day of memories of their own D Day, leaving school, on the evening of the 8th of June-a school reunion at Slaithwaite Cricket Club. This school year is the year we all turn(ed) 60-scary really.
We had a reunion four years ago, my first, and I really enjoyed it. Four years on, in changed circumstances and with a lot of shit having happened-and currently happening, I wasn't in the mood for it really. Knowing that I would regret not making the effort though, and having been asked to take a camera, I kicked myself up the backside and, for the first time in over 18 months, I put my glad rags on, gathered some gear and nipped down to the cricket club. I hadn't set foot in a bar for over 18 months either, having gone out four or five times a week for a few years I fell out with doing the same old thing and just stopped going out. Having been tea total until I was 42 but having developed a liking for wine in my forties, I felt that I was having a drink every evening out of habit rather than for pleasure so I decided to stop for a month-a month became a year and I don't miss it-yet! I haven't watched live TV for 17 years, it frees an amazing amount of time up to do other (real life?) things- I definitely don't miss TV either.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who finds it really strange to be meeting ghosts from the past, often long forgotten. How many would you fail to recognise without the name tag giving it away? Talking to people, it's obvious that many have fond memories of school, me? I despised every second, Junior school wasn't good but high school killed me, I was struck down with a blinding migraine that crippled me only weeks into the first term-stress related. There wasn't another boy from my old school in our form and seats are always in pairs, old schoolmates formed clicks and I was an outsider-for a while. I missed a lot of school, I didn't walk the streets, so long as I put my overalls on and worked my Dad turned a blind eye to me walking back home to work, having clocked in for the morning register. There wouldn't be any letters from him claiming that I'd been ill, I had to tough it out and make my own excuses, sometimes forging my own letters. I walked out early in the fifth form and never really went back. When I went to get my leaving papers signed at the end of the fifth form most of the teachers though that I'd left long ago. The truant officers were on my case, but, finding that I was working, and that I had no intention of going back to school, they agreed to calling it work experience but the deal was that I had to go to school one day a week. I chose Friday. The reality was that once every few weeks I went for first registration and then climbed out of the form room window, in C block, at ground level, and legged it back to work. During the reunion evening I glanced at the printed roll call of our school year that was on the tables, I searched for my name in 5B1, scanning the list over and over again-my name wasn't there! I don't suppose it's surprising really is it?
I used to do a lot of party photography but gave up years ago as I was getting asked to do christenings and weddings and the like and I've never wanted to turn a hobby into a job, what's the point? I haven't put a flashgun on a camera for years and, even though I use my cameras every day of the week, I had to reacquaint myself with indoor flash techniques again, which really means that I shot half a dozen test shots in my office at home before I turned out. Going around a room full of relative strangers, often not impressed at having a large professional camera stuck in their face, isn't for the fainthearted, and, like flash photography, you get better with practice-I'm definitely out of practice. I tried, but probably failed, to include everyone, some people seemed to stay out of my way, but I did try to be inclusive. Personally, I think that perhaps Michael Sykes was the only person that took a photo of me-so perhaps I was there after all! I was asked to write the opinion column in The Times a few years ago, I'd written a letter to the editor (as you do), and, having impressed the editor with my viewpoint on a subject that they were getting quite wrong, with a letter that was far too long to publish, but that I knew an awful lot more about than they did, the editor of the opinion column was asked to approach me with a view to me writing a column for publication the following day. It was bit surreal at the time and led to TV and radio interviews over the following twelve months-my ten seconds of fame I suppose. The problem was that I had to find a photo of myself in a suit to go with the column. At the time, thankfully, I often went out in a suit but I was always the man with the camera and no one took photos of me unless someone grabbed my camera. I did eventually manage to crop myself from a scene with lots of other people in it, tidy it up a bit, and it did the job.
