I'll be adding a copy of my true story here in a short while. It is with each photo in this set; so no matter which picture you click on you can read the story.

A longer true story than my usual ones is below the row of asterisks.

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FALL OCCURRED IN THE SPRING

That’s right; fall occurred in the spring of 2012. Not the kind of fall like a beautiful autumn, but the kind of fall like Humpty Dumpty. The “splat” type of fall, which must have been painful for him. Mine was surely painful for me.

Let me digress a bit. I already have severe arthritis in both of my knees. I was very close to having the Orthopedic Physician’s Assistant refer me to the Orthopedist for knee replacements. The assistant had already seen me for seven to nine visits or so, and a series of Orthovisc® shots, which did not help me. I understand they are a great help to some people, but I wasn‘t one of them. He told me something I was completely unaware of. He said my teeth were bad, which is true. I have upper dentures and only one real tooth in my mouth. The bottom teeth except the one I just mentioned are all rotted away. They didn’t rot completely away; there are still parts of them in and below the gum line. He said they would all have to be surgically extracted before I could have knee replacements done. I asked him, “What do my teeth have to do with my knees?” He said infection can easily set in the rotten teeth and go to the knee or cause problems with my heart, major problems like death. Thus the reader can understand how I arrived at the title for my photo set about my hospital stay…The Knee Bone’s Connected to the Jaw Bone, Huh?

I have been walking around with very painful knees for quite awhile now, and I cannot afford the $1,600 to $2,000 to have my teeth surgically extracted. I already paid a dentist $180 for an appointment and a Panaray® X-Ray, over a year ago, just thinking it would be nice to finally get some lower dentures too. I never did get them. He split town, taking or disposing of his equipment and his files and x-rays. That $180 is long gone for me. I cannot even recover that old x-ray. Even if I did recover it, some new dentist would probably say it was out of date.

Medicare, which I am on, will pay for the two knee replacements, but here is the rub. They will not pay for dental. I have been in a surgical limbo with all the free pain I can stand.

That is the background information probably needed for this little story to be understood. There will be some OMG moments and some laughter. If it were a TV show, they would probably advertise, “You’ll Laugh; You’ll Cry; You’ll Sell Your Chickens; You’ll Call Your Congressman, and You’ll No Doubt Charge Your Cell Phone!”

That brings us to Thursday the 15th of March, 2012. (Beware the Ides of March). My daughter called to see if I could and would watch Rose all day Friday the 16th , as she had forgotten that she had signed up to be chaperone for her daughter, Anna Leigh’s, school field trip. It was going to be quite a bit out of town, the other direction from where I live. It was to be a special day. I wanted to be their hero; so I said sure. Some of you have seen Rose, the Hungarian Vizsla puppy among my photos. Rose is beautiful and young, and strong, and undisciplined and should probably be named Wild Rose. I love her, but she is a major handful. I had already watched her for 8 days while they went on a trip out of state, got one day off and then volunteered to do Friday the 16th.

Rose isn’t housebroken yet; so I took her out several times to encourage her to go outside. I was alone as far as other humans, and my daughter and granddaughter were about 60 miles away, on a school bus and then museum field trip. I live about 60 miles the other way from their home. It had been raining off and on and the ground and grass and driveway and mud were all pretty wet. My other trips outside with Rose that morning had been fine. I only had a thin shirt on, no extra shirt or jacket. I did not think I would be out in the yard very long.

Rose pulled on the leash too exuberantly, as she does often (she is five and a half months old, and has had puppy obedience training, but is in dire need of more of it). I slipped on a muddy and grassy slope. My right leg went out in front of me, and I fell on my rear end. My left leg folded underneath my thigh and toward my rear, and my weight, which is a lot, crunched it. It was bent backward way further than a knee is supposed to bend. I screamed bloody murder. I was afraid to even try to get up, as I thought I had probably torn a ligament or two.

Rose thought it was play time and was all over me. There was not a thing in sight that would give me any leverage to hold me up or to help me get up. I sat and I pondered what to do. My daughter and Anna Leigh would not be home for nearly 6 more hours. I thought, well I’ll just call 911 (the emergency number where we live). Wrong! No cell phone with me. It was inside their house, being charged up; ironically so it would be ready when I needed it.

I tried yelling for help. Nothing! A neighbor about a half an acre away, was mowing, and every time the mower cut off, I tried screaming for help. He must have had headphones on or something. Cars would drive by on the road way down the driveway, and I would yell, but no one had their windows down on that day. Did you know that when you have upper dentures and no lower ones, and you yell really hard, that it blows the upper dentures right out of your mouth? When I tried to hang onto them to keep them in my mouth, I was unable to cry out very loudly. I just thought I would throw that little trivia in. I didn’t know until that day.

I knew I couldn’t make it back in the house. There were too many upward slopes and an exposed aggregate patio and a few stairs. The front of the house was even worse, as it had more stairs. I looked down the driveway and saw a vehicle which had some metal protrusions, on the order of spare tire holder or something like that. I decided to try to scoot on my rear down to that metal thing. I thought perhaps it would give me leverage to get up. Rose thought that it was great fun to romp on and around me.

I thought the four chickens would be afraid to come around Rose. No, they are not very intelligent. They came right up to me and Rose and started pecking on me. I had never been pecked on my chickens before, and there I was on the ground with no help and Rose alternating between trying to attack the chickens and trying to play with me. Rose’s playfulness sort of resembles an attack, anyway. I scooted faster, much faster.

There was a light rain, but it was getting a little heavier. There was also a dusting of snow mixed with the rain. I was wondering how long it would take to get Exposure. I was wondering about Shock also. Can a person who has Exposure or Shock know that they have it? Ominous looking clouds were blowing quickly toward me. It was 1:30 P. M. when I fell. I didn’t have my phone, but I had my watch.

I scooted methodically toward the vehicle closest to me. I think it was about 100 feet. I got to it, and thought if worse came to worse with the weather, I could roll under the back of it. I did not relish thought of cold dark ground and spiders, but thought it might be better to risk them than the weather. I saw some wide strapping tape on the spare tire, which was loose. I didn’t want to risk hoisting myself up on the spare and its frame, as it was quite loose. But I took the tape and wrapped it around the metal thing that was separate from the spare tire things, and made it softer for my arm to lean on. I tried to prop myself up. No use; I fell back down. Not enough leverage. I put Rose’s leash handle on the trailer hitch. I didn’t want to just let her run free and maybe get hit by a car.

I tried again to get up and made it to both knees. It hurt so badly I went back down again. I noticed the license plate on the vehicle renewed on the ninth month of 2011. That said 911. I thought, “Oh yeah right, you inanimate license plate. Go ahead and taunt me! You know I can’t call 911.” I got a chuckle out of my own joke, and gave myself a figurative pat on the back for being resourceful about trying to get up.

I tried again. I got on both knees but the right one was in gravel that really hurt. Then I thought which knee should I put forward and which one should I try to rise on. I tried one, and it didn’t seem as if it would work so I tried the other way. That wasn’t the right way either. Finally I tried the first way again. I told myself on the count of three I would stand up, even if it hurt excruciatingly, I would scream but I would still get up. False start! Down again! I tried again and got up. I was standing!

Now was the problem of how to go anywhere, not knowing if my left knee would buckle at any time. I thought I had to try. I spotted my own truck further down the driveway, and decided to try to make it to it. I walked between two vehicles very carefully and slowly and got to my truck. I unlocked it with the remote key which I had in my pocket. After 11 years of driving it, the seat is pretty well conformed to me; so I didn’t have to bend my knees to sit down in it. I just leaned into the seat and put my relatively good right leg in. It was painful to bend my left knee to get it in the truck, but I did. Rose was still tied to a trailer hitch further back in the yard, but she was safe.

I looked at my watch. It was 3:30 P. M. It took me two hours to stand up and to get to some degree of safety and warmth. I could drive, as my truck is automatic. I drove down the road to a house that Anna had pointed out was where a schoolmate lived. I thought I could ask them to go in my daughter’s house and get my cell phone for me. There was a very large barking dog in the driveway, and no sign of humans, and the mother of the schoolmate has never even met me. I decided to go back to Jennifer’s home.

I found a cane in my truck that a charity, a different one than the one later in my story, had given me a few months ago. It is not a very sturdy one, but better than nothing. I did not use it on a regular basis. I used the hook end of it to fetch a large stick lying near the driveway (larger than a normal hiking stick). I pulled it to me, and stood back up out of the truck and used the big stick and the cane and balanced against two vehicles, and decided to try to get back in the house. I did. I got in the recliner and pulled a blanket up over me and slept until they got home.

After they got home, we all decided to go to the nearest Emergency room. It was a Friday night by then, and no normal doctor’s hours. We went to one closest to them, but it was still about 27 miles or so. They checked me out and did an x-ray. I told the Physician’s assistant nurse type lady about my knee history. She was fun and nice and caring and a little bit of a comedienne. She said that my left knee was really “ratty” looking on the x-ray. I laughed, because I’m sure it was. I have just never, in all my doctor visits ever had a nurse refer to one of my body parts as “ratty”. I suspect it is not a medical term. They said I sprained my knee, and gave me some medical records to take up to the emergency room (or my doctor) closer to where I live, seventeen miles from my home, the other direction from Jen & Anna. I wanted to be closer to the doctors and hospital that I know. I was given a prescription similar to Vicodin. Someone kindly pointed out that Walgreen’s was visible about a block away and their drive-thru was open. At that point I was still getting around by hobbling and by leaning on Jennifer. So I sat in a chair and she and Anna and Rose drove over to Walgreen’s . It seems as if it took a long time for them get the prescription filled.

While I was sitting there waiting, a employee came out to the lobby with clipboard in hand and asked if I were the lady with an injured knee. I replied that I was. She said, OK, come with me and we’ll have you see a triage. I thought it odd that I had already been seen and now they wanted to start all over again. I told her I had already been seen and x-rayed and all. It turned out there was another lady in the waiting room with an injured knee. It probably would have blown the Physician’s Assistant’s mind if I had played dumb and gone through everything again, and then told her when she looked shocked, “I’m coming through again; and this time don’t call my knee “ratty! Funny to imagine, but not a good idea.

Finally, my daughter and granddaughter returned to the hospital waiting room. Jennifer had forgotten her checkbook. So back they went and then it turned out, Jennifer couldn’t sign for my prescription, and she didn‘t have my insurance information. Thus, we all drove back over there. I was in line ahead of Jen‘s car. I told the pharmacist that my window did not go down well on the driver’s side, and I could not reach the pills in the drawer. So I would give him paperwork and cards he needed, but to please leave the pills themselves in the slide-out drawer. I said my daughter was right behind me and her window worked; and she would pick them up with my permission. Walgreen’s closed at 10 P. M. and it was about 9:57 P. M. Finally she got the pain pills in the drawer, but when we got out of Walgreen’s I flagged her down to stop and be sure to give me the pills to have with me before we forgot. Jennifer got them and handed them over to me. We laughed about how, at that time of night, it looked for the entire world like some sort of illegal drug deal.

We tried to go out for dinner, and the restaurant we chose put the closed sign in their front window as we were approaching. That always makes one feel so welcome, not!

Saturday, I rested, and then Sunday they took me to Good Samaritan Regional Medical Center. I had called my normal doctor, and he was out of the country (probably on some Doctors without Borders type thing). He participates in many good will efforts. The doctor filling in for him said to go to the Emergency Room. So I did, and they did an MRI, and I had torn the meniscus in my left knee. I ended up in the hospital for 8 days. No surgery was done to repair anything, because of the dental situation. But I got a walker, and some really nice nurses and physical therapy. I saw all kinds of doctors, and Home Health care people, and Senior and Disabled specialists. They must have taken my blood pressure 100 times, it seems. They always seem surprised that it is very good.

Anna Leigh, who is seven years old, threw a coin in the Hospital Fountain and made good wishes for me. She is such a sweetie. My daughter helped to clean up my place so when I went home the walker would fit through the rooms. I don’t know what I do without Jen and Anna. The first few days out of the hospital, I taught Anna how to play Monopoly, and she and Jennifer and I also did puzzles. There were some quality family moments. At one point I was eating a chip or cracker of some kind with my right hand, and trying to place a puzzle piece with my left hand. I got absentminded and stuck the puzzle piece in my mouth. I realized what I had done because the food tasted like cardboard. I took it out of my mouth. Anna about went into hysterics over it. I was laughing too. Anna’s Daddy called Jen about that time, and wanted to know what the laughter was all about. Anna wrote a note to show her Mom so her Mom could tell her Dad what happened. She spelled it phonetically, as she is only in first grade. I think she does really well, but Jen and I cracked up over how much Anna was laughing and over what she wrote. She wrote, “My grandmuther ate a pussel pees.” It looked substantially nastier than it was. Jen and I were cracking up about the note. Anna thought we were still laughing about the event itself, not the note. In any case, we all had some great belly laughs. Since the belly bone is no doubt connected to the brain bone and the knee bone, I think it was very healthy for us.

At first a physical therapist helped me in the hospital with a walker and with some small steps. After a few days, I could roam around the hallways on my own with the walker. At that point I took my camera. As I was practicing with my walker I took a number of pictures. I tried very hard to only shoot artsy type things and nothing about any patients or doctors that would invade their privacy. I had a bulletin board in my room just about me. I wrote “Exemplary Patient Award” on the comments. I wanted to see if it would make the nurses laugh. I thought it was funny to give myself an award. I enjoy making people laugh. I was curious if they would erase it, but it was still there when I was discharged.

I graduated from the walker to a cane yesterday. A home health physical therapist came to see how I was doing, and brought me a very colorful cane. I like it. It suits me, and it is brand new. There is a charity in my area called Love, Inc. I don’t know if it is just local or nationwide. Anyway, they gave him the cane to bring to me. Really super! Of course, I need to take a photo of it, and add it to this set. I’ll probably do that in the daylight.

I am still in surgical limbo, but a charity is going to come out and install grab bars on my shower, and still another charity will build up my recliner (which I sleep in) with a platform so it will be easier to get in and out of. It was suggested that I donate enough to cover the cost of the supplies but not the labor. I will probably make a donation, but I haven’t decided how much yet. I’m going to call my Congressman to see if something can be done about covering some dental procedures. I know him personally. He collects vintage cars, and has at least one Dodge and well over 10 Buicks. When I had a hubcap store, he would drop by and buy hubcaps for some of them. We would chat about politics, and automobiles, and high rent, etc. He probably won‘t be able to help, but I feel I have to try. Not just for me, but for a multitude of people.

I’ll close with a quote, although I don’t know who said it, “Be True to your Teeth and they will Never be False to You.” and “That is the Tooth, the whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth.”

(IMG_1514drapesinhospitalsevtechsresam)

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death are a series of nineteen (twenty were originally constructed) intricately designed dollhouse-style dioramas created by Frances Glessner Lee (1878–1962), a pioneer in forensic science. Glessner Lee used her inheritance to establish a department of legal medicine at Harvard Medical School in 1936, and donated the first of the Nutshell Studies in 1946 for use in lectures on the subject of crime scene investigation. In 1966, the department was dissolved, and the dioramas went to the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office in Baltimore, Maryland, U.S. where they are on permanent loan and still used for forensic seminars.

