View allAll Photos Tagged lithics
Henry David Thoreau
As for me, I see the lithe, arched body of a woman, flaming red hair tossed back, arms flung wide as she dances in the sun. Soon enough, passionate, rich red roses will spring forth from this late afternoon tryst between the leaves and the distant star.
As she drinks in the passionate heat with her every leaf and stem and root, one can imagine her movement in the wind to be a dance to an inaudible song of spring. It's a song meant to entice the sun to shine with all his might. His reward, is to watch her dance and sway in all her glory, and to see the buds that swell and burst into full bloom from her stems..
It should be a very interesting summer, no?
These photos were taken 9 months ago, in July 2022.
A few months ago I started a page on Instagram where I post a limited number of my footwear photos. Posting them quickly on Instagram makes it possible for you to view them without having to wait months for them to appear here.
My username on Instagram is onlymeknow9876 My name there is Stupid Me
I will, as I have time, continue to post the full collection, including the photos put up on Instagram.
I've always liked Merrell's shoes. I had a pair of similar Merrell "Barefoot" shoes, very thin soles, no heel lift, loads of ground feel, for a few years, but didn't wear them too often. But then a friend said that was the only shoes he ever wore.
So, I bought several other pair. I've already posted photos of a couple of the other pair, but I think these are my favorite. They feel the lightest, thinnest of any of them.
However the toes on this pair have come unglued (and the glue is showing signd of failure elsewhere). While here the toes were just beginning to come loose, by now, 9 months later, the toes are completely loose and dangling. I tried holding them in place with loops of tape, but they kept coming loose. So, now I'm letting them dangle, and sometimes folding underneath as I walk.
I think I'll let this pair just fall apart. At some point, the toes will break off, and toe holes will develop in the very thin midsoles (there are no insoles). All the better, I'll wear them like that.
The original stone may have been a megalithic marker. The oldest depictions show a larger stone and site it at a different place to that of the cage protected current lithic marker. The outdoor rural court at the larger Birlay Stone under the shade of the Birley Tree first found Marion Lillie who was locally called either the Rigwoodie, or the Ringwoody Witch not guilty. The Rigwoody Witch was later accused again, the Rigwoody attached to her name and label of witch is from the Scots Rigwoody meaning thin, or bony. Her second recorded trial has her sent to further courts with a guilty verdict to present to them. Some suppose that she would have been found guilty there and put to death as a witch. Before the imperfect legal process was concluded Marion died and was buried in Spott Church grounds showing she was not convicted at the time of her demise.
Whether the either the process of accusation and defence were contributing factors in Marion’s death, or not the records are not present to say, yet there is a record, “Many witches burnt on Spott Loan,” this follows Marion’s death and some believe that these many were 13, maybe a number not recorded, as 13 are considered by some an ideal number for a coven and 13 has several wicked and even evil connotations for some. The records and several authors comments are visible through the links below. Some record Marion and link her to a Marion Lillie and some record her as the last witch burned in Scotland. We will never have that perspective that ran throughout the times when Europeans thought Witches were to be discovered, tortured and put to death. That perspective that allowed many to dispose of often elderly women who some saw as hanging on to what they waited too long for. Through the death of the falsely accused person others could be rid of the living obstacle by convicting them and killing them as a witch.
Before society could allow for people differing from ‘the norm’ there were many targets to haul before what passed for justice. Those times for some are not that far away and we can at times act like such victimisation is still completely acceptable. Every culture has people at risk as we seem to realise that high ideals are for art, culture and dreams and that low acceptance is still fuelling violence and inherited intolerance is still simmering ready to burn any that happen to be seen as Witch, whatever it meant back then and for whatever it means today. Witch is a word we say, for some it is used as an insult and a slander. Witches past and present are the ones victimised and victorious in reclaiming our rights to be different and to accepted, to be in need as we all are of the harmony and the balance that comes through tolerance. Witch is just one word that people have used to label and dehumanise another person to such extreme that a Witch being murdered was seen a blessing.
The links below give the history better than I have above.
This was part of a journey to other sites. Some are listed below.
© PHH Sykes 2022
phhsykes@gmail.com
The Witches Stone. Spott Community Association
www.spottvillage.org.uk/witches-stone-2/
Witches' Stone, Spott
canmore.org.uk/site/57667/witches-stone-spott
Witches' Stone, Spott
www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/6453/witches_stone.html
Witches' Stone, Spott
www.megalithic.co.uk/article.php?sid=8239
Witches' Stone, Spott
www.johngraycentre.org/collections/getrecord/ELHER_MEL1560/
Spott Church
Easter Broomhouse Standing Stone (Prehistoric)
canmore.org.uk/site/57622/easter-broomhouse
Also The Modern Antiquarian and The Megalithic Portal
Easter Broomhouse Standing Stone
www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/1492/
Easter Broomhouse Standing Stone
www.megalithic.co.uk/article.php?x=368000&y=676600
Pencraig Hill Standing Stone (Prehistoric)
www.themodernantiquarian.com/site/1494/pencraig_hill_stan...
Pencraig Hill Standing Stone (Prehistoric)
Photographer: Julius Kassovic, photojulius.com
$195 for framed 11x14 print
(From the long-term project Intimate Waterscapes.)
Julius Kassovic is a fine-art photographer based in Silver Spring, MD. Since 2005, Sligo Creek (running through Silver Spring and Takoma Park, MD) has been his major muse and subject of his series of photographs Intimate Waterscapes.
Julius was introduced to fundamentals of photography in high school so he could shoot pictures for the school newspaper and yearbook. On a 4x5 Graflex, he learned to load black and white sheet film into its film holders, compose effectively, and use darkroom equipment to develop and print. He has not been without a camera close-at-hand since.
His photographic skills were honed as an undergraduate by assisting the studio photographer in a museum, by illustrating his graduate ethnographic fieldwork, and by documenting people and projects while working around the world with Peace Corps. Living and working among other peoples and cultures has had a profound effect on his outlook, and therefore on his photography. He tries to look beyond surface impressions to glimpse underlying images and meaning.
He has exhibited his photographs in juried shows regionally at the University of Maryland, Penn State University, The Delaplaine Arts Center in Frederick. and the Circle Gallery in Annapolis, and has had solo shows in Maryland at The Blackrock Center for the Arts in Germantown, the Brighton Dam Gallery in Brookville, VisArts in Rockville and the Adkins Arboretum in Ridgely. A number of his photographs have also been selected for exhibit in galleries in New York, Vermont, Oregon and California, including a photograph in Best of Nature 2013 at the San Diego Museum of Natural History. In November three of his photographs were juried into the 13th Annual Pollux Awards in Barcelona, and all three were awarded Honorable Mention.
In 2016 he was honored to be one of 50 photographers (from 1900+ entries) selected to have six photographs included in the book SEEING IN SIXES, published by LensWork and edited by Brooks Jensen and Maureen Gallagher. In 2017, he was selected again. The first year they chose six tree reflection photographs; the next year, it was leaves in the waters of the creek.
Recent Exhibits:
February, 2020, Circle Gallery, Annapolis, MD - Focal Point
October, 2019: FotoNostrum, Barcelona – three photographs judged Honorable Mention at the 13th annual Pollux Gala Awards
June-July 2019, WSSC Headquarters, Laurel, MD
April, 2019 (2018, 2017), ArtHop, Takoma Park, MD
April, 2019, Brighton Dam Gallery, WSSC, Brookville, MD - Watershed Photographs.