It was good to catch up with some old friends and I think it's fantastic that Lynn, Michael and Dianne go to the trouble of organising these reunions (my apologies if anyone else is involved) They took the financial risk of hiring Storm to entertain us (and rattle my tinnitus) and kept their fingers crossed that we'd all stump up enough to cover the cost. Of course another reason for not missing a reunion is that you may not see some of these people again. I'm often amazed that someone from my schooldays appears at work as a customer, I haven't seen them for 30 or 40 years and they only live a mile or so away from me. Many people long for their schooldays back, often with the caveat that they knew then what they know now, the advantages of youth and the wisdom of age, personally, I wouldn't want to go back for love nor money. There's a lot I want to do but very little I'd want to repeat. I was in a dispute with a local hillbilly who used to drive for us a while ago, a man who was always complaining that everything about yesterday, the past, was better than today. He told me that he never got on with me because I was a progressive, always looking forward and he wasn't. I laughed and said thank f**k for that.
The photos aren't my best effort, autofocus doesn't like dimly lit rooms, if I took a photo of someone and it isn't here, it's probably because the autofocus didn't lock on-or the flash didn't fire, apologies to anyone I missed although I would guess that someone with a phone got you.
Will we have another I wonder? Time will tell.
Knowing my interest in buses, our girl Jemma took this shot from the window of her Uni accommodation overlooking Brayford Way of the Lincoln City Football team taking part in a tour of the city to celebrate their return to the EFL as Champions of the National League. The bus is former Western National and Eastern Counties ECW bodied Bristol LDL6G type VDV 752. It is of course well known to me, it having spent several summers allocated to ECOC Cromer depot for use on seasonal open top service 769 between Overstrand, Cromer, The Runtons and Sheringham. Anyone know the current owner(s)?
A beautiful stone from the beach and beautiful words from ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer from "The Dance"...
"I have a very particular feeling in my body
when I remember or imagine a graceful day.
It is a day without rush,
a day where I am not suffering over things not being any different than they are,
a day where I take a breath and accept
those things I cannot change
like long line-ups in the bank or traffic jams or the weather.
It’s a day when I rest easy in a mysterious knowing
that there is enough
- enough time and money and energy and heart
in the world and in my life,
a day when I know that I am enough.
It is a day when I am simply present with myself
and all that is around me.
It is a day of being truly happy, of feeling graceful
- comfortable in my own skin and life."
One of the RISE street-art festival commissions that are around the city.
On a walk around the city to see what I may find March 24, 2014 Christchurch New Zealand..A beautiful Autumn day.
www.stuff.co.nz/the-press/christchurch-life/art-and-stage...
All about our Earthquakes: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Christchurch_earthquake
Yoga for Health: Are You Stressing Out? Take Yoga Class Stress is actually the number one killer of humans on the planet. Stress is a factor and cause of more physical and mental diseases than…
Fat Weight Loss – An Assured Way If you have some serious weight problem with you then you might be knowing that you are very prone to have the risk of heart problems, diabetes and…
Smoke Photo Art.
"If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story."
Orson Welles
I tried one more sphere in this, but I didn't like it. Sometimes it's hard to know if I'm done with a piece. For most of the ones I have been posting recently (including this one) I have gone back to something I had worked on before but had stopped unsatisfied with the results. I believe my second attempts have been more successful, but perhaps some of them were better left "unfinished."
Lighting Essentials Workshop
Alien Bee beauty dish boomed close over head. Fill card under her chin to fill in shadows. The strobe was giving me f/14 synched at 1/200s. Triggered by Pocket Wizards.
Exposure and contrast adjustment with Lightroom 2. Skin blemish removal, stray hair removal, eyes lightened, eyes sharpened with a high pass filter in overlay mode, Mama Shan's powder applied at 90%, gaussian blur at 20% for glow and vignette, all in Photoshop.
I'm not entirely happy with the crop on this image but there was some funky stuff to the right that I couldn't successfully clone out. I would have liked to have given her a bit more room to the right.
MUA: Aprille Cabilan (Model Mayhem #772627)
Model: mushie nawabi (Model Mayhem #802839)
The world turns aside to let any man pass who knows where he is going. (Epictetus)
For more of my photography visit www.card-photo.com
Before this day, I had not heard of Hemblington. But I saw a sign pointing to the church, away over the fields, and I had time, so I turned to see where it went.