The dioramas are detailed representations of death scenes that are composites of actual cases, created by Glessner Lee on a 1 inch to 1 foot (1:12) scale. She attended autopsies to ensure accuracy, and her attention to detail extended to having a wall calendar include the pages after the month of the incident, constructing openable windows, and wearing out-of-date clothing to obtain realistically worn fabric. The dioramas show tawdry and, in many cases, disheveled living spaces very different from Glessner Lee's own background. The dead include prostitutes and victims of domestic violence.

Glessner Lee called them the Nutshell Studies because the purpose of a forensic investigation is said to be to "convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell." Students were instructed to study the scenes methodically—Glessner Lee suggested moving the eyes in a clockwise spiral—and draw conclusions from the visual evidence. At conferences hosted by Glessner Lee, prominent crime-scene investigators were given 90 minutes to study each diorama.

A fox sparrow preens its flight feathers, using its tail feathers as a comb. It methodically ran its tail through each wing feather, one by one, and then did the other wing.

wrhstol.com/2o8lsat

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death are a series of nineteen (twenty were originally constructed) intricately designed dollhouse-style dioramas created by Frances Glessner Lee (1878–1962), a pioneer in forensic science. Glessner Lee used her inheritance to establish a department of legal medicine at Harvard Medical School in 1936, and donated the first of the Nutshell Studies in 1946 for use in lectures on the subject of crime scene investigation. In 1966, the department was dissolved, and the dioramas went to the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office in Baltimore, Maryland, U.S. where they are on permanent loan and still used for forensic seminars.

The dioramas are detailed representations of death scenes that are composites of actual cases, created by Glessner Lee on a 1 inch to 1 foot (1:12) scale. She attended autopsies to ensure accuracy, and her attention to detail extended to having a wall calendar include the pages after the month of the incident, constructing openable windows, and wearing out-of-date clothing to obtain realistically worn fabric. The dioramas show tawdry and, in many cases, disheveled living spaces very different from Glessner Lee's own background. The dead include prostitutes and victims of domestic violence.

Glessner Lee called them the Nutshell Studies because the purpose of a forensic investigation is said to be to "convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell." Students were instructed to study the scenes methodically—Glessner Lee suggested moving the eyes in a clockwise spiral—and draw conclusions from the visual evidence. At conferences hosted by Glessner Lee, prominent crime-scene investigators were given 90 minutes to study each diorama.

There will be a story with this set as soon as I can get it written, and upload these pictures which I took while in the Hospital at Good Samaritan Regional Medical Center in Corvallis, Oregon.

FALL OCCURRED IN THE SPRING

That’s right; fall occurred in the spring. Not the kind of fall like a beautiful autumn, but the kind of fall like Humpty Dumpty. The “splat” type of fall, which must have been painful for him. It was surely painful for me.

Let me digress a bit. I already have severe arthritis in both of my knees. I was very close to having the Orthopedic Physician’s Assistant refer me to the Orthopedist for knee replacements. The assistant had already seen me for seven to nine visits or so, and a series of Orthovisc® shots, which did not help me. I understand they are a great help to some people, but I wasn‘t one of them. He told me something I was completely unaware of. He said my teeth were bad, which is true. I have upper dentures and only one real tooth in my mouth. The bottom teeth except the one I just mentioned are all rotted away. They didn’t rot completely away; there are still parts of them in and below the gum line. He said they would all have to be surgically extracted before I could have knee replacements done. I asked him, “What do my teeth have to do with my knees?” He said infection can easily set in the rotten teeth and go to the knee or cause problems with my heart, major problems like death. Thus the reader can understand how I arrived at the title for my photo set about my hospital stay…The Knee Bone’s Connected to the Jaw Bone, Huh?

I have been walking around with very painful knees for quite awhile now, and I cannot afford the $1,600 to $2,000 to have my teeth surgically extracted. I already paid a dentist $180 for an appointment and a Panaray® X-Ray, over a year ago, just thinking it would be nice to finally get some lower dentures too. He split town, taking or disposing of his equipment and his files and x-rays. That $180 is long gone for me. I cannot recover the old x-ray. Even if I did recover it, some new dentist would probably say it was out of date.

Medicare, which I am on, will pay for the two knee replacements, but here is the rub. They will not pay for dental. I have been in a surgical limbo with all the free pain I can stand.

That is the background information probably needed for this little story to be understood. There will be some OMG moments and some laughter. If it were a TV show, they would probably advertise, “You’ll Laugh; You’ll Cry; You’ll Sell Your Chickens; You’ll Call Your Congressman, and You’ll No Doubt Charge Your Cell Phone!”

That brings us to Thursday the 15th of March, 2012. My daughter called to see if I could and would watch Rose all day Friday the 16th , as she had forgotten that she had signed up to be chaperone for her daughter, Anna Leigh’s, school field trip. It was going to be quite a bit out of town, the other direction from where I live. It was to be a special day. I wanted to be their hero; so I said sure. Some of you have seen Rose, the Hungarian Vizsla puppy among my photos. Rose is beautiful and young, and strong, and undisciplined and should probably be named Wild Rose. I love her, but she is a major handful. I had already watched her for 8 days while they went on a trip out of state, got one day off and then volunteered to do Friday the 16th.

Rose isn’t housebroken yet; so I took her out several times to encourage her to go outside. I was alone as far as other humans, and my daughter and granddaughter were about 60 miles away, on a school bus and then museum field trip. I live about 60 miles the other way from their home. It had been raining off and on and the ground and grass and driveway and mud were all pretty wet. My other trips outside with Rose that morning had been fine. I only had a thin shirt on, no extra shirt or jacket. I did not think I would be out in the yard very long.

Rose pulled on the leash too exuberantly, as she does often (she is five and a half months old, and has had puppy obedience training, but is in dire need of more of it). I slipped on a muddy and grassy slope. My right leg went out in front of me, and I fell on my rear end. My left leg folded underneath my thigh and toward my rear, and my weight, which is a lot, crunched it. It was bent backward way further than a knee is supposed to bend. I screamed bloody murder. I was afraid to even try to get up, as I thought I had probably torn a ligament or two.

Rose thought it was play time and was all over me. There was not a thing in sight that would give me any leverage to hold me up or to help me get up. I sat and I pondered what to do. My daughter and Anna Leigh would not be home for nearly 6 more hours. I thought, well I’ll just call 911 (the emergency number where we live). Wrong! No cell phone with me. It was inside their house, being charged up; ironically so it would be ready when I needed it.

I tried yelling for help. Nothing! A neighbor about a half an acre away, was mowing, and every time the mower cut off, I tried screaming for help. He must have had headphones on or something. Cars would drive by way down the driveway, and I would yell, but no one had their windows down on that day. Did you now that when you have upper dentures and no lower ones, and you yell really hard, that it blows the upper dentures right out of your mouth? Just thought I would throw that little trivia in. I didn’t know until that day. I knew I couldn’t make it back in the house. There were too many upward slopes and an exposed aggregate patio and a few stairs. The front of the house was even worse, as it had more stairs. I looked down the driveway and saw a vehicle which had some metal protrusions, on the order of spare tire holder or something like that. I decided to try to scoot on my rear down to that metal thing. I thought perhaps it would give me leverage to get up. Rose thought that it was great fun to romp on and around me.

I thought the four chickens would be afraid to come around Rose. No, they are not very intelligent. They came right up to me and Rose and started pecking on me. I had never been pecked on my chickens before, and there I was on the ground with no help and Rose alternating between tried to attack the chickens and trying to play with me. Rose’s playfulness sort of resembles an attack, anyway. I scooted faster, much faster.

There was a light rain, but it was getting a little heavier. There was also a dusting of snow mixed with the rain. I was wondering how long it would take to get Exposure. I was wondering about Shock also. Can a person who has Exposure or Shock know that they have it? Ominous looking clouds were blowing quickly toward me. It was 1:30 P. M. when I fell. I didn’t have my phone, but I had my watch.

I scooted methodically toward the vehicle closest to me. I think it was about 100 feet. I got to it, and thought if worse came to worse with the weather, I could roll under the back of it. I did not relish thought of spiders, but thought it might be better to risk them than the weather. I saw some wide strapping tape on the spare tire, which was loose. I didn’t want to risk hoisting myself up on the spare and its frame, as it was quite loose. But I took the tape and wrapped it around the metal thing that was separate from the spare tire things, and made it softer for my arm to lean on. I tried to prop myself up. No use; I fell back down. Not enough leverage. I put Rose’s leash handle on the trailer hitch. I didn’t want to just let her run free and maybe get hit by a car.

I tried again to get up and made it to both knees. It hurt so badly I went back down again. I noticed the license plate on the vehicle renewed on the ninth month of 2011. That said 911. I thought, “Oh yeah right, you inanimate license plate. Go ahead and taunt me! You know I can’t call 911.” I got a chuckle out of my own joke, and gave myself a figurative pat on the back for being resourceful about trying to get up.

I tried again. I got on both knees but the right one was in gravel that really hurt. Then I thought which knee should I put forward and which one should I try to rise on. I tried one, and it didn’t seem as if it would work so I tried the other way. That wasn’t the right way either. Finally I tried the first way again. I told myself on the count of three I would stand up, even if it hurt excruciatingly, I would scream but I would still get up. False start! Down again! I tried again and got up. I was standing!

Now was the problem of how to go anywhere, not knowing if my left knee would buckle at any time. I thought I had to try. I spotted my own truck further down the driveway, and decided to try to make it to it. I walked between two vehicles very carefully and slowly and got to my truck. I unlocked it with the remote key which I had in my pocket. After 11 years of driving it, the seat is pretty well conformed to me; so I didn’t have to bend my knees to sit down in it. I just leaned into the seat and put my relatively good right leg in. It was painful to bend my left knee to get it in the truck, but I did. Rose was still tied to a trailer hitch further back in the yard, but she was safe.

I looked at my watch. It was 3:30 P. M. It took me two hours to stand up and to get to some degree of safety and warmth. I could drive, as my truck is automatic. I drove down the road to a house that Anna had pointed out was where a schoolmate lived. I thought I could ask them to go in my daughter’s house and get my cell phone for me. There was a very large barking dog in the driveway, and no sign of humans, and the mother of the schoolmate has never even met me. I decided to go back to Jennifer’s home.

I found a cane in my truck that a charity, a different one than the one later in my story, had given me a few months ago. It is not a very sturdy one, but better than nothing. I did not use it on a regular basis. I used the hook end of it to fetch a large stick lying near the driveway (larger than a normal hiking stick). I pulled it to me, and stood back up out of the truck and used the big stick and the cane and balanced against two vehicles, and decided to try to get back in the house. I did. I got in the recliner and pulled a blanket up over me and slept until they got home.

After they got home, we all decided to go to the nearest Emergency room. It was a Friday night by then, and no normal doctor’s hours. We went to one closest to them, but it was still about 27 miles or so. They checked me out and did an x-ray. I told the Physician’s assistant nurse type lady about my knee history. She was fun and nice and caring and a little bit of a comedienne. She said that my left knee was really “ratty” looking on the x-ray. I laughed, because I’m sure it was. I have just never, in all my doctor visits ever had a nurse refer to one of my body parts as “ratty”. I suspect it is not a medical term. They said I sprained my knee, and gave me some medical records to take up to the emergency room (or my doctor) closer to where I live, seventeen miles from my home, the other direction from Jen & Anna. I wanted to be closer to the doctors and hospital that I know. I was given a prescription similar to Vicodin. Someone kindly pointed out that Walgreen’s was visible about a block away and their drive-thru was open. At that point I was still getting around by hobbling and by leaning on Jennifer. So I sat in a chair and she and Anna and Rose drove over to Walgreen’s . It seems as if it took a long time for them get the prescription filled.

While I was sitting there waiting, a employee came out to the lobby with clipboard in hand and asked if I were the lady with an injured knee. I replied that I was. She said, OK, come with me and we’ll have you see a triage. I thought it odd that I had already been seen and now they wanted to start all over again. I told her I had already been seen and x-rayed and all. It turned out there was another lady in the waiting room with an injured knee. It probably would have blown the Physician’s Assistant’s mind if I had played dumb and gone through everything again, and then told her when she looked shocked, “I’m coming through again; and this time don’t call my knee “ratty! Funny to imagine, but not a good idea.

Finally, my daughter and granddaughter returned to the hospital waiting room. Jennifer had forgotten her checkbook. So back they went and then it turned out, Jennifer couldn’t sign for my prescription, and she didn‘t have my insurance information. Thus, we all drove back over there. I was in line ahead of Jen‘s car. I told the pharmacist that my window did not go down well on the driver’s side, and I could not reach the pills in the drawer. So I would give him paperwork and cards he needed, but to please leave the pills themselves in the slide-out drawer. I said my daughter was right behind me and her window worked; and she would pick them up with my permission. Finally she got the pain pills in the drawer, but when we got out of Walgreen’s I flagged her down to stop and be sure to give me the pills to have with me before we forgot. Jennifer got them and handed them over to me. We laughed about how, at that time of night, it looked for the entire world like some sort of illegal drug deal.

We tried to go out for dinner, and the restaurant we chose put the closed sign in their front window as we were approaching. That always makes one feel so welcome, not!

Saturday, I rested, and then Sunday they took me to Good Samaritan Regional Medical Center. I had called my normal doctor, and he was out of the country (probably on some Doctors without Borders type thing). He does many good will type things. The doctor filling in for him; said to go to the Emergency Room. So I did, and they did an MRI, and I had torn the meniscus in my left knee. I ended up in the hospital for 8 days. No surgery was done to repair anything, because of the dental situation. But I got a walker, and some really nice nurses and physical therapy. I saw all kinds of doctors, and Home Health care people, and Senior and Disabled specialists. They must have taken my blood pressure 100 times, it seems. They always seem surprised that it is very good.

Anna Leigh, who is seven years old, threw a coin in the Hospital Fountain and made good wishes for me. She is such a sweetie. My daughter helped to clean up my place so when I went home the walker would fit through the rooms. I don’t know what I do without them. The first few days out of the hospital, I taught Anna how to play Monopoly, and she and Jennifer and I also did puzzles. There were some quality family moments. I one point I was eating a chip or cracker of some kind and trying to place a puzzle piece. I got absentminded and stuck the puzzle piece in my mouth. I realized what I had done because the food tasted like cardboard. I took it out of my mouth. Anna about went into hysterics over it. I was laughing too.

Anna’s Daddy called Jen about that time, and wanted to know what the laughter was all about. Anna wrote a note to show her Mom so her Mom could tell her Dad what happened. She spelled it phonetically, as she is only in first grade. I think she does really well, but Jen and I cracked up over how much Anna was laughing and over what she wrote. She wrote, “My grandmuther ate a pussel pees.” It looked substantially nastier than it was.

At first a physical therapist helped me with the walker and with some small steps. After a few days, I could roam around the hallways on my own with the walker. At that point I took my camera. As I was practicing with my walker I took a number of pictures. I tried very hard to only shoot artsy type things and nothing about any patients or doctors that would invade their privacy. I had a bulletin board in my room just about me. I wrote “Exemplary Patient Award” on the comments. I wanted to see if it would make the nurses laugh. I thought it was funny to give myself an award. I enjoy making people laugh. I was curious if they would erase it, but it was still there when I was discharged.