Solo exhibit
Jan-Feb, 2019, Circle Gallery, Annapolis, MD - Focal Point
July-August, 2018, Blackrock Center for the Arts, Germantown, MD - Natural Abstractions. Solo exhibit
Nov–Dec, 2017: LightBox Photographic Gallery, Astoria, OR - Nature's Way
July-August, 2017: PhotoPlace Gallery, Middlebury, VT - Portals
February, 2017: Circle Gallery, Annapolis, MD - Focal Point
Recent Publications:
2017: SEEING IN SIXES, LensWork Publishing; six photographs.
2016: SEEING IN SIXES, LensWork Publishing; six photographs.
2009: Cover, Takoma Park Budget
Stone Awl - "PALEO TOOLS: The kinds of tools used by the Paleoindians can tell us much about their way of life. Most of the tools surviving today are made of stone. Spear points, knives, drills, and scrapers are typical Paleoindian artifacts. They were used for a variety of tasks, including hunting and butchering animals, processing plants, and working raw materials to make other tools. Archaeological sites of the Paleoindians contain mostly chipped stone tools and waste flakes left from the manufacturing process. However it is almost certain that these people made wide use of other raw materials including bone, wood, ivory, and antler. Objects made of these materials do not preserve as well as stone and have likely decayed over the past 10,000 years. Springs, sinkholes and deep river beds offer good conditions for preserving organic materials because of their high mineral content and lack of oxygen. Fragments of bone, wood, and other plant remains will give clues to future archaeologists who research the skills that Paleoindians needed to survive in Ice Age Florida. " ~ Display at the Florida Museum of Natural History. (Photo 091712-013.jpg) Paleoindians section of the Division of Historical Resources - Florida Museum of History - Where I used to work - September 17, 2012: A Walk Down Memory Lane - revisiting College Town - Tallahassee, Florida. (c) 2012 - photography by Leaf McGowan, Thomas Baurley, Eadaoin Bineid - technogypsie.com. To purchase this photo or to obtain permission to use, go to www.technogypsie.com/photography/
"PALEOINDIANS: The earliest people who inhabited North America are called Paleoindians. They came to Florida during the end of the last Ice Age, at least 12,000 years ago. Their way of life lasted for about 2,500 years. Archaeologists have found few Paleoindian sites. If, as it seems likely, these early people lived along the coast of Florida, their settlements have been covered by the rising sea level. Compared to later Florida Indian cultures, Paleoindians lived in small, widely dispersed groups. Their artifacts are often found around outcrops of a flint-like rock called chert. Pieces of chert were chipped, or knapped, to make stone tools. Paleoindian artifacts are also found in springs, sinkholes and rivers that were probably ancient waterholes. These were important sources of fresh water in an otherwise dry landscape.
PALEO TIMELINE: 12,000 B.P. to 9,500 B.P. (Before present) - EARLY PALEO PERIOD: 12,000-10,000 BP - Simpson point on mammoth ivory foreshaft (circa 11,500 BP) - First evidence of people on the Florida peninsula, Paleoindians live a semi-nomadic life, hunt big game like mastadon, climate was drier than today, and sea level is more than 100 feet lower than today. - Bison antiguns skull with embedded spearpoint, Wacissa River (circa 11,000 BP).
LATE PALEO PERIOD: 10,000 to 9500 BP - stone bola weight (circa 10,000 BP) had most big game animals extinct, wetter climate prevails, sea level rises gradually, several new styles of stone points appear, like the side notched bolan point. " ~ Display in the Florida Museum of Natural History.
For more information visit:
Paleoindians: www.technogypsie.com/science/?p=939 (expected publication December 2012)
Tallahassee: www.technogypsie.com/reviews/?p=5093 (Expected publication November 2012)
Florida: www.technogypsie.com/reviews/?p=5079 (Expected Publication December 2012)
For travel tales, visit:
Soil profile: The Quetico series consists of very shallow, well drained soils.(Soil Survey of Voyageurs National Park, Minnesota; by Peter Weikle, Natural Resources Conservation Service)
Landscape: These soils formed in loamy noncalcareous glacial drift on uplands with relief controlled by the underlying bedrock. These soils have bedrock beginning at depths ranging from 4 to 10 inches. The saturated hydraulic conductivity is moderate in the loamy mantle. Slopes range from 2 to 90 percent. Mean annual precipitation is about 28 inches and mean annual air temperature is about 37 degrees F.
TAXONOMIC CLASS: Loamy, isotic, acid, frigid Lithic Udorthents
Thickness of solum and depth to bedrock range from 4 to 10 inches. Texture of the material above the rock contact is loam, silt loam, sandy loam, fine sandy loam or gravelly and cobbly analogues. Content of gravel by volume ranges from 3 to 35 percent. Stones and boulders within or on the soil range from 0 to 3 percent. The gravel is dominantly granite or gabbro, but sandstone is included in a few places. Reaction is very strongly acid or strongly acid.
USE AND VEGETATION: These soils mostly are in mixed deciduous and coniferous forest. Dominant trees are jack pine, red pine, white pine, quaking aspen, paper birch, balsam fir and mountain ash. Major resource uses are recreation, timber, watershed, and wildlife habitat.
DISTRIBUTION AND EXTENT: MLRA's 88, 90, 93 and 142. The Laurentian Shield region of northeastern Minnesota and in New York. Moderately extensive.
For additional information about the survey area, visit:
www.nrcs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_MANUSCRIPTS/minnesota/voya...
For a detailed soil description, visit:
soilseries.sc.egov.usda.gov/OSD_Docs/Q/QUETICO.html
For acreage and geographic distribution, visit:
"Lithic artifacts, including jade and stone implements, rival the bronzes at Sanxingdui, and they together represent the highest achievements of the Sanxingdui civilization and its artistry. A large number of lithic artifacts have been unearthed at the site, mostly from the two sacrificial pits. Blades such as zhang and ge account for the majority; they display features distinctive to this period and region. Most of the blades are finely worked, large in size and varying in shape. Some shapes have not been encountered elsewhere in ancient China.
Jade working gradually matured since the late Neolithic Period and became highly developed in the late Shang Dynasty period. The jades from the tomb of Fu Hao at Anyang in Henan Parovince were previously considered most representative of late Shang craftsmanship. These are now rivalled by the jades from Sanxingdui. Jade and stone artifacts were often used in ancient times as mens of communication between humans on earth and gods and spirits in heavenly realms. They were crafted as ritual implements believed to possess supernatural powers. Since remote antiquity, people of China had customarily cherished jade, and produced splendid works of art from this precious material; this phenomenon may be described as the 'jade culture of China'."
Girl lithe & tawny, the sun that forms
the fruits, that plumps the grains, that curls seaweeds
filled your body with joy, and your luminous eyes
and your mouth that has the smile of the water.
A black yearning sun is braided into the strands
of your black mane, when you stretch your arms.
You play with the sun as with a little brook
and it leaves two dark pools in your eyes.
Girl lithe and tawny, nothing draws me towards you.
Everything bears me farther away, as though you were
noon.
You are the frenzied youth of the bee,
the drunkenness of the wave, the power of the wheat-ear.
My sombre heart searches for you, nevertheless,
and I love your joyful body, your slender and flowing
voice.
Dark butterfly, sweet and definitive
like the wheat-field and the sun, the poppy and the water.
~ Pablo Neruda, "Girl Lithe & Tawny"
Dedicated to Sonia K.
Try clicking on "All Sizes" to see just how lithe & tawny she is.
The Fourteenth Spirit is called Leraikha (or Leraje Leraie). She is Marchioness Great in Power. She appears when the Sun is in Sagittarius, in the likeness of a most beautiful lithe Amazonian Indian Woman of gymnastic form carrying a Bow and Quiver. She will manifest amidst the enfolding Green depths of the Amazonian Jungle within ones visions.