The road went for ages until I saw the church, tucked in the countryside, round tower looking so typically Norfolk.
Inside I was dazzled by the painted font, the wall paintings on the north wall and the various nooks and crannies of this ancient church, but not really knowing what each was for.
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You don't have to go far off of the hellish A47 between Norwich and Yarmouth to come out into an utterly rural and remote corner of Norfolk. This is partly sleight of hand, because the narrow lanes which leave the busy road are so winding that they make you think you've come further than you have. Also, you might expect this area between the marshes and the broads to be flat and open; but here the landscape rolls, a patchwork of hedged fields and copses. In the late summer, there was a balmy restlessness, the soothing warmth of the sun competing with the wind from the North Sea ruffling and rustling the long grass.
All Saints is set in a secretive graveyard on a rise above a lattice of country lanes. From a distance it appears a sentinel; but, closer to, the aspect softens, and the church reveals itself as a humble little round-towered building, with much that is old about it, but also the simple mendings and making dos of later generations. I was particularly struck by the use of red brick, both in the elegant window in the western side of the Norman tower (is it 17th century?) and the moulding inside the opening of what is otherwise a humble south porch.
When I first came this way I bemoaned the fact that Hemblington church was kept locked, but I am happy to report that it is now open every day. Certainly, Hemblington is a remote parish, and its church a remote church, and trusting strangers is a risk - and Faith itself is a risk, of course. But the great medieval treasures of Hemblington are not the kind that can be carted away in the back of a white van.
The first is one of a number of very interesting, even idiosyncratic, fonts in this part of Norfolk. These do not appear to be part of a series, although this one does bear a strong resemblance to that nearby at Buckenham. They do suggest, however, that there was an abundance of stonecarvers working in this area in the 15th century, and that parishes were able to express their independence and individuality in their choice of subject. The Reformation would put a stop to that.
The Hemblington font was recoloured lightly in the 1930s under the eye of Professor Tristram. It is a great celebration of Saints; there are seven seated on the panels of the bowl, and eight more standing around the shaft. The eighth panel subject is a beautiful Holy Trinity, with God the Father seated holding his crucified Son between his knees, while the dove of the Spirit descends. It is a charming image; there is another on the font at Acle a few miles off. Among the Saints on the panel are St Augustine, St Edward the Confessor, St Barbara, and a striking St Agatha - she sits with her breasts bared, a sword descending. Among those around the shaft are St Lawrence with a finely carved grid iron, St Leonard with his manacles, St Margaret dispatching a dragon with her cross, St Catherine with her wheel and sword, St Stephen and St Mary Magdalene.
If there was only the font, Hemblington would be a must-see for anyone interested in the late medieval period. But just as the font demonstrates the enthusiasms of the cool, rational 15th century, so there is evidence of the shadowier devotions of a century earlier. This is the best single surviving wall painting of the narrative of St Christopher in England. The giant figure bestrides the river opposite the south doorway, just as he does in about twenty churches in this part of Norfolk, but here his staff has become a club, and on either bank there are smaller scenes depicting events in the Saint's story. those on the west side, recalling his life as a pagan before conversion, are all but obliterated. Those on the east side, however, are marvellously well-preserved, vivid and immediate in their clarity. They show the trials and tribulations he underwent in his life as a Christian, including the occasion on which two women were sent to tempt him in prison, and another where he is led to the executioner's sword. Another shows him tied to a tree being flogged, an echo of the scourging of Christ; another shows him being shot through with arrows, which would have immediately brought to mind the martyrdom of their own dear St Edmund to the medieval East Anglians.
The donors who paid for the font, in that great, late medieval attempt to reinforce Catholic orthodoxy in the face of local abuses and superstitions, are probably among those remembered by brass inscriptions in the nave.
And this must have been a busy parish in those days, for will evidence reveals that there were three guild altars where lights burned for the dead. We can even trace where these guild altars may have been, for on the north side of the nave there is a piscina, and connected to it is a pedestal, where a statue of a Saint would have stood. Such things were probably destroyed in the 1530s by orders of the increasingly paranoid King Henry VIII; those that survived would have fallen to the orders of the enthusiastically puritan advisors of his son, the boy King Edward VI a decade later. It is appalling to think of the richness that once was, not just here, but in thousands of village churches all over England. So much lost, so much wilfully destroyed.