I graduated from the walker to a cane yesterday. A home health therapist came to see how I was doing, and brought me a very artsy cane. I like it. It suits me, and it is brand new. There is a charity in my area called Love, Inc. I don’t know if it is just local or nationwide. Anyway, they gave him the cane to bring to me. Really super! Of course, I need to take a photo of it, and add it to this set. I’ll probably do that in the daylight.

I am still in surgical limbo, but a charity is going to come out and install grab bars on my shower, and another charity will build up my recliner (which I sleep in) with a platform so it will be easier to get in and out of. It is suggested that I donate enough to cover the cost of the supplies but not the labor. I will probably make a donation, but I haven’t decided how much yet. I’m going to call my Congressman to see if something can be done about covering some dental procedures. Probably not, but I feel I have to try. Not just for me, but for a multitude of people.

I’ll close with a quote, although I don’t know who said it, “Be True to your Teeth and they will Never be False to You.” and “That is the Tooth, the whole Tooth, and Nothing but the Tooth.”

(1527poseysafetybelthospitalsusesnicresaminit) SNIC means to me, Solarized, but NOT in Camera. This gives a substantially different look than SIC, that I call Solarized in Camera. It was an option Sony Mavica Camera owners could choose. I made up SNIC and SIC to help me differentiate.

As a man who enjoys engaging in transvestism and is fascinated by the challenge of female illusion I am a lover of make up. I have wanted to wear make up, dresses and high heels since I was a young boy and after a lifetime the desire has never left me.

I always enjoy applying makeup to my face and seeing if I can feminise my features to create a convincing portrayal of a woman. This of course requires a fair bit of commitment. If you want to look like a woman then you have to make a few changes, firstly you need neater, tidied up eyebrows, most male brows are untidy and bushy. I'm not suggesting you go thin with your brows, a shape I actually think looks unnatural, but a tidier neat shape is essential.

Next is regular daily use of moisturiser to soften your skin. This should be followed by using the best razor you can buy with good shaving oil, foam or cream and by slow careful very methodical shaving. You also need to ensure you shave against the growth to get as smooth and as hairless an appearance as possible on your beard area. Stray hairs and nose hair should be plucked (ouch!)…yes it does hurt but if you wish to look female…no pain , no gain.

Being male do not delude yourself you can use regular women's foundation. I see this as the soignée biggest failing in many transvestite/ cross-dressers appearances. It is not designed work on male skin with a beard shadow. It may work outside the beard areas of your face but is too light to disguise a beard.

As men we cannot avoid wearing heavier make up than women. I have witnessed many who spend little time on their make up and you can see the fact their face is male all too easily. Make up requires a lot of effort and should not be rushed just because one thinks doing it in ten and twenty minutes will be fine and that's how fast women can do it. We are not women, we are impersonating them and we need to work on the illusion. It takes care.

I have a very dark beard shadow and can grow a beard in about three days so I see myself as an extreme example and I had to learn the right make up technique to disguise this.

I use Dermablend's reddest camouflage which I apply all over my beard area with a latex wedge. This red helps neutralise the blue of my beard shadowAfter leaving it for about five minutes I then use Kryolan panstick foundation all over my face. In order to cover my beard area smoothly I gently dab the foundation on starting from my throat and moving upward. This is a slow process and should be done in order to create a smooth convincing look to your skin and completely cover the beard area. If you just draw it on and spread out you may as well give up as that process is never going to produce a decent look. Slow carefully gradual build up by gently dabbing the foundation on is the way. IT can take between twenty and thirty minutes. If you can't be bothered then be ready to accept you won't get a total covered smooth look.

Eye make up is an area just about every transvestite messes up. For some unknown reason, I am genuinely mystified, many completely circle their eyes in eyeliner…why? That's what teenage girls with no idea about why they are using make up do. Remember make up is all about enhancement and feminising your features. You need to apply make up in a way that does this not detracts from your appearance. If you have huge almond shaped eyes you can do compete outlines, look at gorgeous women like Angelina Jolie, they have the eyes and the features that this will work on. Back in the real world, we men do not have features or eyes that are that feminine. We tend to have smaller eyes than women and our forehead shape is different, women have a higher forehead generally.

The idea should be to open up your eyes and give the illusion of a wider eye, this is a lot more feminine. Also, a lift to the outer eye aids this and looks a lot more feminine and younger. In order to achieve this you need to stop outlining right around your eye. Outlining your eye completely actually makes your eyes look a lot smaller, ruins the balance and looks harder, it detracts not enhances. Some say this is dramatic but only if you have naturally big eyes to start with, it just does not work on most peoples eye shape.

To create the illusion of a bigger looking they you should be careful how you add eyeliner to the lower eye. The most flattering approach is to carefully draw in eyeliner, very gently from the outer corner about one third of a way in and taper it so it becomes thinner. Never go further than your pupil. On the upper eye again taper inward from the outer corner but take the eyeliner at least two thirds of the way across.

The next technique is apply mascara (very carefully) to the upper lashes sweeping outward and upward. Gently apply mascara to your lower lashes but not too thick. Once the upper lashes have dried apply two more coats (waiting in between for each coat to dry) but do not apply any more mascara to your lower lashes.

The overall effect will make your eyes look softer, more feminine and bigger. It takes a bit of practice but it's not that difficult and well worth it if you genuinely desire to look more feminine.

Remember, there should be a reason, a direction to your make up, just putting on is pointless. Many real women have no idea how to wear make up so don't be disillusioned. You should be working toward what will enhance and feminise your features not just using the wrong foundation, drawing eyeliner right around your eyes and just putting on blusher and lipstick. There need to be applied in the right places in order to create the illusion you seek.

You also need to use the right tools, I see lipstick being applied straight from the lipstick…this is never going to work well. LIpstick is best applied by drawing in the shape first with a lip pencil then using a brush to paint in the lipstick and fill the lip area. I would say avoid the obvious lip pencil outline, it is bet to use a lip pencil that matches your lipstick colour and your lips will look a lot more feminine.

In this photo I've employed all the techniques I described as well as a bit of contouring on my blusher to enhance my cheek and more importantly my eyes. I think make up application should focus mainly on the foundation and the eyes and the rest needs to be carefully added. The secret to good make up is making one strong feature rather than too many. I think the eyes or the lips or the ones you should decide on. I have terrible lips, very thin and no shape so I focus on distracting from them by enhancing my eyes with make up. My lipstick is not my natural lip shape, it is created with lipstick to look more shapely and bigger. If you have great lips then you can make these the main focus but only aim for one main focus, everything else is in a supporting but by no means insignificant role.

Helene x

Models Jackobie (Jack) & photographer Jesse Belavidorico

A beacon of radiant light

Shined from across the room

Drawing me to you instantly

A hand reached out

From before the dawn of gargoyles

I took it once again

And forever sealed my fate

Innocence robbed

Premature demise

Recognizing a small frightened tear-stained face

Ready to pick up where we left off millennia ago

Ultimatum on the rocks

Faltered response

Heart sinks that you’ll never have what he has

Promises give false hope

But lead only to lies and torture

Through it all

I plod methodically

Haunted by your grace

Our grasp slips

Held only by a string curled in upon itself

You man up and break the cycle of abuse

You emerge bloody and raw

I turn my back

Until I hear your dying gasp

I reluctantly take your hand again

I follow your lead

I let you set the tone

I build scaffolding for us to grow into

You prove yourself to be true

You let yourself fall

I let my guard down

You are no longer subordinate

You are my equal

No longer resigned to being used

We restore each other’s faith in love

I am older than you

But you are older than me

You loved me for a thousand years

I’ll love you for a thousand more

I am your one and only

And you are mine

The story of Margareten

For the first time in 1373 has been an estate named, the in contrast to an "upper court" at the height of the Viennese mountain (Wienerberg) as "lower court" on (today) Margaretenplatz is designated. 1395 donated Rudolf Tirna, an owner of the facility, together with his wife Anna and his brother Louis one to Saint Margaret of Antioch dedicated chapel. As other early mentions of the "Lower Court" and the chapel we find in 1411 the St. Margaretenkapelln to Metzleinstorff, 1548 St. Margareten, 1568 Sandt Margareten and in 1594 hoff to St Margareten. The around this Margaretner Hof in todays area Margaretenplatz - Hofgasse - Schlossgasse emerged estate hamlet constituted the starting point for the development of the suburb. The estate, it is shown on the circular plan of Niklas Meldemann in 1530 armed with a mighty tower, has been at the siege of 1529 of Turkish groups of fighters set on fire - a commemorative plaque on the house Margaretenplatz 3 remembers at it. The court subsequently changed hands several times until it purchsed Olav Nicholas, Archbishop of Gran, 1555 commercially. Olai had the courtyard and the chapel partially rebuild and he layed out a large castle garden.

He appointed settlers to Margareten and founded south of his farm Nikolsdorf. In the middle of the 17th Century, 1647-1667, finally completed the envoy to the Sublime Porte, Johann Rudolf Schmidt von Schwarzhorn the building. In the 1662 appeared "Topographia Archiducatus Austriae Inferioris Modernae" by Georg Matthäus Vischer the present castle is represented as a two-storey building whose siebenachsiger (7-axle) residential wing in the east is reinforced by a corner tower with loggia-like ambulatory and to the west is surmounted by an onion-shape crowned clock tower. In this figure, however, lacks the this very day preserved with mighty rusticaded stones cladded castle portal. After the destruction of the Türkenjahr (Siege of Vienna) 1683 the construction was rebuilt. Already about 1725 had in the front of the castle developed in the run of today Margaretenstraße through building development the methodic rectangular shape of today's Margaret Square.

1727 sold Earl of Sonnau the manorial system Margareten to the city of Vienna. Between 1749 and 1783 was located in the large deserted castle garden, which served partly as a grain field and pasture, the first Mulberry School in Vienna. In the premises of the castle in 1751 a factory of Leonean goods was established, but which burned down in 1768. 1786 Anton Schwarzleithner moved the factory to Mannersdorf (Lower Austria). Thereafter, the entire reality was measured and came up for auction. The largest parcel, the old castle at Margaretenplatz with the adjacent factory building at 23 Schlossgasse, bought the silk ribbon maker and judge of Margareten, Francis Plumper. By a daughter Prallers, Elizabeth, married Pichler, the building complex came into the possession of a book printer family, which to 1869 handled a print shop here. The new factory building at 21 Schlossgasse was purchased by auction by Johann Brauneck who in the same year petitioned for an increase. On the neighbouring to the west to the castle connecting parcel (Margaretenplatz 3) the silk stuff promoter Paul Hochholzer in 1787 by architect Johann Michael Adelpodinger the existing buildings had adapted, over the entrance gate the building inscription of the old castle of 1651 was immured. The to the west adjoining parcel with the in 1783 deconsecrated St Margaret's Chapel acquired the Samtmacher (velvet maker) Leopold Urspringer, who had the chapel demolished and the ground for the construction of a residential building (77 Margaret Street) used. Also the area of ​​the small castle garden that had the Vienna municipal judge Leopold van Ghelen on lease, was parceled out and developed through newly created streets. In the period from 1781 to 1788 arised on the site of the great palace garden in the of the Gartengasse and Schlossgasse on the one hand and Margaretenstraße and Siebenbrunnengasse surrounded territory on the other not less than 41 parcels.

Margaretenplatz as a historical center of Margareten is particularly accentuated by the 1835/36 before the House Margaretenplatz 3 built well, on those square base the by Johann Nepomuk Schaller modelled statue of the over the dragon triumphant hl. Margaret, the eponym of the suburb rises. As part of the regulation of 1886, the Margaret Square fountain was offset by 20m to the southwest, and received its present location .

In the west the square is surrounded by the instead of the in 1883 demolished brewery according to plans of the architects Ferdinand Fellner and Hermann Helmer by builder Joseph Müller for Baroness Amalie Lipthay 1884/85 established Margartenhof. The castle-like complex occupies an extremely important position as regards urban development in the district. Historically, it represents the symbolic succession building of the old, today only in fragments existing Margaretner Castle (Margaretenplatz 2,3). The large residential complex with the street-like designed "Zierhof" is an early example of urban development concepts, which in Vienna otherwise only could unfold in the interwar period.

To the east the Margaretenplatz is dominated by an according to plans of Ferdinand Seif 1898 built monumental palace-like structured tenement, where forms of the Venetian city palace of the 16th Century were used. Buildings of the Gründerzeit round off the Margaretenplatz in the north.

www.bezirksmuseum.at/default/index.php?id=376

strobist.com - 1 elinchrom d lite 4 it with 60cm soft box approx 30cm to left of subject, white reflectors below and to right, black flag to mask light on l/h watch, skyport eco trigger.

It all started in Christmas 1979. That was when I was given my first watch. A Casio QS-95. Back in those days digital watches were a relatively new thing. I still remember sitting in church on Christmas day, more oblivious to the church service than usual as I sat there transfixed by the electronic seconds passing by on the display. I fizzed with geeky excitement knowing that a tiny quartz crystal was oscillating away inside it, and those oscillations were being converted into seconds by a little computer. Watching the time roll over to 0:00:00 exactly on the midnight chime of Big Ben on New Year’s Eve 1979 made my 13 year old heart sing. But I have later come to realise that that moment of perfect synchronisation between one time piece and another sowed a seed in me that would come back to taunt me in later life. By the way that first Casio still sits in a drawer to this day. I will never throw it away.

Around 1988 I got my first G Shock, a DW-5600C (with the earlier 691 module) . I bought it so I could use it while kayaking – it’s bomb proof, water proof qualities shone through. At the time I had no idea it had the 691 module but as the condition of WOCD (like regular OCD but centred around watches) takes hold in my advancing years I have established this fact and noted it. Does it make me cool to own an example of the earlier 691 module? I’m guessing probably not. Although the DW-5600C is a fairly humble watch it is impressive in it’s own way. I still have it now. Everything still works. A few years back I gave it to my young son who spotted a small crack in it’s outer plastic casing and proceeded to methodically peel all the plastic off, leaving it’s metal body naked and looking rather tragic. But this has been remedied as I managed to buy a new plastic outer recently, fitted a new battery and got a new strap keeper, so it is pretty much back to it’s 1980s glory.

Some time in the early 1990s a Pulsar chronograph entered my life. I liked it but sadly one day it went mad – all three sub-dials spinning out of control in various directions. It’s inert body still sits in the old watch drawer. I take it out once in a while to look at, and then put it back. Then there was an early Seiko Kinetic model, with a moderate geek rating owing to it’s rotor mechanism that recharges the battery. Until it stopped working that is. It now sits in the drawer with the other dead watches of years gone by.

So up until this point in my watch owning life everything is pretty normal. I can only recall owning four watches over two decades and there are no worrying signs that things are turning weird.