She can instigate great battles and contests so as to harass the enemies of her Master whereupon those who have malign intentions whom seek to cause harm will experience the spread of worm eaten wounds to erupt forth upon their bodies that will putrefy, which will be brought about by the influence of her ‘Power Intrusion’ flying Arrows very much like that of Elf-Shot.
She teaches her Master about the art of Shamanic ‘Sucking Doctoring’ whereupon he will be enabled to suck out 'Power Intrusions' in order to heal others should her Master desire it so. She is also very wise in the usage of the ‘Soul Vine’ Ayahuasca to know of numerous other Amazon Rainforest Power Plant Spirits all Feminine, which she will reveal in depth about as well as to teach of those Shamanistic ways practiced by many an Amazon tribe. She Governs 30 Legions of Spirits like her self whom to appear as a tribe of Women hunting within the depths of the Amazonian Jungle Green.
(Note: Check out the Article 'DNA Serpent Quantum Dreaming' in the Occult Article section of this most humble Wyrd-Web-Site, which to cover the Inter-Species Symbiosis between the Human and that of the Plant realm. The domain of the Plant to have ruled over the globe of this planet long before the Insects to have swarmed let alone that of the Amphibians to cross over to the land to occupy, hence some of whom have Evolved in order to Communicate with other Life-forms via Chemical agents they to engineer!)
Some conglomerates are lithic - they have an abundance of large clasts composed of a variety of other rock types.
I've found some photos taken at a gig of the swedish Big Band "Lithe Blas" in Landshut last summer which are absolutely political incorrect from a point of view in 2020: No social distance on stage or in the auditory, loud brass music with funny artistic stunts, dancing, alcohol and excessive violence.
[Parent Advisory: Don't allow this to any of your children :]
***
[CF_2019-06-12_210850(R)_1R1A7475_EditCPP4(K0.8_S+1_Sch5F4S1).jpg]
Obsidian Flakes at Ayers Rock Site. The ground at this archeological site is dense with these black flakes generated by tool-makers -- what archeologists call "lithic scatter." The source of this high-quality obsidian is at Sugarloaf Mountain, about four miles away. The Native Americans who occupied this site and created pictographs on the large rock carried the obsidian here and used it to make arrowheads or spear tips. Obsidian from Sugarloaf Mountain has been found at sites throughout southern California, extending to the Pacific Coast. Coso Range. East of Coso Junction, Inyo Co., Calif.
Title
Comme tirer sur des poissons dans un tonneau
Case Study 113 :
Warning, these are the raw, bare unusual facts as originally recorded. Some names, times, places and some facts have , of course been altered.
Name: Angelica D circa 192__
Subject: an unscrupulous light-fingered body thief
Event: A Sisters of Mercy charity sponsored ball
Place: The Hamptons
Time: Warm early Spring Friday Evening
It had been a very busy 3 day working weekend for “poor” Angie, a rather handsome lady with flaming red hair, whose life during these depressive years had forced her too constantly work to sustain herself.
The joint where now Angie found herself was filled with a bevy of ladies and girls dressed up royally for the occasion, A Sisters of Mercy charity sponsored ball. The Ball’s objective was to raise funds for the good sister’s bread lines, Angie’s objective was to raise some funds of her own.
Needless to say, she did not fit in with her present environment. The reason Angie did not fit in was, although she was also dressed up in a sleekly colorful frock of her own, she was probably the only female guest to whom the term “working lady” would be an oxy-moron. Actually, it was almost as If her fellow guests sensed this, almost acting like she did not even exist. As she found out almost as soon as she had entered, two ladies were walking towards her, her, one in a long flowing lavender gown and pearls, the other in a shorter grey satin number with a bouncy skirt and decked out with enough silver trinkets to have drained a small mine. Angie nodded to them, but their noses were so held high they didn’t even see her, and the one in grey satin actually would have ran Angie over if she had not moved quicker, as it was they brushed against one another, and Angie had to actually grasp the Ladies’ wrist with the pearled bracelet,to steady herself. Angie found herself on the end of a few rather severe words of disdain as they looked back at her..
Angie just sighed to herself, and watched the pair saunter off, with a rather thoughtful look in her bright green eyes. Her left hand was clasped, playing with something she was holding in it. She then slipped that hand behind her satin sash, straighten it, she did so favor wearing slick sash’s with her silk party dresses.
It was at that moment that a pristine young lady walked by her. Looking like an escapee from a high society debutant’s coming out affair. Her lithe figure was draped in a gleaming white taffeta gown, its long layered skirt that swirled provocatively as she moved, Her elbow length gloves and purse were made of the same material as her gown. Angie’s eyes travelled up and down the passing enchantress (without moving her head), looking her over head to toe , from the spray of white flowers in her hair, to her clicking white high heels. Surprisingly the only jewelry she was wearing was a thick gold bracelet, set with rubies, as bright as the fire crackling in the mammoth fireplace by the bar.. Waiting ten seconds after the pristine miss was out of her roving eyes view, Angie turned and followed. She did not get far, a male voice called out “Sheila” and the lady was met by a rather charming appearing male of the same age, and smiling, the pair trotted off to the dance floor.
Angie hovered for a bit watching the show put on by the waltzing young couple, as well as their paired co dancers out on the almost 1 acre ballroom floor. As Angie stood watching, mesmerized by her thoughts, she first noticed the opened, wide double glass doors on the far side of the ballroom. Many of the well-dressed guests seemed to be coming and going from this newly discovered area.
It was then that a pretty young thing passed by Angie, heading towards those very same double doors. Although she carried herself well, the charming princess appeared to be a little too young to be wondering about by herself. She was definitely too young to be flitting about unescorted while wearing the costly jewels that glittered a pretty fire as she swished about on her merry way. The girl was expensively attired in an excessively glossy, purple satin blouse, a tailored black satin jacket with rhinestone buttons ,and a long silky black satin pleated skirt that fell spilling out from underneath the matching jacket ,swishing with every step of whispering silk at the heels of her black shoes. Her long soft chestnut hair done up in a long plait, with pearls interwoven throughout its length , held back by a sapphire encrusted clip, sapphires sparkled from all over ; ears, neckline, wrists and fingers, even her jacket had a sapphire brooch shaped like a waning moon. Very pretty Angie observed as the young scamp reached the double doors.
Angie, her curiosity now aroused by what lay past those doors, turned heel and with the girl as an unwary guide, followed her towards them. Now, curiosity may have killed a cat or two, but for Angie, being curious usually put food on her table. She soon discovered that the doors led out onto a wide cement patio, off of which was a rather extensive flower Garden, walled in by a rows of high green hedges. Angie watched as the last wisp of the, surprisingly still unescorted, young lady’s skirt disappeared from view into the gardens. Someone should warn her about going outside alone for walks when dressed like that ! Angie thought to herself, but before moving off with the intention of doing that very thing. But she stopped first, checking her surroundings.
The patio was home to a number of mostly occupied tables. With one exception, all the occupied tables were home to couples in groups of two to six, men in tuxes, their paramours in vibrant gowns that spread out quite nicely, spilling down rainbow like coloures from chairs to the cement floor. As Angie looked around, she observed the array of glittering jewels worn by the happily chatting women. Then Angie darted her eyes the one table that made the exception on the patio. Located in an isolated corner, that table was the only one with a lone female occupant. The occupant was resplendently dressed in a shiny mint green gown of fine satin that literally poured along the shapely curves of her seated figure, before finally splaying out around her feet like a soft, shiny pool. Her many jewels were set with majestic diamonds, especially her earrings, or at least the one Angie could see. For the ladies long hair fell over one heavily mascaraed eye, making the lady appear to be a one eye Cyclops, with an incredibly sparkling bright diamonded earing dripping from her one visible earlobe. Angie scrutinized the scene before her as she pondered a bit. Then, spying a shiny mint green purse dangling from the chair behind the Cyclops, a grin, wider than that of the Cheshire cat’s begins to spread across Angie’s handsomely sly face.