Hemblington has retained more than most, and the church is a fascinating testimony to the mindset of late medieval East Anglia. But even without these great treasures, All Saints is a charming, rural building that speaks as loudly of the Victorian villagers who paid for, and probably worked on, its restoration as it does of their mysterious Catholic forebears. I stood for a moment imagining the blacksmith and the plowboy, the wheelwright and the carpenter, sitting in the pews for Divine Service. And then, after a chat with the modern custodians, we headed on for North Burlingham.
Simon Knott, November 2007
www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/hemblington/hemblington.htm
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Six socmen of Gert were at the Conquest deprived of 30 acres of land, 2 acres of meadow, with 2 carucates, in this town, there were also 2 socmen, one of them belonged to the soc of the hundred, who held half a carucate of land, and a borderer with 6 acres of meadow, who had under them 7 socmen, with 20 acres of land, and one of meadow, and there was one carucate and an half among them all; it was one leuca long, and half a leuca broad, and paid 16d. gelt. (fn. 1)
This lordship was in the Crown at the survey, and Godric took care of it; and was granted to the family of Le Botiler, and from them came to the Botetourts, as in South Walsham, and Upton.
William de Rothing and Joan his wife claimed view of frankpledge, &c. in the 15th of Edward I.
Henry de Cat and Margery his wife had an interest herein, in the 35th of the said King, and Henry Cat, and Jeffrey Atte Fenne were returned to be lords in the 9th of Edward II. after this John Fastolf and Margery his wife.
The principal manor belonged to the see of Norwich; at the survey William Beaufoe Bishop of Thetford held it in his own right, as a lay fee, 60 acres of land; of which 2 freemen (of Ralph Stalre were deprived) with the soc and sac; of one of these Almar Bishop of Elmham had the commendation, or protection only, of this Beaufoe had the soc, &c. and Ralph, the Earl had the other, valued at 2s.
Bishop Beaufoe in right of his see had also 21 socmen, with 140 acres of land, 8 acres of meadow, and 3 carucates and a half, &c. this was valued in his principal lordship of Blowfield: in this town, there were also 60 acres of demean land. (fn. 2)
Bishop Beaufoe gave this to his see at his death, and Bishop Herbert settled it on the priory, with the advowson of the church.
The ancient family of the Castons held a considerable part of these fees. of the see of Norwich, of whom see in Blofield, Bradeston, &c. and after came to the Berneys of Reedham; the Lords Bardolf had also an interest herein, in the 15th of Edward I. William Bardolf, claimed the assise, frank pledge, &c.
Sir Thomas Berney died lord in 1389, and his descendant, Henry Berney, Esq. in 1584.
The tenths were 2l. The temporalities of St. Faith's priory 18d. Of Weybridge 5s.
The Church was a rectory dedicated to All-Saints, and formerly in the patronage of the Bishops of Norwich, but was appropriated to the prior and convent of Norwich, for the prior's table, by Walter Suffield Bishop in 1248, and was valued together with the vicarage at 5l.—Peter-pence 12d.—Carvage 2d. ob.
Vicars.
In 1304, Thomas de Langele, instituted vicar, presented by the prior &c. of Norwich.
1307, Richard de Boton. Ditto.
1324, And. de Bedingham. Ditto.
1349, Edmund Barker. Ditto.
1367, Thomas Gilbert. Ditto.
1395, John Malpas. Ditto.
1395, Edmund Heryng. Ditto.
1397, Robert Gernon. Ditto.
1401, Sim. Annable. Ditto.
1402, Robert Body. Ditto.
It has for many years been served with a stipendiary curate, nominated by the dean and chapter, who have the appropriated rectory.
¶In the church were the lights of All-Saints, St. Mary, Holy Cross, St. Catherine, and St. Margaret.
www.british-history.ac.uk/topographical-hist-norfolk/vol1...