Around 2003 it did start to go wrong. Or at least odd. I decided one day that I wanted to treat myself to a properly posh watch. I wanted to push the boat out. So I bought myself a Breitling Aerospace. This was a jump into the luxury watch sector. It cost around a thousand pounds. It was a good looking watch. It was quartz and had the geekily sexy feature of advancing the minute hand in two increments per minute rather than the continuous movement of gear driven hands. This was most pleasing to the giant nerd within me. But a week or two later my WOCD reared its head and I noticed that on each completed minute the hand was not always exactly aligned with the minute mark on the face. After further analysis I established that the hand lined up perfectly for each minute down the right hand side of the face but not on the left. This was like fingernails being dragged down a black board. I had to take it back to the shop. As I explained the problem to the jeweller he looked at me with a mixture of feelings – disbelief, confusion, loathing? Anyway I was not to be diverted and so the watch was sent off to Switzerland for horologists to re-align my hands. Some weeks later it came back. After collecting it I couldn’t help but scrutinise the hands and found that they now lined up down the left hand side of the face but not the right. Again I went back to the shop. By now I'd decided I didn’t want the stupid watch and wanted my money back. After initial discussion that led nowhere I came out with a phrase that seemed to press some magic problem resolution button. “I think it must be a manufacturing defect”. I was immediately offered a refund. I think the jeweller was just looking for a reason to get rid of me and this sentence gave him a viable route to do so.

So, various things are now falling into place. A bit of an obsession with accuracy, exhaustive attention to detail. Enter the first radio controlled, solar powered, water resistant watch. The Casio Protrek PRW-1300T. It’s 2008. From the outside I probably still appear a relatively normal member of society. Having developed a fixation about hand alignment after the Breitling, the Protrek added absolute accuracy as the latest “must-have”. And solar power. And water resistance. From this point forwards, my requirements of all future watches become incredibly rigid. They must ALL be radio controlled, solar powered, water resistant. And they must all ideally have the extreme toughness of the G Shock line of watches. So if I feel the urge to smash my watch against a wall repeatedly for some unknown reason it’s good to know that it will probably survive. The PRW isn’t a G Shock but we’ll just politely ignore that for now.

I loved and still love the PRW. It’s a great watch. Big, clear face, nifty functions, no hands to fail to align up as it’s digital. What’s not to like? Well nothing. So you would think that’s where the story ends. But no. People who have WOCD are sometimes pushed by an unseen force to keep exploring the world of watches. In some cases people will acquire a particular model of watch in every colour combination that is available and post pictures of their chromatically diverse collection online. I’m not quite at that level of dedication but I can only go a certain amount of time before experiencing an inexplicable urge to acquire another watch. Hence the purchase a short while after the PRW of the Casio WVQ-620DE-1AVER. It was a very short lived encounter as it showed great reluctance to receive the atomic time signal. Back the shop it went.

Over the next few years I bought another three G Shocks in various flavours - a GW9200, a GW9110, and a GW2500B. Between them they have barometers, compasses, tide graphs. All of them are radio controlled and solar powered. One even has hands that align correctly at all point around the face - the only watch I‘ve ever known to be capable of such a feat. Maybe I should insure it for a vast amount of money. I also bought two Junghans pieces. Both were returned due to various failings. And there was also the second failed Casio purchase, the Pro Trek PRW-5000T. Sadly it’s downfall was the old hand misalignment chestnut. Back to the shop it went.

At one point during this sustained period of unnecessary watch procurement I found myself admiring an Oris in a jewellers window. Now this could have been a radical departure for me. I had been a life-long Quartz/Radio Controlled accuracy junkie so what was I doing looking at a collection of cogs and springs? Well, it looked really nice. I could overlook a small loss of accuracy in exchange for a very handsome watch. However, when the shop assistant told me to expect accuracy of around +/-30 secs a day I recoiled in horror. This level of accuracy was just monstrous! I left the shop feeling faint.

So this brings us more or less up to the present. It’s 2014 and I’ve managed to go a while without buying a watch but as always the creeping urge is, er, creeping. After a fair amount of research I decided it was time to acquire a Casio Pro Trek PRW-2500T-7ER. It’s the watch that does pretty much everything. Altimeter, Barometer, Compass? Check. Tide Graph and Moon Phase? Check. Solar and Radio Controlled? Obviously! I had nearly bought one a couple of years earlier but it never quite happened. This time I bought it. It arrived. I didn’t like it. Back to the shop it went.

Now we move onto what is undoubtedly the most absurd, tortured and confused episode in my whole watch owning live. Enter the Casio GPW-1000-1AER. A towering colossus of technology. A watch for a man who has reached a special time in his life. A watch for a man with strong wrists. Needless to say, the urge to buy yet another watch was still furiously pumping around my system. Now this watch is pretty expensive for a Casio. So I thought long and hard about it. I relentlessly scoured the internet for every photo, video and review I could find and eventually took the plunge. It arrived. The grand opening of the box took place. I quite liked it. In some ways I really liked it. It was very big. The watch has GPS capability so it can acquire time and location data anywhere in the world. Pretty cool. It’s also very big. I considered getting all my sleeves enlarged. The hand alignment was not perfect but was “within acceptable tolerances”. One of the sub-dials is really quite small and difficult to read, even though the watch is huge. After a week of indecision I finally tried it on. Oh my god it was huge. It was a bit like strapping a small, metallic rucksack to your wrist. I sent it back.

A little later during a non watch related trip to a jewellers, I spent some time staring through the glass of the counter displays scrutinising the hand alignment of various Citizen Solar/Radio/blah blah blah models. All hopelessly mis-aligned. Another make receives the “NOT GOOD ENOUGH” stamp and is dismissed forthwith.

Then after some further searching, fretting and general obsessing, I order another Casio GPW-1000. Identical to the one I have just returned. I’m obviously now in some choppy and troubling waters. The second watch arrives. I can’t even bring myself to open the box for several hours. Eventually I take the plunge and open it. Even though I try to stop myself I examine hand alignment. It’s perfect. Except for at Twenty past (a bit out), Twenty Five past (a bit more out) and at Ten to (a bit out). I’m sort of ok with that. I have a little mental battle to put this niggle to one side. I am almost successful. I force this internal struggle out of the way (a bit like forcing a reluctant cat into a cat carrier) and move on. The sub-dial is still very small and difficult to read. The watch is still massive. Despite my reservations I decide I will keep it. Then I decide I’m not sure. I look at it again. Do I actually like it’s overall appearance? I begin to think the hands are a weird shape. Finally, feeling like a long distance runner staggering over the finish line, I realise with a moment of clarity that I do not want this watch. Obviously this time around I haven’t even taken the various wrappings off. It is sent back. The relief and sense of closure is huge. Like the watch.

After the briefest of pauses, I have ordered another Casio, one that I have reservations about before even ordering it. Clearly I am straying into an area of my life that would probably benefit from some professional help. This is another Casio that does everything. It’s the GWN-1000B-1BER. It has a huge blue bezel that - prior to ordering - I do not really like. I order it anyway. It arrives. I take it out of the box and it remains out for around 30 seconds. I can instantly tell that the hand alignment is definitely not “within acceptable tolerances”. And the huge blue bezel looks silly. It is sent back.

A brief pause to re-group. Re-consider. Where am I going? What am I doing? Why am I doing it? Should I buy a watch with no face markings so I can’t stress about hand alignment?

I start looking into mechanical clocks for some reason. My father in law would be proud of me if he knew, as he has several. Considered buying one. Watched a few on eBay. Eventually lost interest.

This unexplained new interest in mechanical timepieces then leads me to start looking at a mechanical Tissot Chronograph. Why this lunge in a new direction, as in mechanical watches? After some pondering the question I have to conclude that because I have four radio controlled watches, all of which do their job perfectly well, and having tried various other watches of the same type and finding that I don’t like any of them for a variety of reasons, I have exhausted that avenue. For now at least. So if there are no other hyper accurate electronic watches out there that float my boat, and I still find myself driven by the strange urge to acquire another watch, then re-visiting the mechanical watch world is, I guess, the only other way to go, providing you discount sundials, candle clocks, water clocks and so on. All a little impractical as wrist furniture.

In the course of pondering this Tissot I find myself immersed in a whole new world. I’m someone who loves to research things, especially things of a technical nature. And the world of mechanical watches turns out to be a broad and deep pool of information to explore. I come across all sort of new terminology - escapements, complications, hacking and non hacking, tourbillons, double tourbillons, Spron springs, the list goes on.

Anyway, back to the Tissot, a PRC200. It is quite expensive. It reminds me of an old Swiss Chronograph my father had and which held my fascination in my youth. I think I like the Tissot but there’s a tiny nugget of doubt. This watch ping pongs around in my tortured brain for a couple of weeks and then fizzles out.

Then I stumble across the Seiko family of automatic Divers watches. I don’t recall ever looking at them before and yet they seem strangely familiar. Their chunky, functional bodies and quirky hands appeal to me. I’m particularly taken with the “Pepsi Bezel”. I start obsessively researching the history of the various models and different movements. I find several vintage examples on eBay and watch them for a few days. I then realise that descendants of these old models are still available new – if you know where to look. They seem to now occupy a special niche area of the market for some unknown reason. So whilst watching the vintage models on eBay I simultaneously pore over the various versions that are still in production. Somewhere in one of the many reviews I read I see mention of yet another thing I’ve never heard of - a watch winder. That broad and deep pool I mentioned earlier keeps getting deeper.

After some days of fact finding and pondering, the auctions of old examples on eBay are ending and some of them are going for surprisingly high prices, far more than I need pay for a brand new model. So I decide that as I don’t know one old Seiko from another I’m probably better off buying a new one. So finally I order a shiny new Seiko SKX009 with Pepsi Bezel. Bearing in mind the recent trauma of multiple attempts at buying watches and sending them all back due to my numerous pernickety requirements, opening the Seiko box is a delight. I immediately like it’s appearance. The funky circular and triangular minute markers, the arrow shaped minute hand, they all delight. Kind of retro and modern at the same time. The crown at 4 o’clock instead of the usual 3 o’clock also pleases. And what of the non-quartz/radio controlled hyper accuracy? It doesn’t matter. All these years I’d had a fixation about accuracy to within a split second. This watch has given me the clarity of thought to realise that I simply don’t need this level of timekeeping on my wrist. It’s impressive and satisfying if you do have it but it really doesn’t matter if you don’t. And although the Seiko literature quotes something like +/- 30 seconds a day it actually runs at more like +/- 3 seconds a day. And another thing – this watch tells me the time, day and date, and nothing else. It doesn’t have a countdown timer. Or a stopwatch. Or an alarm. Or a barometer. Or a tide graph…. The multitude of functions I’d come to demand of watches are absent. And it doesn’t matter.

This is a watch I have a totally different relationship to. With the bells and whistles Casios I love and appreciate their technical abilities. Functionally they are perfect watches. Totally accurate, very robust, teeming with extra functions. But the Seiko with it’s beating heart of springs and gears has – a personality? I don’t know but it’s a totally different experience to an electronic watch. More Casios may join the collection in the future. And as you can see, another Seiko already has.

One thing that has come out of writing this lengthy blog, which feels like a form of therapy, is that the periods of intense “watchery” do seem to coincide with periods of intense stress in my life. Not caused by the watches – the watches act as a cushion against the stress.

Right, time for a lie down.

Class today I will read from The Poodle Book by Jeff Griffen, hopefully this will enlighten your humans.

The Poodle has been traced back to Roman times through sculpture, carving, moldings, mosaics and paintings, but unfortunately none of these exist now. Of the three different-sized Poodle, the standard is undoubtedly the oldest because it had a purpose, that of being a water retriever. Back in the days when wild game, especially waterfowl, was valued as meat for the table everyone prized a dog that helped to obtain it.

The Poodle was undoubtedly held in high esteem, for it appears in the art and writings of so many countries in the 16th, 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. Over and over again we meet the Poodle in Germany, France, Russia, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, England, even the Low Countries of Belgium and Holland. Landseer painted his famous "Laying Down the Law", which is dear to the hearts of all Poodle breeders, for it shows a judicious white Standard Poodle giving a legal lecture to several other breeds of dogs on their transgressions. No other breed can claim to have reached such high favor in so many different places as the Poodle. In fact, most of the other breeds trace their origin back to one specific country, even a tiny area of that country but not the Poodle. He really seems to be ubiquitous, probably helped along by sea captains and circus performers who dealt in dogs on the side, carrying them to and from various ports and cities to sell to wealthy noblemen and merchants.

Undoubtedly the two features, which made the Poodle different from other dogs and accounted for its extraordinary growth, were its coat and intelligence. Its wiry, almost waterproof coat was ideal protection for hunting around marshes and rivers. When someone clipped its hindquarters, supposedly to allow it more mobility in water, leaving a longhaired ruff around the chest and heart for protection and buoyancy, there lay the base for the chic haircuts and grooming procedures we have today. Where looks might have made him merely a fad, his brains and sense of humor endeared him to both royalty and the bourgeois.

First written mention of the Poodle as a breed appeared in northern Germany and western Russia. In 1524, the German writer Gesner describes a dog called a Pudel as a retriever, specifically for waterfowl, in which task, he says; the dog has no superior. In fact the German word Pudel, from whence comes our word Poodle, means to splash in water. A large dog similar to our standard of today, he was usually black or brown, occasionally white, particularly the Russian variety. In Belgium and Holland he was known as Poedel and used for the same purpose.

In France, the large Poodle was first known as the Barbet, the origin of which word is confusing. It may relate to the French word barb, meaning, "Bearded", or to a species of bearded duck known to have existed in France in early times, or to the Barbary Coast (North Africa, specifically Morocco).

The great early German authority on dog breeds, Dr. Fitzinger, listed six varieties of Poodles in his area: Gros Pudel, Mittlere Pudel, Kleine Pudel, Kleine Pinsch, Schnur Pudel and Schaf Pudel. The word Schaf means "curly and the word Schnur means, "corded", a separate breed, which we shall describe in a moment. The Gros Pudel was called Can Barbone by the Italians and Grand Barbet by the French. It was the largest type, equal to our standard Poodle of today, and probably even included our royal standard, the super size that we occasionally see now. The Mittlere Pudel was called the Barbet in France and is currently known there as the Caniche. It is not a miniature but merely a shade smaller than our ordinary standard of today, the word caniche coming from canard, the French word for "duck".

The French claim the Poodle for their own, rejecting all claims that its origin is in Germany or elsewhere. Though the facts tend to dispute them, we in the United States have gone along with them for so long that the breed is unofficially but automatically called a French Poodle here. And one might easily put forth a sound argument in defense of this claim on the grounds that the Poodle is certainly more French than German in manner. He is full of joie de vivre (happiness) and humor, not methodically serious or precise like the other German hunting dogs - the Shorthair, Weimaraner, etc. - which closely parallel the German temperament

The history of the Poodle has been long and noble, one that could continue on through several more books and one of which you can be justly proud. There have been famous war poodles like Moustache, who fought in the Napoleonic wars, was decorated for bravery by Marshall Lannes and died in combat beside his beloved Grenadiers in Spain. There were the white standards, which graced the court of Louis XIV, and when Marie Antoinette was imprisoned, her miniature Poodle visited her faithfully every day outside her prison window until she was guillotined (Marie, not the Poodle).

So you can be sure that, wherever you go and no matter how long you're gone, your Poodle will welcome you back with a bouncing leap of joy, a wagging tail and a bark or two of proper recognition. The French have and old expression that describes him - "fidele comme une caniche"--- "faithful as a Poodle".