**
Why the grin like a Cheshire cat?
**
Now when a young Angie had first started on her adulthood path, she self -taught herself on how to be a pickpocket, ( body thief, and cutpurse were her preferred terms) and progressed to the point whereupon she was able to make a comfortable living.
Back then, as in the present, women of all ages were her preferred target, for several reasons:
A) Easily more distractible, especially the younger versions.
B) Silken and satiny types of dress, smoothly slick, were far more accommodating when preforming a dip or pick than trying the same maneuvers on the more unforgiving formal attire of their male counterparts.
C) Likewise the possessions of women and girls were more plentiful, and shiningly richer than those of most gentlemen.
Now, as was stated, Angie was self-taught. She did this by discreetly watching the pickpockets who worked the back streets and alleyways off of fancy theatres and dance halls in the area she grew up. She also did research by gleaning information from old newspapers and haunting the local libraries.
(See more of Angie’s background in the Album, Angie picks Chicago)
Angie especially liked the methods employed by cutpurses, and found enough success in this method that she still habitually carried a penknife with a long, finely honed, razor sharp blade. Even though she had not nicked a soft purse in a few years, she was still always up to the challenge.
**
So this, then, was the reason behind the evil grin, and the reason Angie now slipped a hand discreetly behind her colorful dress’s satin sash , extracting the finely honed folded razor, which she opened with one hand and concealed behind her back. She walked up, and looking around, let her hand holding the razor drop and allowed the blade to skim across the bottom of the purse as she walked past. She heard something tingle behind her, and then a muted gasp. Angie turned, quite a natural thing to do, noting the lady was reaching for her purse as its contents spilled out. Angie’s practiced eyes took inventory, a calf skin wallet, gold (solid!) compact, matching lipstick container, expensive tortoise shell comb, and several silky handkerchiefs had fallen out. Angie came to the ladies rescue, effectively cutting off any of the ladies at the nearby tables from doing the same. Their attention quickly turning back to their own personal business, as the rich are happily wont to do.
As the purses owner was bending down, her long hair falling totally straight down, Angie comes up and bumps into her as she leant down also. Apologizing, Angie cordially helped the lady pick up the purses’ strewn contents. Angie chats happily with the girl, easing the tension. The girl looks up into Angie’s face, thanking her, her long hair had fallen back, covering her eye, her only visible earring was swaying, still sending out showers of bright sparkles. Angie willingly accepting the young ladies gracious gratitude, before happily waltzing away, leaving the solitary lady to scratch her head over the ruined purse, as she makes sure all the rather pricey items it had contained are accounted for. Happily she discovers that nothing from her purse is missing.
Angie had not touched one item that had spilled out from the slashed bottom of the small silk purse.
For you see, Angie had graduated from being a common pickpocket of wallets and the contents of expensive purses
( as explained in the stories located the albums, Angie having a Ball @ Angie at Play).
Angie now was able to lift things far more valuable, as evidenced by the shiny diamond earring that Angie now had secreted inside the hidden pocket of her dresses’ her satin sash, the very earring that had been hidden beneath the long silky hair that had made the victim resemble a sexy Cyclops. The clasped earring had been exposed briefly as the distracted young lady had bent down to collect her scattered possession’s, and Angie’s practiced fingers had scooped it up and gently pulled it free from her earlobe, without the unsuspecting lady feeling so much as a prick..
Now Angie could have easily snatched both earrings, or had taken a necklace or bracelet along with it. But if she had, than once discovered, it would have been immediately apparent that something sinister had happened, and she would likely have been at the center point of that suspicion. But, by taking only a single piece of jewelry, it would more likely be surmised it had fallen off in the fracas, or possibly even earlier in the evening.
See Addendum SS
**
Angie left the sexy Cyclops, retreating back towards the garden. Now I wonder where the inquisitive young miss wondered off too. Someone really should warn her about going outside for a walk alone wearing all those precious jewels ,Angie thought, not really all that concerned about actually warning anyone.
Angie savored gardens and small parks with the feeling that she had done some of her best handiwork in places like that whenever they were haunted by ultra-wealthy fat cats. So it was with some great measure of pleasure that she now took to prowling this particular gardens maze of winding paths as she slowly made her get away, still open for opportunity.
As Angie meandered through the garden, passing many young couples milling about, happily eyeing the various fancily attired and jewel laden ladies that were flaunting their goods about, she remembered about being in a similar Garden not too very long ago, and the amazing luck that she had ended up having that evening.
(See Album “Angie being receptive” to read about that luck)
Angie turned a corner and saw that there was a side path almost hidden from view behind an untrimmed moss rose bush. She turned down it and found the path almost deserted. At the far end was a small alcove. Angie peered inside, it was not empty. The young miss in the purple blouse and black satin jacket and skirt, was knelling, happily admiring some small cement statues of animals she had discovered. Behind her was a small stone bench that lay before the hedge. Angie noticed that some of the hedge’s crooked branches had formed a small opening to the outside. Angie snuck behind one of the bushes that formed the inner wall of the alcove, and watched with open interest . The happily unaware girl’s sapphires glittered beckoningly, especially her sapphire pendent on its long braided silver chain that bounced on and off the front of her thick, glossy satin blouse . The girls black satin jacket was open, and the waning moon brooch was clearly visible, glittering in the lights of a nearby gas lamp. Angie flexed her fingers, waiting for an opening; it really ought to be an easy pick.
But at that very moment a dark figure came silently through the break in the outside hedge. A Gypsyish young female vagabond, wearing a slightly ragged dress with a colourful long scarf came into the pool of light , and crept up to the bench. The young lady had her back to the bench, never heard a thing, and kept on playing blissfully, unaware she now had, good or bad, uninvited company. The female vagabond only looked about a couple of years older, with a stronger figure than that of the well-dressed girl, but physically about the same size. The female vagabond sat on the bench, black eyes darting about, looking like she was being protective of the young lady in shiny satin, and even shinier sapphires.
Angie rose from her crouch; she had not been noticed, and decided to keep it that way. She carefully circled around the entrance to the alcove, without looking back. Her conscious, like most thieves, clear and unworried about the fate, good or bad, that may befall the stylishly attired rich young girl.
Actually, as she carefully snuck off, Angie’s thoughts were dwelling on how she would have distracted that pretty miss long enough to flick open the dangling silver chains clasp, and slip it and its shimmering pendent from around the high collared neckline of the accommodating slippery purple satin blouse. As she played it out, Angie almost turned back to see if somehow she could still accomplish it, it would be that easy. But she didn’t, and headed back past the moss rose bush and entered back on the main path.
Angie continued to nonchalantly prowl along the gardens long paths, staying to the outer edge she discovered several alcoves that were hidden in a similar manner to the one behind the overgrown Moss Rose bush. They all had been empty, until the fifth one she discovered, located behind a statue of a winged Hermes.
She heard the giggling first, and carefully shadowed her way around for a peek through some of the hedges branches., and what she saw made her perk right up. Angie observed a pair of young twenty something missus dressed resplendently in shiny gowns of royal blue and blood red that fluttered fetchingly as they quivered about. . Angie salivated over the copious collection fine jewels the pair was exhibiting, mesmerizingly flashing as the girls giggled in a conspiratorial fashion. All in all, Angie found it to be a most enthralling performance.
Angie watched as they sat their shiny purses(matching their gowns) on the old mossy stone bench and opened them. They began to slip off their rings and bracelets, setting them inside, than peeled off their long satin gloves( also matching their gowns, and laid them alongside. Then as they both looked around, one bent down and lifted up her long gown, revealing a black garter that held a gold cigarette case. Pulling it out, she opened it and both took a cigarette and started to smoke, giggling away the whole time at their daring. The other than looked around, and bending over lifted her long gown, her brooch dangling, and pulled a small flask from her garter! Then the both took long swigs, and started to giggle even more. In the time it took to do all this, Angie had come up with a plan of action designed to relive the young ladies of some of their finery. “Comme tirer sur des poissons dans un tonneau!” Angie murmured to herself.
She edged around till she was on the hedge directly behind the bench. At the bottom was an opening just large enough to crawl through with a little effort. Angie picked up a small stone and threw it as hard as she could at the fountain. Hearing the noise, the girls jump, and go to the entrance of the alcove to investigate, their purses and its valuable cargo momentarily unguarded. As their colorfully shimmering backs are turned, Angie reaches through and pulls one of the purses down, spilling its contents. She reached in the glittering pile and spirits away a long, serpentine bracelet, and the biggest and brightest ring she could find amongst the group. She scattered the rest liberally about and slipped back before the girls turned back.
Angie waited until their curiosity was sated, and the pair came back inside the alcove. They soon began to meander about playfully, blowing puffs of smoke into each other’s faces, laughing at themselves, as their earrings, necklaces and a fine emerald brooch sparkled ever so invitingly to Angie’s shrewd eyes.
Now for the Coup de Gras, Angie thought as she rose, and walked over to the entrance, entering the alcove with a chirpy “why hello there!” The startled princesses jumped, and twirled around, their gowns delightfully coiling and swirling along their fine sanguine figures. Quickly placing them at ease, Angie looked about, and in a co-conspirator tone asked if she could join in a smoke. The girls eagerly obliged and soon all three of them were sending rings spiraling about. Angie admired their necklaces, and they happily lifted them up for her to see,. As the gas lights touched them, the sparklers came to life, sending cascading showers of shimmering fireworks into the night. Angie’s eyes absorbed it all in as she felt a welcoming tingle wash over her, making her shiver inwardly with absolute delight. But on the outside she appeared calm, and as she commented in a rather subdued tone of voice, “ My that is pretty”, she asked the other girl her opinion. As the girl leaned inward, Angie’s fingers darted in, and cupping the girls dangling brooch in her fingers, felt and flicked open it’s clasp, working it off all in one swift motion..
As Angie stashed her brooch in a secret pocket, he other princess, not to be outdone, presented her earrings to Angie, which Angie also cordially admired, secretly acknowledging that that the one hidden in her sash was far more pretty and valuable. But not as pretty or as valuable as her dangling brooch, which Angie had just lifted.
As Angie absorbed the rich fire of the remaining glittery gems the girls wore, she wondered ( not for the first time!) what attracted her more, the jewels, or the cash they may bring. Not that it mattered at the moment, for it was time to make her exit before the pair discovered the chicanery that Angie had caused, both on the bench behind them, and from the very gowns they were wearing so very fetchingly over their svelte figures.
They gave Angie her leave, cheerfully thanking her for joining them. As she walked away, Angie reflected that it had been a bit of a sticky wicket pulling it off, but she had slammed the score so to speak, and it was with a rather upmost felling of confidence in the luck she was experiencing this evening, that she left the alcoves hidden path and started to meander her way back the way she had come, like with any good gambler, with the intention of leaving while she was ahead.
When Angie reached the path outside the statue, she was abruptly snapped out of her musings as she realized that a man was approaching her. For a second Angie was taken aback, should she retreat back up the hidden path before being noticed? . Then she recognized him, and smiled evilly to herself.
It was the man, who earlier in the evening man had swirled “Sheila” , the wayward debutante in white satin ,to the dance floor. He looked up, seeing Angie standing there. She felt his eyes checking her out, and she smiled oh so prettily for him, her mind going a mile a minute. Where could his dance partner be? The man looked back over his shoulder. Ahh, there she was, standing at a rose bush just by a curve in the path. “Sheila” looked up past Angie, and catching her boyfriend’s eye, he called out to her, promising not to be long, and passed Angie without another look, as he marched away down the path. “Sheila” turned, exposing a back covered in sleek white satin, and headed off around the bend. Angie’s eyes meanwhile had been glued on the ruby bracelet, smelling opportunity, the way a fox smells the feathers adorning a plump hen.
Angie followed at a distance, calmly awaiting the prime moment to make her move. “Sheila” traveled quite away s into the depth of the garden, eventually coming along one to an outer wall of the high hedge. At one point she turned to admire a fountain, placing a satiny white glove on its rim, the rubies around her wrist glistening like mad. Angie, darting behind a nearby bush, was able to fully study the bracelet. It was a tiffany piece, with a clasp Angie knew would not put up much effort to stay clasped around the ladies’ slender gloved wrist.
When “Sheila” moved off, Angie shadowed even closer, she now had a plan, the debutante liked water fountains. Soon enough Angie heard the gurgling that meant another was close by. It came into view, an statue of a winged Midas, water pouring out of the flute he was playing. “Sheila” stopped abruptly, and Angie began a careful approach, the young lady, still with her back to Angie, could hear nothing above the murmuring water of the fountain.
Angie came up right behind her, eyeballing the pleasing gown worn in such a fetchingly manner by her prey. The lady stepped back, coming right up against Angie, whose slipping hands did their magic. Her right arm and hand caught the young lady by the waist, steadying her as she teetered in a startled manner, looking back at what was behind her. Angie had gripped the right side, and the lady looked in that direction, her attention away from her left side, and the wrist from which her only piece of jewellery lay. Angie’s left hand reached around and found its mark. Gliding along the satiny white glove, she lifted the bracelet with practiced finger’s, two of which turned it to the clasp, snapping it open and flicking it off “Shelia’s” wrist in one, deft, synchronized effort.
Come to mama Angie purrs as she sees the bracelet land in a soft bunch of leaves under one of the rose bush’s that lined the sparkling fountain. At the same time she was accepting the young ladies apologies, Angie looked “Sheila “ directly, innocently, In the eyes, accepting her apologies graciously, and calmly told her it as no fault of hers. The young lady left, embarrassed, and Angie waited until the coast was clear and then retrieved the bracelet, securing it away, before heading back the opposite way. She had just passed the part of the path where the moss rose bush hid to the little alcove, when she saw “Sheila’s” boyfriend heading her way. she turned and darted down the path. Then remembering the miss in purple and black satin, she thought she should check in on her. Angie reached the little alcove, finding it empty, nothing of interest except that a few of the statuses were now laying on their sides.
Angie reaches the patio, and without looking about, cuts back inside. She calmly heads through the mulling crown and leaving the same way she came.
As she left, Angie decided to walk a bit before hailing a cabby. It was a rough area, but there were a few people milling about and as long as she did not go down any dark alley ways, she should remain untouched. At the thought of dark alleyways she wondered what had happened with the female vagabond that had come into the alcove.
At that moment Angie spies a familiarly dressed figure, a long fluttering black satin skirt nipping at the toes of her heels, wearing a black satin jacket with rhinestone buttons, covering a glossy purple satin blouse. The figure was walking across the street, alone.
Someone should have warned that young lady about going outside for a walk alone, dressed like she was, foolishly displaying all those precious jewels. No one obviously had, Angie smirked to herself. For the girl now wearing the outfit was the young vagabond girl. Angie hoped the rich young lady was okay,( gypsy would had only had enough time to strip the girl of her valuables ) and not catching a chill, for everything she had been wearing, right down to her silky slips, would fetch the young gypsy a handsome price.