Class---please take your copy home for your humans to read. They will be impressed with this knowledge and I guarantee you my fellow STANDARD POODLES the treats and praises will be flowing your way……by the way I have seen some photoshopped photos posted on facebook by a Mary Lou Cole showing Egyptians carvings, etc. of standard poodles…….interesting ….check them out class.

Fabio, Barbie, Rio, Cali, Oliver, CeeJay, Vaughn and Bosley our class dismissed for the day…….

While my father and I spend most of our time working on parts recovery for the Minibus project Graham has been methodically cleaning and painting under the front end of the bus. This is the last area of the bus to get his attention and once complete the complete underside of the bus will have been scraped wire brushed, cleaned and painted, what an effort!

# 9 on my top 1000 list is Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down." Despite the complete lack of any evidence whatsoever for my position, I'm absolutely convinced this song is about the Confederate General John Bell Hood. Stephen Vincent Benet characterized Hood as "all lion, none of the fox."

Hood, a Kentuckian and later an adopted Texian, barely graduated from West Point in 1853, having accumulated 196 of the 200 permissible demerits. When the Civil War began, he joined the Confederacy and rapidly became a brigadier general (in 1862). He immediately began quarreling with his superior officers (once being arrested for insubordination).

Hood was apparently a hottie. Mary Chestnut, the famous Confederate diarist, described him as "a beau-ideal of the wild Texans. He is tall, thin, and shy; has blue eyes and light hair; a tawny beard, and a vast amount of it, covering the lower part of his face, the whole appearance that of awkward strength. Some one said that his great reserve of manner he carried only into the society of ladies."

Despite the huge chip on his shoulder, Hood rapidly rose in the Confederate Army, an organization in which aggression was prized over judgment. At Gettysburg, an artillery shell cost him the use of his left arm for the rest of his life. Only two months later, while leading a charge at the Battle of Chickamauga, Hood was severely wounded and his right leg was amputated above the knee.

These grievous wounds didn't prevent John Bell from proposing marriage to a Charleston, South Carolina hottie (she begged off) or from being promoted to commanding general for the Confederate forces defending against Sherman's March through Georgia.

After Sherman methodically destroyed Hood's forces arrayed in defense of Atlanta, the ever-aggressive (though missing an arm and a leg) Hood decided that he would take his army and invade the North!

Strategically, this was insanity, since the federal troops at Nashville and central Tennessee vastly outnumbered Hood's troops.

No matter. Hood attacked the numerically superior Yankees at the battles of Franklin and Nashville -- where his Confederate army was systematically eliminated. His army effectively ceased to exist, losing 23,000 of his original 38,000 soldiers. This was the death blow to the Confederacy, which no longer had any realistic chance of winning the Civil War after Hood let its western army be destroyed.

After the Civil War, the crippled Hood married and had 11 children. He, his wife, and his oldest son died in the yellow fever epidemic of 1879 -- leaving behind 10 orphan children.

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

Back to the 21st century, these are the lyrics to Tom Petty's "I Won't Back Down."

Well I won't back down, no I won't back down

You could stand me up at the gates of hell

But I won't back down.

Gonna stand my ground, won't be turned around

And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down

Gonna stand my ground and I won't back down

[Chorus:]

Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out

Hey I will stand my ground

And I won't back down

Well I know what's right, I got just one life

In a world that keeps on pushin' me around

But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down

Hey baby there ain't no easy way out

Hey I will stand my ground

And I won't back down

No, I won't back down

“Jazz is smooth and cool. Jazz is rage. Jazz flows like water. Jazz never seems to begin or end. Jazz isn't methodical, but jazz isn't messy either. Jazz is a conversation, a give and take. Jazz is the connection and communication between musicians. Jazz is abandon”. – Nat Wolff.

Bix Beiderbecke & His Gang – At the jazz band ball ♪♫ youtu.be/ihKr81zqxek

Photo taken with mobile pone (Nokia Lumia 930) and edited with PicMonkey.

A storm clears the Friendship and the nearby Pedrick House. This building is the original building that was built in 1770 on the Marblehead side of Salem harbor. The building had many purposes over the years and it's link to Salem was through one of it's owners. William Story bought the building from Pedrick and intended to run his business from there as he was a ship captain and he sailed as Captain of the 1797 version of the Friendship (The link to Salem). The park service managed to get the building transferred to them and Salem's NHS (National Historic site) and then a labor of love began as it was taken apart very methodically and brought to Salem. It was then piece by piece put back together and it sits much as it had in the 1770s through the early 1900s..

In nice early morning light, this Yellowstone Coyote was moving methodically through the sage brush searching for its next meal, when that super sensitive nose or those ears detected something. It froze in this position, but it must have been a false alarm, as it waited for a few seconds and then resumed its search.

Best viewed "Large"

This bird was methodical. It cleared all within reach before putting any energy into changing position.

A dramatic moment from 'Kin' by Barely Methodical Troupe which is part of the The Underbelly Circus Hub at this year's Edinburgh Fringe.

You can book tickets here: www.underbellyedinburgh.co.uk/whats-on/kin

I couldn't go to sleep so I tried to photograph a shot that I have been trying to execute for some time now. It's not really anything special (and somewhat cliche), but it's progress nonetheless. I've also been trying be a little more methodical and calculated when balancing ambient with flash exposure with minimal chimping (emphasis on trying)

Strobist:

SB700 into slightly collapsed 43" shoot thru umbrella at camera left triggered by Phottix Strato II's.

* The characters are modified action figures with wax carved faces; all interiors are hand made in my shop, except the uniforms. The civilian outfits are also hand sewn and the hair is real The set was inspired by the eighteen equally intricate designed dollhouse-style interiors made by Frances Glessner Lee, which she titled "The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death" The set consists of a series of eighteen intricately designed dollhouse-style dioramas created by the greatest and my favorite doll house interior designer Frances Glessner Lee, a millionaire heiress with an interest in forensic science.

Her dioramas are detailed representations of death scenes that are composites of actual court cases, created by Glessner Lee on a 1 inch to 1 foot (1 : 12) scale./same as mine/ She attended autopsies to ensure accuracy, and her attention to detail extended to having a wall calendar include the pages after the month of the incident, constructing openable windows, and wearing out-of-date clothing to obtain realistically worn fabric. She called them the Nutshell Studies because the purpose of a forensic investigation is said to be to "convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell. Students were instructed to study the scene methodically—she suggested moving the eyes in a clockwise spiral—and draw conclusions from the visual evidence. At conferences hosted by Glessner Lee, prominent crime-scene investigators were given 90 minutes to study each diorama.

The dioramas show tawdry and in many cases disheveled living spaces very different from Glessner Lee's own background. The dead include prostitutes and victims of domestic violence.

Glessner Lee used her inheritance to set up Harvard's department of legal medicine, and donated the Nutshell dioramas in 1945 for use in lectures on the subject of crime scene investigation. In 1966 the department was dissolved and the sets were placed in storage. Presently the dioramas can be viewed by appointment at the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office in Baltimore. A exhibit well worth while to visit for those interested in doll house interiors.Those wishing to view these sets, I strongly suggest making an appointment well before setting out to view them.

Ancient Thonetschlössl, District Museum

Object ID: 32954 Josef Deutsch-Platz 2

Former Capuchin monastery of 1631, 1785 secularized and acquired in 1786 by Giacomo Cagliano. Altgräfin (grandduchess) Elise von Salm the building had rebuilt similar to a castle. In 1889, it was acquired by the Thonet family, 1930/31 by the Savings Bank of the City of Mödling that housed there the since 1904 existing District Museum.

de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liste_der_denkmalgesch%C3%BCtzten_O...

(further information you can get by clicking on the link at the end of page!)

History

Plaque to the founder of the Hyrtl'schen orphanage Joseph Hyrtl and Joseph Schöffel

© IMAREAL / E. Vavra

The Biedermeier-influenced city on the edge of the Vienna Woods is the capital of the district Mödling in the south of Vienna. The town has experienced in its 1100-year history since the first mention very different phases: in the Middle Ages briefly Babenberg residence, for centuries an economically potent wine market, from the 19th Century summer resort and industrial center, since 1875 town, in the 20th Century for almost two decades XXIVth district of Vienna, since 1954 again an independent municipality of Lower Austria and as a school and garden city popular residential area in the vicinity of Vienna.

Mödling has partnerships with cities in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Hungary, Czech Republic, Serbia, Bulgaria and Italy.

The historical tradition of Mödling goes back far beyond the first written mention, how settlement finds from the Neolithic Age, Hallstatt period (eg calendar mountain) and Roman times as well as the great Avar burial ground "at the Golden Staircase" from the 7/8th Century BCE prove. In the year 903 Mödling is first mentioned (Medilihha). The later settlement was probably made in the 11th Century beneath an early castle building on the church mountain (Kirchenberg), where later a Romanesque predecessor of Othmar church was built.

In the late 12th century Mödling was for a few decades the residence of a Babenberg branch line. Henry the Elder, a brother of Duke Leopold V., had since the 1170 century belongings in and around Mödling. He and his son Henry the Younger, calling himself "Duke of Mödling", resided on the castle probably built around 1150 in the Klausen, among whose most famous visitors was Walther von der Vogelweide. With the death of Henry the Younger in 1236 extinguished the Mödlinger line of the Babenberg and the reign became princely domain. The time of the Babenberg commemorates the in late 12th Century built Romanesque ossuary at Othmar church - a circular building with an apse - as well as the denomination "Babenberg".

In the late Middle Ages, Medlich developed into a major wine market (1343 mention of market town) which in the 15th Century as one of the four princely spell markets was also represented in the Parliament - in addition to Gumpoldskirchen, Langenlois and Perchtoldsdorf. For centuries shaped the wine-growing the economy and social structure. The Mödlinger wine was good and helped the market particularly in the 15th and 16th Century to its prosperity. The settlement reached at the end of the Middle Ages that extent, which until the 19th Century should remain essentially unchanged. The center formed ​​the area around the Schrannenplatz with a dense stand of late medieval and early modern town houses that bear evidence of the wealth and self-confidence of the citizens of the market town. From the late medieval Schrannen building, the official residence of the market judge, was created in 1548 the representative Renaissance town hall with loggia.

The elevated lying Othmar church became in the 15th Century by transferring the rights of the church of St. Martin parish church of Mödling. The massive late Gothic church was built in a nearly 70-year construction period from 1454 to 1523 on the walls of six predecessors and able to resist fortified. As Mödling was destroyed in 1529 by the Ottomans, the just completed church lost its roof and remained for over a century till the restoration in 1660/70 a ruin. On the Merian engraving from 1649 the uncovered Othmar church on the left side is clearly visible. As a temporary parish church served the about 1450 built late-Gothic hospital church.

The internal conditions at this time were mainly marked of the clashes of the market with the princely rule Burg Mödling - since 1558 combined with the rule of Liechtenstein - which reached its climax in 1600 under the energetic administrator Georg Wiesing (1593-1611). During the Reformation, the market largely became Protestant. In the course of recatholicization a Capuchin monastery was founded in 1631, which served as a factory after the repeal under Joseph II and was then bought by the Thonet family (so-called Thonet Schlössel, today Bezirksmuseum).

In Türkenjahr 1683 (besiegement of the Turks) took place in the Othmar church a horrific bloodbath, in which hundreds of people who had sought refuge there were killed. The church was destroyed again, but this time built up rapidly with the market judge Wolfgang Ignaz Viechtl in a few years.

End of the 18th Century occurred in Mödling the settlement of industrial enterprises, especially textile mills that took advantage of the cheaper production possibilities and also its proximity to Vienna. Was decisively shaped the character of the place but by the rise to a summer resort, initiated by Prince Johann I of Liechtenstein beginning of the 19th Century, which acquired in 1807 the rule of Liechtenstein-Mödling with the former family ancestral home. He had the area under enormous cost reforested (Schirmföhren/pinus mugo, acacia, etc.) and transformed to a public park in Romantic style with promenade paths, steep paths and artificial constructions (Black tower, amphitheater, Husarentempel). The ruined castles Mödling and Liechtenstein were restored. The former Liechtenstein'sche landscape park is considered a remarkable example of the garden culture in 1800 and is now a popular tourist destination (1974 Natural Preserve Föhrenberge).

Since the Biedermeier Mödling in the summer was an extremely popular artist hangout. Among the most famous artists of the 19th Century who were inspired by the romantic nature here, were Franz Schubert, Franz Grillparzer, Ferdinand Waldmüller, Ferdinand Raimund and Ludwig van Beethoven, who here worked on one of his major works, the "Missa Solemnis". In the 20th Century settled inter alia Arnold Schönberg, Anton von Webern, Anton Wildgans, Franz Theodor Csokor and Albert Drach temporarily or permanently down. To Beethoven, Schönberg and Wildgans memorials have been established (Beethoven House, Schönberg House, Wildgans archive).

In the second half of the 19th Century Mödling became administrative center (District Court, District administration) and an industrial site and educational location with high schools and colleges (eg educational establishment Francisco-Josephinum). The good traffic situation at the southern railway, the progressive industrialization and the expansion of health facilities (park, Kursalon) led to a rapid expansion of the hitherto for centuries unchanged market. Under mayor Joseph Schöffel (1873-1882), who became famous because of his successful engagement against the deforestation of the Vienna Woods as the "savior of the Vienna Woods", followed the methodical installation of the so-called Schoeffel(before) city - Schöffelvorstadt (New Mödling) east of the Southern Railway and the establishment of workers' settlements. Later followed the exclusive residential areas of the turn of the century with their representative residential buildings. Probably the most important building of the late 19th Century is the Hyrtl'sche orphanage (1886-1889), founded by the Viennese anatomist, Joseph Hyrtl and Joseph Schöffel. The Orphanage church St. Joseph was built on the in 1787 demolished Martin Church.

On 18th November 1875 the emerging market town was raised to the status of a city, two years later the incorporation of Klausen and Vorderbrühl took place. Through the establishment of Great-Vienna under the Nazi regime on 15th October 1938 the young city for 16 years lost its municipal autonomy; 1954 it became again a part of Lower Austria.

Symbol for the characteristic environment of Mödling was the "width pine" on the Anninger whose age goes back to the 16th Century (around 1550). It was a well-known natural landmark and has become the symbol of the city. 1988 died the tree and it had to be removed in 1997 for safety reasons. The remains are now in the Lower Austrian Provincial Museum.

geschichte.landesmuseum.net/index.asp?contenturl=http://g...

They dock workers walking by as Peruvian Pelicans hang out in the background. Photo taken at the port of Paita, Peru.

Though closely related, the Peruvian Pelican is almost twice as large as its northern congener, the Brown Pelican. The species breeds along the Pacific Coast of South America in Peru and Chile. Though still common, with about half a million breeding adults, the population has been negatively affected by strong El Niño fluctuations and changes in food fish populations, particularly anchoveta. Peruvian Pelicans are easily observed from shore as they fly back and forth in nearshore waters by means of soaring interrupted by deep, methodical wingbeats.

Claude Monet (1840-1926) oil on canvas at the Getty Center in Los Angeles. Written near the painting: Between 1892 and 1894, Monet turned away from his usual landscape subjects and painted thirty views of Rouen Cathedral with a methodical intensity that was unparalleled in his career. For Monet, the Gothic monument was less important as a religious symbol than as a permanent, richly textured surface on which light and atmosphere could play with infinite and colorful variation.