Angie had heard stories about Victorian child strippers – unscrupulous women who would cunningly lure unsuspecting children of the well-to-do away from safety in order to strip them bare of their clothing and any other valuables they had with them. The colder the weather the better, for they would be wearing more clothes. She wondered if the gypsy looking vagabond had heard the same stories. Angie shuddered in disgust. She had morals, aside from secreting away jewelry, she would never do anything else to any victim. She looked at the young lady walking haughtily ahead of her, and she had no tolerance for someone who would!
Angie reflected for a moment as she watched the girl swish away. She was glad the she had left when she did. Once the rich scamps plight had been discovered ( as it would soon be she knew) the other guest would instinctively check over their own valuables. Angie knew of a few wealthy ladies in attendance whom would soon become frantic. Angie started to follow the gypsy girl.
The gypsy girl may have decided to wear the fancy clothes, but none of the sapphires … she was too smart to wear those openly in this part of town. Angie had noticed a small bulge in a side pocket of the jacket, and she knew what was making it.
A soft breeze came from down the street, fluttering the young ladies long hair. A gypsy wind, Angie thought, how appropriate. She closed in on the oblivious young girl, her eyes focusing on the bulging side pocket of the shiny jacket. Never before had Angie ever encountered a satiny pocket that deserved to be picked clean as this one, now almost within her reach.
Someone should warn this girl about traipsing about alone dressed like that. Not me, Angie thought unforgivingly as she prepared her fingers to make their move.
Fini?
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Addendum SS
Now, one of the observations the author of the phamplet noted was the pretty much any lady who loses a piece of jewelery while out and about will go to great lengts to justify its looss, short of someone actually stealing it from her. Broken clasp, loose fitting, melting away(in the vcase of pearls) slipped off
To the point that they will give any reason to convince themselves that its loss was accidental, and almost turn a stubbornly deaf ear that it may have been otherwise
On one occasion, soley to test his throry, he himself stood next to a lady who was lamenting the loss of a brooch. A brooch he himself had lifted from her gowns sash and still, daruingly, had about his person.
On a whim he suggested that he had seen a stranger lurking about, and wondered if he may have taken it while dancing with her.
She totally poo pooed the idea with a nervous giigle, and placing a hand with well ringed fingers onto his shoulder, said, dear, things like that simply do noy occur.
Tis inherent belief has
been the foundation for lifting a persons valuables.master pickpockets in the generations since
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Like shooting fish in a barrel
comme tirer sur des poissons dans un tonneau
Editor’s Note:
Our Thanks to Mr J. Gardner for pointing out the existence of Mr. Monescu’s 1826 guide
Here are some links to videos depicting females not unlike our Angie
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ls8rw2V1QCU&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAZdjhNVjxk&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4RbLiI9ZFQ8&authuser=0
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XZ8s-R9vl4
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
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DISCLAIMER
All rights and copyrights observed by Chatwick University, Its contributors, associates and Agents
The purpose of these chronological photos and accompanying stories, articles is to educate, teach, instruct, and generally increase the awareness level of the general public as to the nature and intent of the underlying criminal elements that have historically plagued humankind.
No Part of this can reprinted, duplicated, or copied be without the express written permission and approval of Chatwick University.
These photos and stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living or deceased, is purely coincidental.
As with any work of fiction or fantasy the purpose is for entertainment and/or educational purposes only, and should never be attempted in real life.
We accept no responsibility for any events occurring outside this website.
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Strobist: Speedlights at 9 and 3 o'clock, long shutter, with manually triggered cactus v5 radio slaves to approximate rear curtain sync.
A Typic Haplogypsid, petrogypsic from the interior of the UAE.
Typic Haplogypsids are the Haplogypsids that do not have have a gypsic horizon with its upper boundary within 18 cm of the soil surface. These soils do not have a lithic contact within 50 cm of the soil surface. In the United States they occur in Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico.
The gypsic horizon is a horizon in which gypsum has accumulated or been transformed to a significant extent (secondary gypsum (CaSO 4) has accumulated through more than 150 mm of soil, so that this horizon contains at least 5% more gypsum than the underlying horizon). It typically occurs as a subsurface horizon, but it may occur at the surface in some soils.
This pedon has a petrogypsic horizon at a depth of 100 to 200 cm and is identified as a "phase" in classification. In the UAE soil classification system, phases of soil taxa have been developed for those mineral soils that have soil properties or characteristics that occur at a deeper depth than currently identified for an established taxonomic subgroup or soil properties that effect interpretations not currently recognized at the subgroup level. The phases which have been identified in the UAE include: anhydritic, aquic, calcic, gypsic, lithic, petrocalcic, petrogypsic, salic, salidic, shelly, and sodic.
The petrogypsic horizon is a horizon in which visible secondary gypsum has accumulated or has been transformed. The horizon is cemented (i.e., extremely weakly through indurated cementation classes), and the cementation is both laterally continuous and root limiting, even when the soil is moist. Th e horizon typically occurs as a subsurface horizon, but it may occur at the surface in some soils.
Haplogypsids are the Gypsids that have no petrogypsic, natric, argillic, or calcic horizon that has an upper boundary within 100 cm of the soil surface. Some Haplogypsids have a cambic horizon overlying the gypsic horizon. These soils are commonly very pale in color. They are not extensive in the United States. The largest concentrations in the United States are in New Mexico and Texas. The soils are more common in other parts of the world.
Gypsids are the Aridisols that have a gypsic or petrogypsic horizon within 100 cm of the soil surface. Accumulation of gypsum takes place initially as crystal aggregates in the voids of the soils. These aggregates grow by accretion, displacing the enclosing soil material. When the gypsic horizon occurs as a cemented impermeable layer, it is recognized as the petrogypsic horizon. Each of these forms of gypsum accumulation implies processes in the soils, and each presents a constraint to soil use. One of the largest constraints is dissolution of the gypsum, which plays havoc with structures, roads, and irrigation delivery systems. The presence of one or more of these horizons, with or without other diagnostic horizons, defines the great groups of the Gypsids. Gypsids occur in Iraq, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Somalia, West Asia, and some of the most arid areas of the western part of the United States. Gypsids are on many segments of the landscape. Some of them have calcic or related horizons that overlie the gypsic horizon.
For more information about describing soils, visit:
www.nrcs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/nrcs142p2_052523...
For additional information about soil classification using Soil Taxonomy, visit:
sites.google.com/site/dinpuithai/Home
For more information about soil classification using the UAE Keys to Soil Taxonomy, visit:
agrifs.ir/sites/default/files/United%20Arab%20Emirates%20...
(looking upstream)
---------------------------------
The left creek bank has an outcrop of the Maxville Limestone (Mississippian), plus rubble eroded from it. Fluvial quartz-lithic sand deposits are present along the right shores of the creek. Gravel bars along this creek have pebbles and cobbles of Maxville Limestone & siliciclastic sedimentary rocks derived from upstream outcrops of the Waverly Group (Lower Mississippian) & limestone, chert, and shale derived from upstream and uphill Pennsylvanian-aged outcrops. Scarce clasts of crystalline basement rocks from Canada are also present (derived from Ohio's Pleistocene glacial deposits).
Observed fauna in the creek include small water striders, whirligig beetles, Corbicula sp. Asian river clams (= introduced/pest species), a Lasmigona costa freshwater mussel ("fluted shell"), and trails made by Pleurocera semicarinata freshwater snails.
Locality: Jonathan Run (view from Workman Road bridge), north-northwest of the town of Fultonham, southwestern Muskingum County, eastern Ohio, USA
This week I tried to capture the same object, but in two different ways. I took this photo of the chives plant in the garden. I noticed the curly end of a stem and thought it looked interesting against the background.