See this and more of my work at johnkirkland.pixels.com

If you are ever near St. Augustine, Florida, and it is nesting season, you have to check out the bird rookery at the Alligator Farm! This Tricolored Heron was having a great day people watching on the boardwalk.

From www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Tricolored_Heron/overview#

The Tricolored Heron is a sleek and slender heron adorned in blue-gray, lavender, and white. The white stripe down the middle of its sinuous neck and its white belly set it apart from other dark herons. This fairly small heron wades through coastal waters in search of small fish, often running and stopping with quick turns and starts, as if dancing in a ballet. It builds stick nests in trees and shrubs, often in colonies with other wading birds. It’s common in southern saltmarshes and was once known as the Louisiana Heron.

Coastal estuaries are a great place to look for Tricolored Herons year-round. They tend to feed alone or at the edge of groups of other waders, so be sure to look at the lone dark bird in the corner. They also forage more commonly in open water and pools than Snowy Egrets and Little Blue Herons. Their white belly readily separates them from Little Blue Herons and Reddish Egrets, and their active foraging style separates them from the slow and methodical Great Blue Heron.

Cool Facts

Tricolored Herons sometimes follow behind Double-crested Cormorants or Pied-billed Grebes snapping up fish that they stir up.

Angsty teenagers aren't just a human phenomenon. As Tricolored Herons get older they often lunge and snap at their parents when they arrive at the nest with food. To appease the youngsters, parents greet them with bows.

The oldest recorded Tricolored Heron was at least 17 years, 8 months old when it was shot in the Bahamas in 1976. It had been banded in Virginia in 1958.

I had to wait close to two years to be able to prove this. Last time I went to renew my Vehicle Registration with the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) in Oregon was October of 2014. They had started accepting credit cards if one renewed online. I really didn't like the idea of personal information and the like, being online, but I couldn't afford the cash, and I could afford to charge it. I dutifully filled in all the proper boxes. I gathered up all the pertinent insurance information. Where I lived at the time had horrendous Internet service, and frequently I completely lost whatever I was working on. It was dismal to have so many power outages out in the country and so many server outages.

Because of that, I had a hard time filling out forms anyway, as I never knew when my screen would go black. So I was working on my renewal one night and got to the box where I was supposed to fill in my credit card number. Obviously, I'm not going to put my real number here, but just pretend I put in

0786 4223 9849 1209, which was the way the numbers appeared on my credit card. Words popped up on the form to the effect that my credit card number wasn't valid. I put in each number again, racing against a likely power failure (even a momentary surge could make me lose all I had done). It still came up not valid. Then I thought maybe I made a typo. I took pains to methodically re-enter each number. Still no good! I thought perhaps my card had expired. Nope! I spent about 20 or more minutes altogether trying to enter the letters or numbers that would satisfy DMV. I even thought, that though my credit card balance should have been fine, that maybe the bank made an error and declined my card. I was getting really upset. I thought I would put a hyphen (dash) between each set of 4 numbers. I did 0786 and a hyphen, then 4223 and a hyphen and 9849 and a hyphen and had typed only 1 when the little box would not let me type any more numbers. I had seen that some places want a space like on the credit card and some want a hyphen like on some credit applications, but I had never before seen one where they wanted all the numbers strung together. After a great deal of exasperation I called DMV the next day. It wasn't easy to get past all the press 1, press 2 etc. Finally, they told me that I was required to string all 16 numbers together.

I told some friends, relatives and professional people I knew about my idea to call DMV back and say that I probably wasn't the only one frustrated by the lack of directions/explanations on the form. And also to say they should change it. The people I told all said in one way or another that it wouldn't work. A large outfit like DMV would never listen, etc.

In spite of a lack of support, I called DMV and talked to someone in administration. I told him how horribly frustrating it had been to keep thinking I was typing wrong or had something wrong with my credit card. Maybe I forgot to put my full name in, and so on. I suggested very nicely and politely that they should just add a simple phrase on their form by the box where credit card numbers are to be filled in. It should say something to the effect of "Numbers only, no spaces or hyphens please." I spoke with a Mr. Penfold who told me that he wasn't in the department that would do that, but he would certainly tell someone who was. A week or so later, I thought I would be able to pretend to be renewing my registration, not for any fraudulent purposes, but just to see if any change had been made, and then cancel before completing the form. It seemed that I had to have special renewal access code in other to get to the part in the renewal process where I could see the credit information page. I didn't have such a code. I called DMV to see if they could see the form and tell me if my idea had been used. Nope, they don't do any computer renewals right there at the DMV office. The credit card things are online.

There was nothing to do but wait close to 2 years for my personal renewal to arrive in the mail, get my newest renewal access code and see if DMV had done anything

Well as you can see above in my screen shot, they DID! There is a little tiny question mark right by the box and clicking it says just about verbatim, what I suggested. The people who said I'd never get anywhere with my idea/suggestion were wrong.

Over the years I have gotten 3 other large companies to make a little change that people said I would just be ignored about. I'll be writing up little stories and photo proof about those too.

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(DMV Shows I Could Effect a Change (best) <------- file name, probably only of interest to me.

"A picture is worth a thousand words" sometimes applies even when the news is not good. Plantings near porch add to humid conditions as well as deteriorating porch gutter system. A methodical rebuild of this porch is in order but will be the most expensive repair on this property.

The concrete bridge deck has been removed from the 1920s-era steel truss bridge that spans the Puyallup River. Crews working for the Washington State Department of Transportation will lift and methodically place the old bridge truss onto the new northbound SR 167 Puyallup River Bridge. The span will be taken, via a system of dollies, to a nearby WSDOT property where it will be stored for up to four years. Moving the old steel truss bridge will require a full weekend closure of SR 167 across the Puyallup River the weekend of August 7. WSDOT’s goal is to recycle the truss by offering it for another purpose, perhaps on a pedestrian or bicycle trail. If unsuccessful, WSDOT will recycle the steel. More information can be found here: www.wsdot.wa.gov/News/2015/07/SR167PuyallupBridgeRelocati...

Good morning SL...

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”

~ Herman Melville, Moby-Dick

We had another visit at suppertime today from the three grey jays, whiskeyjacks, that live in our neighbourhood in Ganny Cove. They are very different from their cousins, the blue jays.

The Blues are noisey, jumpy, and apparently glutonous. They are willing to take every peanut you have, and bury them all. How can they remember all those places? Maybe that's providence, skillful preparation for future famine, but it looks like wasteful greedygutsism.

The Greys are thoughtful, methodical, considerate, taking a single nut off somewhere private, to eat and not necessarily come back for more. Maybe that's improvident, but it looks like polite consideration.

Both of them like to sit for a good portrait. Here a Grey.

11500 S block along the Burnham Greenway

Peripheral Vision: A Chicago Perimeter Ride project (2015-ongoing)

"Here's the three Rs -- Repetition. Repetition. Repetition." -- Mark e. Smith (the Fall)

Is the presence of a bicycle in an art gallery an inevitable Duchampian gesture, or is it sometimes just Freud's cigar? A bicycle without a cyclist is simply a potential ride, while a cyclist without a bicycle is a bi-ped.

"All is in flux, nothing stays still." -- Heraclitus

The Chicago Perimeter Ride is a fleeting, ephemeral yet concrete, street traffic performance staged site-specific on the outskirts and along the city limits of Chicago. The streets serve as a fringe theater where the methodical, methodized actor-cyclist performs his routine. This ritual ride is repeated like a meditation, a prayer, poem, a song.

"Repetition is a form of change." -- Brian Eno

The route is routinized but varies from time to time. This routine act, spinning bicycle and body, tracing boundaries and memories, traverses 90+ miles through Chicago's built environment. There have been 97 performances to date, both clock-wise and counter, encountering 39 of Chicago's 77 community areas and 30 adjacent municipalities, covering over 8,900 miles. During this same span another 10,000+ miles were pedaled outside the parameters of this project. These cyclical edge performances, fluid and mechanical, topographical but not isochronous, are typically six to seven hours in duration. Completing a circuit, I physically echo previous rides while simultaneously feel the invisible pull of (and anxiously anticipate) the next cycle round, looping endless endless.

The photographic canvases in this exhibition contextualize the space, the cityscape, in which the exercise is negotiated and performed -- the lakefront, Burnham Greenway, brownfields, arterial and residential streets, barber shops, hot dog stands, liquor stores and tap rooms, tamale carts, taverns, tire shops, taquerias, corner stores / bodegas, car washes, auto parts & repair, stranded boats and trailers, pink walls, graffiti scrawls, Virgin Marys and of Guadalupe, pylons and bridges, railroad crossings and church crosses, the Chicago and Calumet rivers, the Sanitary and Ship Canal, Wolf Lake, frozen beaches and on-ramp interstate wetlands, banquet halls, pizza joints, beauty salons, sub shops, paleterias and neverias, day care centers and cleaners, motels and shrimp shacks, travel agencies and print shops, Nicky's -- the home of the Big Baby, a power plant and a comfort station, American Legion posts and tanks along the border, Dinette World and dollar stores, joyerias and Jewel Stores, muffler men and upholstery shops, and the countless apartments above the shop or bar. Given the scope and scale of this project and its highly mobile nature, I hope to present multiple iterations at various locations throughout the city over time.

The two bikes on display, a 1987/1988 Peugeot Cologne and a late 1980s/early 1990s Quattro Assi, are two of the four machines on which the 2015-2016 Perimeter Rides were performed upon. The French-built Peugeot, made specifically for the German market for just two years, is constructed of Reynolds 531, the legendary steel tubing of Tour de France champions. The Italian-made, golden anodized aluminum "Four Aces" was a custom-designed rare bird built for a small bicycle shop in Texas. The two other bikes employed are a 1986/1987 titanium Litespeed and a 2003 carbon fiber/aluminum Colnago Dream.

In conjunction with the closing of the show in late March, I will invite all that are interested to join me on a guided perimeter ride, starting at Promontory Point in Hyde Park. We will stop at various select points along the route for refreshments, including a stop at Compound Yellow.

Exhibition opening Sunday, March 5th 2-5 pm

closing ride / party Sunday, March 26th 9am

Compound Yellow

244 Lake Street

Oak Park, IL

Mr Shanmuganathan's assistant carefully and methodically checks and sorts out the freshly printed sheets in order to compile them for the binding process.

Rolleiflex 2.8GX | Rollei Planar HFT 80/2.8 | Kodak Tri-X pushed 800 | Rodinal

Photo taken on LA 108 Loop, West of Sulphur, LA near Interstate 10

Red-tailed hawks are “sit-and-wait” predators, often perching atop high objects (such as utility poles and tall trees), where they can use their exceptional eyesight to scan the ground for prey. In addition, red-tailed hawks hover above potential feeding grounds before diving methodically and relatively slowly, with legs extended, to capture prey, which they usually carry to their perch to feed on

Slater came out and methodically dominated his heat. No hesitation. Surf was small and inconsistent. That didn't slow Kelly one bit. He caught a wave seconds into the heat, took the lead and never lost it.

Patron of Art Homage to Napoléon Bonaparte Limited Edition 4810 Fountain Pen M

CAD$4,200.00 plus 13% HST.

Napoléon is mainly remembered for his military achievements, but he was a true patron of the arts. His glory lives on in the great ‘architecture parlante’ style of the famous Parisian structures built during his reign. In addition to architecture, other arts such as painting, sculpture and the decorative arts also blossomed under his leadership.

The overall design of the pen is inspired by the neoclassic style. The pattern of golden bees on dark blue lacquer is inspired by Napoléon’s throne in Fontainebleau, and the sword-shaped clip bears the Napoléonic “N”. The engravings on the cap top – a laurel wreath, imperial crown and an eagle – refer to Napoléon’s coronation insignia. The clip end is decorated with a red stone recalling the coronation ring of Napoleon’s wife Joséphine.The cap is crowned by the Montblanc Emblem in precious resin.

In homage to Napoléon Bonaparte, the handcrafted 18kt solid gold nib bears a portrait of Napoléon with the typical bicorn.

Golden Bees importance: CLICK on links to see his Golden Bee images. *********

www.geriwalton.com/the-importance-of-bees-to-napoleon-bon...

www.hhantiquejewelry.com/napoleon-bees-jewelry-tomb-child...

The Importance of Bees to Napoleon Bonaparte

By Geri Walton | February 8, 2019 | 1

The importance of bees to Napoleon Bonaparte became obvious when he decided to adopt this ancient symbol older than the fleur-de-lys. Supposedly, when Napoleon thought about wearing the imperial purple, he decided to adopt the bee based on the following story:

“It was a custom in France, during its early and barbarous ages, that whenever a monarch died, his horse and page were killed and buried with their master, that they might be in ready attendance upon him in the next world. In the year 1658, the tomb of Childeric, the father of Clovis, was discovered [by the archeologist Jean-Jacques Chifflet*], and within it were found the skeleton of a man that of a horse, and part of the skeleton of a youth, concluded to be the remains of Childeric and his companions … a gold signet ring was taken from the finger of the large skeleton; upon it appeared an engraved head, having long hair flowing over the shoulders, and around it the words, ‘Childerici Regis;’ several buckles, massy gold bracelets and a gold head of an ox, supposed to be an image of the idolatrous worship of the deceased. … [In addition,] on further search in the tomb were found a purse, containing a hundred pieces of gold and two hundred pieces of silver, bearing the heads of different emperors of France; a crystal ball or orb, a pike, a battleaxe, the hand, mounting, and blade of a sword; gold tablets and style; the bit and part of the harness of a horse; fragments of a dress or robe; and more than three hundred little bees of the purest gold, their wings behind inlaid with a red stone like cornelian.”[1]

When Childeric’s tomb was discovered in 1653, Louis XIV received the treasure, but he wasn’t impressed and stored it at what later became the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. When Napoleon came to power, his advisor, Jean-Jacques-Régis de Cambacérès, suggested he adopt the bee as his personal symbol and mentioned the treasure of Childeric. Napoleon took his advisor’s advice after learning that Childeric had lived between 437 and 481 and that he founded the Merovingian dynasty. Moreover, Napoleon learned that Childeric’s symbol of the bee preceded the fleur-de-lis adopted by his son Clovis.