For the 'Macro Mondays' - 'Herbs and Spices’ challenge 20th April 2015.
These photos were taken 9 months ago, in July 2022.
A few months ago I started a page on Instagram where I post a limited number of my footwear photos. Posting them quickly on Instagram makes it possible for you to view them without having to wait months for them to appear here.
My username on Instagram is onlymeknow9876 My name there is Stupid Me
I will, as I have time, continue to post the full collection, including the photos put up on Instagram.
I've always liked Merrell's shoes. I had a pair of similar Merrell "Barefoot" shoes, very thin soles, no heel lift, loads of ground feel, for a few years, but didn't wear them too often. But then a friend said that was the only shoes he ever wore.
So, I bought several other pair. I've already posted photos of a couple of the other pair, but I think these are my favorite. They feel the lightest, thinnest of any of them.
However the toes on this pair have come unglued (and the glue is showing signd of failure elsewhere). While here the toes were just beginning to come loose, by now, 9 months later, the toes are completely loose and dangling. I tried holding them in place with loops of tape, but they kept coming loose. So, now I'm letting them dangle, and sometimes folding underneath as I walk.
I think I'll let this pair just fall apart. At some point, the toes will break off, and toe holes will develop in the very thin midsoles (there are no insoles). All the better, I'll wear them like that.
From the museum label: The lithe body of Christ is suspended on a tall, slender cross in a misty dawn landscape. The Sun and Moon on either side symbolise the eclipse that occurred at his death. Angels catch his blood in chalices, similar to those used for the wine of the Mass. The letters I.N.R.I. stand for the Latin lesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum (Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews). The Virgin and John the Evangelist catch our eye, wringing their hands in discrete sorrow. Kneeling are Mary Magdalene and Saint Jerome, the early Christian theologian who translated the Bible into Latin, and the sole character depicted who was not at the Crucifixion. This was the altarpiece for a burial chapel dedicated to Jerome in San Domenico, Città di Castello.
Link to other Raphael paintings
These photos were taken 9 months ago, in July 2022.
A few months ago I started a page on Instagram where I post a limited number of my footwear photos. Posting them quickly on Instagram makes it possible for you to view them without having to wait months for them to appear here.
My username on Instagram is onlymeknow9876 My name there is Stupid Me
I will, as I have time, continue to post the full collection, including the photos put up on Instagram.
I've always liked Merrell's shoes. I had a pair of similar Merrell "Barefoot" shoes, very thin soles, no heel lift, loads of ground feel, for a few years, but didn't wear them too often. But then a friend said that was the only shoes he ever wore.
So, I bought several other pair. I've already posted photos of a couple of the other pair, but I think these are my favorite. They feel the lightest, thinnest of any of them.
However the toes on this pair have come unglued (and the glue is showing signd of failure elsewhere). While here the toes were just beginning to come loose, by now, 9 months later, the toes are completely loose and dangling. I tried holding them in place with loops of tape, but they kept coming loose. So, now I'm letting them dangle, and sometimes folding underneath as I walk.
I think I'll let this pair just fall apart. At some point, the toes will break off, and toe holes will develop in the very thin midsoles (there are no insoles). All the better, I'll wear them like that.
Phil Harding (left) is on site to provide expert advice. Polythene sheets provide the site with protection from the rain.
These photos were taken 9 months ago, in July 2022.
A few months ago I started a page on Instagram where I post a limited number of my footwear photos. Posting them quickly on Instagram makes it possible for you to view them without having to wait months for them to appear here.
My username on Instagram is onlymeknow9876 My name there is Stupid Me
I will, as I have time, continue to post the full collection, including the photos put up on Instagram.
I've always liked Merrell's shoes. I had a pair of similar Merrell "Barefoot" shoes, very thin soles, no heel lift, loads of ground feel, for a few years, but didn't wear them too often. But then a friend said that was the only shoes he ever wore.
So, I bought several other pair. I've already posted photos of a couple of the other pair, but I think these are my favorite. They feel the lightest, thinnest of any of them.
However the toes on this pair have come unglued (and the glue is showing signd of failure elsewhere). While here the toes were just beginning to come loose, by now, 9 months later, the toes are completely loose and dangling. I tried holding them in place with loops of tape, but they kept coming loose. So, now I'm letting them dangle, and sometimes folding underneath as I walk.
I think I'll let this pair just fall apart. At some point, the toes will break off, and toe holes will develop in the very thin midsoles (there are no insoles). All the better, I'll wear them like that.
Multi-purpose cobble tool (hammerstone, anvil, chopper) found on the surface of an Unangan (Aleut) site on Kiska Island. Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge.
Lithic breccia from the Quaternary of Ohio, USA. (8.5 cm across at its widest, near the bottom of the photo)
Sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of loose sediments. Loose sediments become hard rocks by the processes of deposition, burial, compaction, dewatering, and cementation.
There are three categories of sedimentary rocks:
1) Siliciclastic sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments produced by weathering & erosion of any previously existing rocks.
2) Biogenic sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments that were once-living organisms (plants, animals, micro-organisms).
3) Chemical sedimentary rocks form by the solidification of sediments formed by inorganic chemical reactions. Most sedimentary rocks have a clastic texture, but some are crystalline.
Breccia is an uncommon, coarse-grained, siliciclastic sedimentary rock. Breccias form in many ways (sedimentary breccias, volcanic breccias, tectonic breccias/fault breccias, collapse breccias, boiling breccias, hydrothermal breccias, xenolith breccias, seismite breccias, injectite breccias, etc.), but they all have the same general appearance. Sedimentary breccias contain a mix of large & small grains. The large grains (gravel - pebbles or cobbles or boulders) are angular to subangular in shape, and they are surrounded by a finer-grained matrix, usually sand or mud.
The juvenile breccia shown above is principally composed of clasts eroded from Illinoian-aged glacial till (= Middle Pleistocene). The blackish-colored rock is flint (= chert). The clasts have become cemented without subsequent significant burial.
Age: Late Pleistocene or Holocene
Locality: Taft Reserve, western Flint Ridge, southeastern Licking County, east-central Ohio, USA
These photos were taken 9 months ago, in July 2022.
A few months ago I started a page on Instagram where I post a limited number of my footwear photos. Posting them quickly on Instagram makes it possible for you to view them without having to wait months for them to appear here.
My username on Instagram is onlymeknow9876 My name there is Stupid Me
I will, as I have time, continue to post the full collection, including the photos put up on Instagram.
I've always liked Merrell's shoes. I had a pair of similar Merrell "Barefoot" shoes, very thin soles, no heel lift, loads of ground feel, for a few years, but didn't wear them too often. But then a friend said that was the only shoes he ever wore.
So, I bought several other pair. I've already posted photos of a couple of the other pair, but I think these are my favorite. They feel the lightest, thinnest of any of them.
However the toes on this pair have come unglued (and the glue is showing signd of failure elsewhere). While here the toes were just beginning to come loose, by now, 9 months later, the toes are completely loose and dangling. I tried holding them in place with loops of tape, but they kept coming loose. So, now I'm letting them dangle, and sometimes folding underneath as I walk.
I think I'll let this pair just fall apart. At some point, the toes will break off, and toe holes will develop in the very thin midsoles (there are no insoles). All the better, I'll wear them like that.
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80's and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul's is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer - couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I'll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch - the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn't seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one's eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey - on sale, of course - for good measure.
I'm sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I've been verily impressed with what I've seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace - his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold - 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I've had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket - if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That's how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating - the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned - China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one's mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn't as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus' resurrection at the St. Andrew's Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that's what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 - what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that's Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde's Wherry, I've had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp's DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history - the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering - and photographing - into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I've seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white - the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city's love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I'm nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba - repeated in clever variants - and parodies of other masters' works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson - I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge - for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn't dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we've grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere - London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn't add up for me.