Besides being associated with the Merovingians, Napoleon also wanted to be associated with the Carolingians, a dynasty that reached its peak in AD 800 with the crowning of Charlemagne as the first Emperor of Romans. The spread eagle that Napoleon used on his shield came from the Carolingian founder Charlemagne and was suggested for use by by the Council Commission, made up from members of the Council of State, whose job was to oversee the coronation of Napoleon and his Empress, Josephine. They soon determined:

“Even if the arms of Charlemagne were not accurately known, it could still be pointed out … that in the time of Louis le Débonnaire, and doubtless earlier, ‘an eagle of metal was placed in the western portion of the Imperial palace at Aix, and it was always the custom of those who got possession of the palace, first of all to seize upon this eagle.’”[2]

It was also pointed out that the fleur de lys would have been inappropriate alongside the Carolingian symbol of the eagle, another reason for selecting the bee. Moreover, some in the Council Commission erroneously suggested that the fleur-de-lys were just badly drawn bees. One twentieth-century historian noted:

“The fleurs de lys which had been sown broadcast on the carpets, hangings, and insignia of the Capetian kings would have been scarcely suitable to match with the eagles. Besides, they belonged to the old order of things which was to be forgotten. It was necessary to choose some plant or animal from the heraldic flora or fauna which could be adopted in the place of the fleur de lys, and was yet known to French historical tradition. As nothing suitable of this kind could be found in the Age of Charlemagne, it was necessary to search farther back. … [It was also] remembered that, during the sitting of the National Convention on the 3rd of Brumaire of the year IV, Daubermesnil, speaking in the name of the Committee of Public Instruction, had proposed that the emblem of the State should be a hive swarming with bees, and that it should be placed upon the front of every national building. To which Citizen Barallion had indeed objected that ‘bees were cognizance of several Kings of France of the first dynasty, such as Childebert and Chileric. Besides,’ he added, ‘bees can never be the emblem of the Republic, for is it not well known that they all pay court to a queen?’ The convention was struck with this merry quip, and rejected the harmless suggestion of Daubermesnil.”[3]

Napoleon apparently ignored the idea that bees might be related to a queen and found bees an appropriate symbol for his empire. He knew illusion was power and that the bee had greater antiquity than the fleur-de-lis. He also thought because the bees were a symbol of the Merovingian kings, it would give him added legitimacy to rule as Emperor. Thus, when he was crowned, the importance of bees to Napoleon was obvious as he made sure bees appeared prominently on his coronation robes.

To aid in this, he used the best-known miniature painter Jean-Baptiste Isabey, who also happened to be a close friend of the Bonaparte family. Isabey decided the bee found with Childeric’s remains lacked detail and was too small and dense. Therefore, he developed a new larger bee created volant en arrière, or in other words, when viewed from the top its wings were partially opened.

Isabey’s bee was the one used to embellish the coronation mantles. Embroidery of the bees on the mantles cost 15,000 francs and were accomplished by Picot, embroiderer to the Emperor and the Empress. One historian gave the details of Napoleon’s mantle, stating:

“The Imperial mantle of purple velvet powdered with golden bees; in the embroidery are interlaced branches of olive, laurel and oak surrounding the letter N. The lining, the border, and the tippet are of ermine. The mantle, open on the left side, allows the sword to be seen, which is sustained by a scarf of white satin embroidered and trimmed with a cord of gold; the long robe is of white satin embroidered with gold on all the seams, the hem of the robe embroidered with a cord of gold.”[4]

The Empress was also resplendent and likewise had a mantle of purple velvet powdered with golden bees, as did the French princes. Pages wore green coats with shoulder-knots of green silk embroidered with eagles at each end and powdered with bees. Moreover, golden bees also appeared on the square purple velvet cushion that held Charlemagne’s crown. (To see the only known embroidered bee that survives, click here).

Despite the importance of bees to Napoleon, he never gave an Order in Council or officially announced the adoption of it. He also never gave a formal explanation for why he chose the bee. He did, however, make sure that the bee was an important symbol at his imperial court after he was crowned. Bees could be found embellishing clothing and fabric and were incorporated into ceramics, furniture, glass, and metalwork. One historian also reported:

“He [Napoleon] sprinkled bees liberally on his ensign as General-in-Chief, he introduced them on the borders of the Army colours, he adorned the upper portion of the escutcheons of the Grand Dignitaries and good towns with them, he powdered them over his own carpets and hangings.”[5]

The bee was so important to Napoleon, it was exclusively reserved for the imperial family, and not even dukes could use it. However, on 19 May 1802, Napoleon established a reward for civil and military merit called the Légion d’Honneur and to indicate the importance of the bee, he used a version in the medal. This was, and is, France’s highest honor, and although there were critics who thought of it as a bauble, Napoleon knew its value, stating, “It is with baubles that men are led.”[6]

After the Treaty of Fontainebleau and his exile to Elba, he designed his own flag for Elba and once again used the bee that he so cherished. Perhaps, he did so because it linked him to the imperial mantle. The flag that floated over the island had a white background with a diagonal red stripe and three golden bees in the stripe. Gloria Peria, director of the Historical Archives of the Communes of the Island of Elba, notes:

“Having chosen to give the Island of Elba three bees meant giving the island a sense of unity under his reign, even though from an administrative point of view it was divided into several Municipalities … Napoleon’s flag of Elba was immediately a great success, so much so that, according to Pons de l’Herault in his Souvenirs et Anecdotes de l’Ile d’Elbe, even the Barbaresque pirates greeted it, because they saw in it the symbol of their war hero, Napoleon, in person, as they sailed the Tyrrhenian Sea.”[7]

When Louis XVIII came to power in 1815, he methodically replaced or destroyed Napoleon’s bee with the fleur-de-lys. Ultimately, few bees from Napoleon’s reign survived Louis’ eradication. The bee seemed to all but disappear until Napoleon’s remains were returned in 1840. One newspaper reported that the car carrying Napoleon’s body was “truly magnificent,” and that on the pedestal, “on both sides hung two velvet imperial mantles, sprinkled with bees.”[8]

*Although Chifflet thought what he discovered was bees, some scholars have suggested they were cicadas, a symbol that meant both death and resurrection to the Merovingians. However, other scholars believe they were flies because flies were found on the coats of arms of families from the territories of Venice and Flanders that were once controlled by the Merovingians. If they were flies, Napoleon’s enemies would have likely got a chuckle thinking he was covered with flies rather than bees.

References:

[1] W. H. Ireland, The Napoleon anecdotes, ed. by W.H. Ireland (London: C.S. Arnold, 1822), p. 18.

[2] F. Masson, Napoleon and His Coronation, (Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott Company, 1907), p. 97.

[3] Ibid., p. 98–99.

[4] Ibid, p. 314.

[5] Ibid., p. 99.

[6] B. Farwell, The Encyclopedia of Nineteenth-century Land Warfare: An Illustrated World View (New York: W.W. Norton, 2001), p. 488.

[7] “History of the flag of the Island of Elba,” Info Elba, accessed November 16, 2018, www.infoelba.com/discovering-elba/curious-facts/the-flag-...

[8] Downpatrick Recorder, “Funeral of Napoleon,” December 26, 1840, p. 1.

RYERSON, EGERTON (his complete given name was Adolphus Egerton but he never used the first), Methodist minister, author, editor, and educational administrator; b. 24 March 1803 in Charlotteville Township, Norfolk County, Upper Canada, fifth son of Joseph Ryerson and Mehetable Stickney; m. first 10 Sept. 1828 Hannah Aikman (d. 1832) at Hamilton, Upper Canada, and they had two children; m. secondly 8 Nov. 1833 Mary Armstrong at York (Toronto), Upper Canada, and they had two children; d. 19 Feb. 1882 at Toronto.

Two circumstances in Egerton Ryerson’s early life exercised a lasting influence on his career. One was the loyalist environment in which he grew up. His father, Joseph, and his uncle Samuel Ryerse*, both American born, had served as loyalist officers in the American revolution and afterwards had fled north to New Brunswick before moving to Upper Canada in the 1790s. As a half-pay officer Joseph had received a substantial land grant and established his family on a farm near Vittoria, the first capital of the London District. Appointed to a series of important local offices, both Joseph and Samuel became part of the loyalist establishment in the district while members of their families married into other leading loyalist clans in the area. Joseph and his three eldest sons all served against the Americans in the War of 1812. Egerton, too young to be actively involved, saw a brother badly wounded and the destruction of lands and property belonging to friends and relatives. Among the Ryerson family, memories of pioneering a new land and defending it, of principles sustained and loyalty reaffirmed, would breed a deep and abiding attachment to both their native land and the maintenance of the British connection in North America.

The second great formative influence was evangelical Christianity. Like so many of his generation Ryerson was touched early in life by the wave of Protestant revivalism that swept North America in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. The Ryerson children were raised by a devout mother of Methodist sympathies who taught them a personal and vital form of Christian belief and her precepts were reinforced by the Methodist circuit-riders who criss-crossed Norfolk County during Egerton’s childhood. Some time immediately after the War of 1812, according to his own account, Egerton, like three of his elder brothers, “became deeply religious. . . . My consciousness of guilt and sinfulness was humbling, oppressive and distressing; and my experience of relief, after lengthened fastings, watching and prayers, was clear, refreshing and joyous. In the end I simply trusted in Christ, and looked to Him for a present salvation. . . .” In 1816 his mother and two of his older brothers joined the Methodist Church. His Anglican father was “extremely opposed” to the Methodists and when at 18 Egerton applied for membership in the local Methodist society he was told “you must either leave them or leave my house.” Egerton took the latter course. The rift lasted for two years and was repaired only when the father acquiesced in his son’s convictions. The episode reveals something of the determination and impetuosity characteristic of Ryerson all his life. It also reveals the depth of his “conversion” experience. From the time he was a young man Ryerson’s personal odyssey was defined by his determination “never to rest contented until he [Christ] becomes not only my wisdom, but my sanctification and my full redemption.” Loyalism and Methodism would form the warp and woof of Ryerson’s life and thought throughout his long career.

Ryerson’s family was sufficiently well off to enable him to take advantage of the limited educational facilities available at the time. Most of his schooling took place under James Mitchell at the London District Grammar School in Vittoria. Between 1821 and 1823 he served as an assistant to his brother George, who was master in the school. During these years Ryerson absorbed the essentials of an English and classical education and was also introduced to two works that would become lasting influences – William Paley’s Principles of moral and political philosophy and Sir William Blackstone’s Commentaries. In August 1824, perhaps with the intention of becoming a lawyer, Ryerson went to Hamilton to study with John Law at the Gore District Grammar School.

After only a few months’ study in Hamilton, Ryerson’s formal education was ended by a prolonged illness in the winter of 1824–25. During his recovery he became convinced that he had been preserved from death to serve God’s purpose as a Methodist minister. He irrevocably accepted God’s call on 24 March 1825, his 22nd birthday, and preached his first sermon at Beamsville on Easter Sunday of that year. Thus Egerton became one of five Ryerson boys to enter the Methodist ministry: he followed in the footsteps of William* and John* as George, the eldest, and Edway (Edwy) Marcus, the youngest, would follow in his. Formally received on trial in September 1825 by the Canada Conference, the governing body of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Upper Canada, Egerton served his apprenticeship on the York and Yonge Street circuit and then as a missionary among the Indians at the Credit River. In September 1827 he was admitted to full connection and ordained. He spent the next two years assigned to the Cobourg and Ancaster circuits.

During these years the rigorous routine of a travelling preacher’s life was interrupted by two diversions that would put Ryerson’s name before a much wider audience than any Methodist circuit could offer. In 1826 a sermon, delivered the previous summer at the funeral of Bishop Jacob Mountain* by John Strachan*, appeared in print; in it Strachan, the leading Church of England clergyman in Upper Canada, traced the rise of the Anglican church in the colony, contending that it was the established church and attacking the Methodists as ignorant American enthusiasts, unsound in religion and disloyal in politics. None of the arguments were new, but on this occasion the Methodists in York chose not to remain silent and Ryerson, still a probationary preacher, was one of those invited to frame a reply. In a long letter printed in the Colonial Advocate (York) in May 1826 he challenged all of Strachan’s assertions. No less than Strachan himself, Ryerson sought a society that was both Christian and British. But he denied that an established church was either scriptural or an essential part of the British constitution, and quoted authors ancient and modern to support his case. He rejected the charges of ignorance by citing the intellectual training required of all Methodist preachers and also challenged the contention that most of them were Americans. Ryerson’s letter and the ensuing debate in the provincial press “thrilled the Methodist mind in the country,” in the words of John Saltkill Carroll, and called attention to Ryerson’s remarkable abilities as a spokesman for the Methodist cause. In 1827 Strachan again put forward his claims in a series of letters written in England to garner support for both the Church of England and the colony’s newly chartered university. In the public uproar that followed, Ryerson was only one critic among many, but in eight clearly reasoned and broad-ranging letters, published first in the Upper Canada Herald (Kingston) in June 1828 and later that year as a pamphlet, he again defended the character of Methodism, argued the case for religious equality, and broadened his attack to include the educational policies of what he claimed to be an Anglican-dominated executive.

His forays against Strachan brought Ryerson to the centre of Methodist affairs. In 1829 he was elected by conference as the first editor of the new Methodist newspaper, the Christian Guardian. Over the next decade he would be its dominant editorial voice, responsible for the paper from the first issue in November 1829 until August 1832, from October 1833 until June 1835, and again from June 1838 until June 1840. A large Methodist constituency and Ryerson’s own editorial talents made the Guardian one of the most widely read and politically influential papers in the colony. From the beginning it reflected not only the temporal but also the spiritual concerns of Ryerson’s own life. One subsidiary object of the paper, he wrote in 1830, was “to support and vindicate religious and civil rights”; but the paper’s principal purpose was to promote “practical Christianity – to teach men how to live and how to die.” Serving also as book steward for 1829–32 and 1833–35, Ryerson established a book room and helped lay the foundations of a flourishing publishing establishment which eventually became the Ryerson Press.

During the early 1830s Ryerson was involved in another important aspect of the institutional development of his church. In 1832, at the invitation of the colonial administration, the politically conservative British Wesleyans decided to expand their own work into Upper Canada. Colonial Methodists were divided over the appropriate response. Although some objected to any cooperation at all, the majority of conference, led by John Ryerson, voted to support a union between the two churches in order to avoid wasteful duplication and open conflict and to disprove the continuing charges of American sympathies. Egerton vigorously supported this policy in the Guardian and within conference, and was selected to go to England to complete the negotiations with the English conference as well as to lay a variety of Methodist interests before the Colonial Office. He returned to Upper Canada in September 1833. Just 30 years of age, fresh from his first trip abroad and the successful representation of his church in Britain, and re-elected editor of the Guardian, Ryerson had begun to establish himself, in Carroll’s words, as the Methodists’ “leader in all public questions.”

The style and character of the man had also begun to take permanent shape. Summarizing contemporary opinion, Charles Bruce Sissons* concludes that Ryerson was a competent rather than an outstanding preacher. The basis for his public reputation would lie in the written rather than the spoken word. At his best Ryerson could write prose laced with vigorous rhetoric, flashes of wit, and powerful imagery. He could also, particularly as he grew older, be long-winded and pontifical, his prose weighted down by endless quotations and irrelevant appeals to the history of any subject from time immemorial. His style was shaped by the Methodist homiletics of the day and encompassed the best and the worst of the genre.

To his many friends and admirers Ryerson was a generous, warm, kind, inspiring man, “trusting and trustworthy,” endowed with “grand qualities of mind and heart.” Others, particularly those who ran afoul of him in controversy, did not share this opinion. In his younger days Ryerson was generally careful to distinguish between the personalities and the arguments of his opponents. As editor of the Guardian he did not routinely indulge in the character assassination and innuendo typical of contemporary colonial journalism. Yet he was also acutely sensitive to slights or imputations about his own character and principles, and when provoked could descend into excesses of personal abuse unbecoming in a clergyman and public figure. These tendencies increased as he grew older so that even a sympathetic contemporary observer was led to remark that “both in writing and in debate he is not very choice of the means by which he abolishes an opponent, so long as it is done.” His was not a singular failing in mid-19th-century Canada and in many instances Ryerson had a strong claim to just cause. None the less he himself recognized it as a flaw. “I have,” he told his daughter, Mrs Sophia Howard Harris, in 1870, “written and printed many things that I afterwards very much regretted. For many years I have been accustomed to keep for a day or a week what I have written, before committing it to press.”