I'm in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street - yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle - they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air - fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I'm leaving on a jet plane this evening; don't know when I'll be back in England again. I'll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I'm grateful for God's many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley's home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine - I'm happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley's home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display - I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson's house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn't stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen's take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies - I got no game - booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn't make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That's all for England!
A civet /ˈsɪvɪt/ is a small, lithe-bodied, mostly nocturnal mammal native to tropical Asia and Africa, especially the tropical forests. The term civet applies to over a dozen different mammal species. Most of the species diversity is found in southeast Asia. The best-known civet species is the African civet, Civettictis civetta,[1] which historically has been the main species from which was obtained a musky scent used in perfumery. The word civet may also refer to the distinctive musky scent produced by the animals'
Kopi luwak (Indonesian pronunciation: [ˈkopi ˈlu.aʔ]), or civet coffee, is coffee that includes partially digested coffee cherries, eaten and defecated by the Asian palm civet (Paradoxurus hermaphroditus).[1] Fermentation occurs as the cherries pass through a civet's intestines, and after being defecated with other fecal matter, they are collected.
Producers of the coffee beans argue that the process may improve coffee through two mechanisms, selection – civets choosing to eat only certain cherries – and digestion – biological or chemical mechanisms in the animal's digestive tract altering the composition of the coffee cherries.
The traditional method of collecting feces from wild civets has given way to intensive farming methods in which civets in battery cage systems are force-fed the cherries. This method of production has raised ethical concerns about the treatment of civets due to "horrific conditions" including isolation, poor diet, small cages and a high mortality rate.
Although kopi luwak is a form of processing rather than a variety of coffee, it has been called one of the most expensive coffees in the world, with retail prices reaching €550 / US$700 per kilogram.
Kopi luwak is produced mainly on the islands of Sumatra, Java, Bali and Sulawesi in the Indonesian Archipelago. It is also widely gathered in the forest or produced in the farms in the islands of the Philippines (where the product is called kape motit in the Cordillera region, kapé alamíd in Tagalog areas, kapé melô or kapé musang in Mindanao island, and kahawa kubing in the Sulu Archipelago), and in East Timor (where it is called kafé-laku). Weasel coffee is a loose English translation of its Vietnamese name cà phê Chồu.
Wikipedia
Volcanic lithic sandstone (right background) over basalt lava flows (left & center) in the Precambrian of Minnesota, USA.
Along the northern shore of western Lake Superior are numerous exposures of a lava flow-dominated succession called the North Shore Volcanic Group. This is equivalent to & the same age as the Portage Lake Volcanic Series of northern Michigan's Keweenaw Peninsula (www.flickr.com/photos/jsjgeology/albums/72157632266738191). The North Shore and Portage Lake successions are ~1.1 billion years old and represent basalt lava flows, plus minor sedimentary rocks, that filled up an ancient rift valley. This old rift is the Lake Superior segment of the Mid-Continent Rift System, a tear in the ancient North American paleocontinent of Laurentia (see: minerals.usgs.gov/science/midcontinent-rift-minerals/imag...). Tectonic rifting started along this tear, exactly like the modern-day East African Rift Valley. Laurentia's Mid-Continent Rift System started and then stopped and was subsequently filled and buried. This ancient failed rift is now exposed on either side of Lake Superior in North America's Great Lakes.
The outcrop shown above consists of basalt lava flows (left & center) and an interflow sandstone (right background). The sandstone represents sediment deposition by rivers in the ancient rift valley during pauses in effusive volcanic activity. The grains making up the sandstone are, not surprisingly, volcanic rock fragments. The lava flows are part of the Leif Ericson Park Lavas, which consist of basalt, basaltic andesite, and icelandite (= ferro-andesite) (Miller et al., 2001).
Stratigraphy: Leif Ericson Park Lavas, Upper Southwest Sequence, North Shore Volcanic Group, Keweenawan Supergroup, upper Mesoproterozoic, ~1098 to 1099 Ma
Locality: Lake Superior shoreline exposure in Leif Ericson Park, just northeast of the city of Duluth, northeastern Minnesota, USA
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Reference cited:
Miller et al. (2001) - Geologic map of the Duluth Complex and related rocks, northeastern Minnesota. Minnesota Geological Survey Miscellaneous Map Series M-119.
These guys will cut your hair with a lithic (stone) razor and they'll wear those pelt loincloths. Hairdressers in the Hairspray Salon Float.
Scraper Knives - "PALEO TOOLS: The kinds of tools used by the Paleoindians can tell us much about their way of life. Most of the tools surviving today are made of stone. Spear points, knives, drills, and scrapers are typical Paleoindian artifacts. They were used for a variety of tasks, including hunting and butchering animals, processing plants, and working raw materials to make other tools. Archaeological sites of the Paleoindians contain mostly chipped stone tools and waste flakes left from the manufacturing process. However it is almost certain that these people made wide use of other raw materials including bone, wood, ivory, and antler. Objects made of these materials do not preserve as well as stone and have likely decayed over the past 10,000 years. Springs, sinkholes and deep river beds offer good conditions for preserving organic materials because of their high mineral content and lack of oxygen. Fragments of bone, wood, and other plant remains will give clues to future archaeologists who research the skills that Paleoindians needed to survive in Ice Age Florida. " ~ Display at the Florida Museum of Natural History. (Photo 091712-013.jpg) Paleoindians section of the Division of Historical Resources - Florida Museum of History - Where I used to work - September 17, 2012: A Walk Down Memory Lane - revisiting College Town - Tallahassee, Florida. (c) 2012 - photography by Leaf McGowan, Thomas Baurley, Eadaoin Bineid - technogypsie.com. To purchase this photo or to obtain permission to use, go to www.technogypsie.com/photography/
"PALEOINDIANS: The earliest people who inhabited North America are called Paleoindians. They came to Florida during the end of the last Ice Age, at least 12,000 years ago. Their way of life lasted for about 2,500 years. Archaeologists have found few Paleoindian sites. If, as it seems likely, these early people lived along the coast of Florida, their settlements have been covered by the rising sea level. Compared to later Florida Indian cultures, Paleoindians lived in small, widely dispersed groups. Their artifacts are often found around outcrops of a flint-like rock called chert. Pieces of chert were chipped, or knapped, to make stone tools. Paleoindian artifacts are also found in springs, sinkholes and rivers that were probably ancient waterholes. These were important sources of fresh water in an otherwise dry landscape.
PALEO TIMELINE: 12,000 B.P. to 9,500 B.P. (Before present) - EARLY PALEO PERIOD: 12,000-10,000 BP - Simpson point on mammoth ivory foreshaft (circa 11,500 BP) - First evidence of people on the Florida peninsula, Paleoindians live a semi-nomadic life, hunt big game like mastadon, climate was drier than today, and sea level is more than 100 feet lower than today. - Bison antiguns skull with embedded spearpoint, Wacissa River (circa 11,000 BP).
LATE PALEO PERIOD: 10,000 to 9500 BP - stone bola weight (circa 10,000 BP) had most big game animals extinct, wetter climate prevails, sea level rises gradually, several new styles of stone points appear, like the side notched bolan point. " ~ Display in the Florida Museum of Natural History.
For more information visit:
Paleoindians: www.technogypsie.com/science/?p=939 (expected publication December 2012)
Tallahassee: www.technogypsie.com/reviews/?p=5093 (Expected publication November 2012)
Florida: www.technogypsie.com/reviews/?p=5079 (Expected Publication December 2012)
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