When he believed it to be necessary Ryerson could rethink his positions and make tactical compromises but his reluctance to admit such shifts publicly left him open to recurring charges of disingenuousness and hypocrisy. Such assessments were also encouraged by a strain of self-righteousness in his personality. Though his diaries and private letters often reveal him struggling with self-doubt, his public demeanour bespoke great assurance that his designs and God’s were one. Thomas Dalton* was one of the first of Ryerson’s contemporaries who captured this trait when he wrote in 1834 that Ryerson “pretends to be Heaven’s Lord Chancellor, and consequently the depository of all the secrets of that high court.”

Throughout his life Ryerson was a relentless worker. He could call up enormous reserves of energy, endurance, and discipline – products of his early labours on his father’s farm, the physical rigours of a circuit-rider’s life, and above all, the conviction that he must be a worthy steward of the time God gave him. He was also a constant student. He was forever learning a new language: Ojibwa at the Credit River mission, Hebrew in his spare time in the early 1840s, French and German on his trips to the Continent. The core of his religious and social thought had been shaped by rigorous study of the scriptures and the great Methodist divines: Wesley himself, Adam Clarke, and Richard Watson. He was also an avid reader of the classics of British and European history and political thought, and the “serious” contemporary literature such as the great English quarterlies. On any subject he chose he could command a remarkable variety of sources and quotations. His persistent interest in secular knowledge and in contemporary cultural and political affairs tempered the asperities of a faith that in other men could breed a disdain for temporal things or even an outright anti-intellectualism. On the other hand his secular interests, reinforced and justified by his religious convictions, also drew him into the political conflicts that haunted the colony in the 1830s and 1840s to a degree that, amongst Upper Canadian clergymen, was matched only by his great antagonist, John Strachan.

As pamphleteer and editor between 1826 and 1832 Ryerson had gradually become associated in the public mind with those who identified themselves as political Reformers. It was a natural alliance at the time, for many of the issues that galvanized Reformers were also those of most concern to Methodist leaders: the disposition of the clergy reserves, the right to solemnize marriages, the control of many of the educational institutions by the Church of England, and a number of similar issues affecting denominational equality Ryerson’s spirited editorial attacks on Anglican ascendancy, his leading role in organizing and drafting the petition of the Friends of Religious Liberty in December 1830 [see Jesse Ketchum*], and his denunciation in 1831 of the attack by Sir John Colborne* on the Methodists for political meddling, all seemed to identify him not just as a leading Methodist but as a leading Reformer as well. Thus it was not surprising that in 1832 a Tory mob in Peterborough, looking for symbols of reform on which to vent their anger, set fire to effigies of both William Lyon Mackenzie* and Ryerson.

When Ryerson returned from England in the autumn of 1833, however, he struck an unexpected theme. In the first of a series of “Impressions of England,” published in the Guardian, he attacked as infidel, republican, and anti-Methodist, radical leaders such as Joseph Hume and John Arthur Roebuck* who were close allies of Canadian Reformers. At the same time he praised the English “moderate Tories” among whom were to be found “a considerable portion of the evangelical clergy and, we think, a majority of Wesleyan Methodists.” Their political prudence, “genuine liberality and religious beneficence,” he concluded, “claim respect and imitation.” The “Impressions” caused a political uproar. To friends and enemies alike Ryerson appeared to reverse direction and commit himself to Toryism. The Reform press had a field-day at his expense, condemning him as an apostate and traitor, and many of his Methodist brethren concurred. To Ryerson himself, however, the change was one of emphasis, not principle. His passionate recitals of the grievances of Upper Canada had in fact masked an intellectual temper that was profoundly loyalist and conservative.

Two central convictions, shaped by his early life and by his reading of Blackstone, Paley, Wesley, Clarke, and Watson, formed the core of his political thought. First, he revered the body of constitutional theory and practice developed in Britain since 1688 and inherited, he believed, by Upper Canadians through the Constitutional Act of 1791. To Ryerson, civil institutions were among the means established by God to enable man to seek sanctification in this life and everlasting happiness with God in the next. No system of government designed by man was better suited to serve these purposes than the British constitution. By providing institutional bulwarks against arbitrary rule, it protected the civil and religious liberties of the subject and, through petitions to parliament and appeals to the crown, it furnished the means of seeking redress of grievances. Because of its mixed nature – its incorporation of king, lords, and commons (in the colony, governor, council, and assembly) – it provided the mechanism to balance and reconcile the different interests of society and thereby secure good government for the whole community. Wise policy, Ryerson would repeatedly say, not only arose from but also ensured “both the prerogatives and due influence of the Crown, and the constitutional rights of the people.”

The second fundamental principle that shaped his political thought was the importance of the imperial tie. Given his warm attachment to British institutions, all proposals for outright independence were anathema. At the same time he believed that the imperial authority and its local representatives must be responsive to local interests and circumstances. Thus Ryerson, like so many others of his generation, had to come to grips with a proposition that, on the face of it, seemed absurd: Upper Canada could be both self-governing and a colony. If some believed that sentiment alone could keep separatist tendencies in check, many others, Ryerson included, did not. To him, the “responsible government” of Robert Baldwin* was but a first step to independence. Its logic was to destroy the mixed constitution by eliminating the independent prerogative of the crown, the most palpable link between colony and parent state. So long as the imperial government was broadly responsive to public opinion, preserved the right of appeal for redress, and followed existing constitutional usages in dealing with the colony, Ryerson would oppose any innovations that threatened to weaken the imperial tie or modify the constitution inherited by the colony.

From the late 1820s until the mid 1840s Ryerson would attempt to govern his political course in accordance with these two principles. It was not an easy task. It would lead him from one side of the political spectrum to the other and back again, and leave him open to charges of political opportunism that, in the eyes of many Upper Canadians though not in his own, were difficult to refute.

By late 1833, when he published “Impressions,” Ryerson had become convinced that the main enemy was the Reform movement, not the administration. He did not dispute the fact that Upper Canadians still had justifiable complaints but, he argued, appeals to the crown and the imperial parliament were bringing redress. In particular, the royal dispatches of 1832 and 1833 had led Lieutenant Governor Colborne to modify many of the partisan policies of the previous decade. To Ryerson, in other words, the cause of Reform had been largely won. Of course Methodists had changed their tune, he would reply to his critics in 1835, “and for a simple and sufficient reason, the administration of government towards them has been essentially changed.” The Reformers, on the other hand, were seeking no longer to remedy real grievances but to introduce organic changes in the constitution. Thus, with the same energy he had exerted on behalf of Reform in the early 1830s, by mid decade Ryerson had thrown himself into the defence of existing authority.

Ryerson was absent from Upper Canada from November 1835 to June 1837, having been sent by conference to England as part of an attempt to put the affairs of the Methodists’ new academy at Cobourg in order. Begun with the greatest optimism in the early 1830s, Upper Canada Academy was in the most desperate financial straits by mid decade. It was Ryerson’s job to obtain a royal charter for it and, more importantly, to travel throughout Britain soliciting money for its support. Both tasks proved difficult but the latter was the more painful: to be a stranger and to have to beg, he confided to his diary, was “the most disagreeable of all employments.” He obtained the charter, none the less, and promises of financial support from British Wesleyans and the imperial government. Though away from home during these months, he continued to be a force in Upper Canadian politics, writing lengthy letters to the Christian Guardian and to English newspapers criticizing the Reformers and defending the policies of Lieutenant Governor Sir Francis Bond Head*.

Ryerson ended 1837 with a blistering sermon condemning those who had participated in the rebellion. He himself, however, was already beginning to have second thoughts about Head’s administration. It was one thing to defend the existing constitution against “republican” or “democratic” radicalism but quite another to tolerate arbitrary rule. Despite the clearly expressed will of the crown and the assembly, the Legislative Council had refused to approve a loan to Upper Canada Academy in 1837 – a scandalous departure, Ryerson argued, from constitutional precedent. A Tory legislature appeared to be attempting once more to place the clergy reserves in Anglican hands. In the wake of the rebellion civil liberties were being trampled upon and early in 1838 the case of Marshall Spring Bidwell*, who had been forced into exile at the whim of the lieutenant governor, roused Ryerson to issue a ringing public denunciation of the authorities and a defence of the constitutional rights of the subject. In Ryerson’s view Head’s successor, Sir George Arthur*, brought no improvement; indeed Arthur seemed determined to sustain all of the most objectionable pretensions of traditional colonial Toryism. From June 1838, when Ryerson returned as editor of the Guardian, his energies were again directed towards attacking the policies of the local executive and its supporters inside and outside the legislature. Once more he had entered the camp of the anti-government alliance.

It was in these circumstances that Ryerson was temporarily converted to the constitutional proposals of Lord Durham [Lambton*]. To those who recalled with some glee his earlier opposition to colonial cabinet responsibility he replied in June 1839 that “the history of the last three years” had proved that no other means existed to ensure a just and equitable local administration. By the end of 1840, however, Ryerson had returned to more familiar ground. In Lord Sydenham [Thomson*], who was determined to form a broad party of moderate opinion, to treat all denominations equally, and to be responsive to public opinion while at the same time preserving the prerogatives of the crown, Ryerson believed he had found the patriot governor who could implement “truly liberal conservative policy” and thus sustain the mixed constitution in the colonial setting. When Sydenham died in 1841 Ryerson wrote an obituary that heaped encomium upon encomium. At its heart was an expression of his own most fervent wish for the province: “his Lordship has solved the difficult problem, that a people may be colonists and yet be free.”

In June 1840 Ryerson ended his last stint as editor of the Guardian and was assigned to a pastorate in Toronto. He remained, however, a central figure in Methodist affairs. A number of issues had begun to divide Canadian and British Wesleyans in the late 1830s, raising doubts about the value of the union into which they had entered in 1833. One of these was the editorial policy of the Guardian, which members of the British conference felt Ryerson had made into “a political and party organ” of colonial radicalism. Though Ryerson was sustained by large majorities at conference, clashes over this and other matters of policy led to the dissolution of the union in 1840. Egerton and his brother William were appointed delegates to the British conference and spent the summer of 1840 in England negotiating the details of separation. In the following year Egerton was selected as the first principal of Victoria College, the successor to Upper Canada Academy, though he was not formally inducted into the post until June 1842. He remained principal until 1847 but his active role in the college was short-lived. In 1844 he took up a new post as a government administrator and, at the same time, became involved in one of the most celebrated political conflicts in Upper Canadian history.

In November 1843, because of a dispute over control of patronage, Governor Sir Charles Theophilus Metcalfe*’s Reform ministers had resigned from office. In the next few months Metcalfe and his new chief minister in Canada West, William Henry Draper*, began to search for a base of support in the leading moderates of both parties and all denominations. Among those consulted for general advice was Ryerson and, most probably in January 1844, consultation turned into a more positive offer of a place in the administration.

It is not difficult to see why Metcalfe wanted Ryerson. An appointment for Ryerson would disprove charges that he was too partial to Anglicans and high Tories and would favourably influence the large Methodist vote. Ryerson was on close terms with other political moderates and his accession might bring their support as well. A place on the council itself was, however, out of the question. Ryerson did not want an unequivocally political appointment and Draper discovered that it was not possible in any case. Thus Ryerson was offered the post of superintendent of schools for Canada West, which was not formally political; his acceptance would, however, signify his support for the ministry.

Why Ryerson himself was tempted by the offer is another question. Certainly he believed that at stake was a major constitutional issue upon which men must declare themselves. Moreover, he had always thought that an effective system of national education was one of the highest goals of practical, liberal policy and he was no doubt deeply attracted by the chance to play a role in promoting its development. But there may have been other reasons as well. On two previous occasions in the early 1840s he had expressed an interest in becoming involved in primarily secular projects and it may have been that Ryerson was somewhat restless in these years and eager to test his talents in a wider sphere than that afforded by Upper Canadian Methodism alone.

He may also have been tempted by the new political atmosphere of the years after 1840. The many leading politicians of the decade with whom he was on close personal terms accorded him a degree of respect he had not received from an earlier generation of Upper Canadian notables. Moreover, whatever their differences on particular issues, Ryerson’s vision of the future development of Canadian society had much in common with that of such men as Draper and Francis Hincks. They were ready to recognize the legitimate interests of Methodists and other dissenters within the body politic, they were men of the centre who rejected the extremes of either radicalism or Toryism, and their concern for economic development and the modernization of public services and institutions was as great as their commitment to the preservation of a distinct British-American society. In other words, Ryerson may have been attracted to the job because he believed that politics and policy were moving in more congenial and promising directions than in the conflict-ridden decade of the 1830s. In any case and for whatever reasons, Ryerson accepted Metcalfe’s offer in early 1844, though his appointment was not formally announced until September.

Apparently Metcalfe and Draper had asked only that Ryerson agree to serve as superintendent of common schools. It seems to have been Ryerson himself who proposed that he also step into the public arena in defence of the governor. He did so in part because he thought that his appointment was at risk unless the ministry was sustained by the electorate. But his behaviour was also fully in character. For Ryerson it was never enough to stand up and be counted; he had to smite the enemy hip and thigh as well. Thus he set about writing Sir Charles Metcalfe defended against the attacks of his late counsellors, published first as a series of letters in the British Colonist (Toronto) in the late spring and early summer of 1844 and later that year as a pamphlet of some 165 pages.

Though the letters ranged widely over British and colonial constitutional and political history and included a variety of arguments favourable to Metcalfe’s position, Ryerson focused on the patronage question. The Reform ministry, he argued, proposed to use patronage to strengthen the grip of extreme partyism on the country. This in itself was dangerous enough, for partyism prized partisanship and factionalism over independent judgement and the public interest, and rewarded loyalty rather than merit. In this respect the Reformers were reviving all the evils of Family Compact rule when patronage had been used for the benefit of a faction and a sect rather than the community as a whole. But more importantly, by attempting to control patronage, the Reform ministers were attacking the British connection itself: to put the control of patronage primarily in the hands of the council was to undermine the independent authority of the governor and thereby fatally weaken the link with the crown. To accede to such a principle would give Canada “Responsible Government in a sense that would make the Crown a ‘tool’ in the hands of a party; or in a sense, as the Imperial Government emphatically declare, would make ‘Canada an independent republic.’” Thus the duty of the people of Canada in the present crisis was clear: to sustain the kind of responsible government which had been established by Sydenham, which was approved by the imperial government, “and which Sir Charles Metcalfe has most explicitly and fully avowed.”

The Metcalfe ministry won the elections of 1844 for many reasons, though no doubt Ryerson’s “Defence” and the loyalty cry he helped to raise played a part in influencing moderate opinion. His appointment to an important public position may also have influenced Methodist voters for it represented a long-delayed recognition of their importance and their claims to full membership in Upper Canadian society. The affair also won Ryerson the lasting enmity of some Reformers, George Brown* amongst them, and a recurring epithet, “Leonidas,” for Ryerson’s smug comparison of his own role in 1844 with that of the hero of Thermopylæ. Ryerson himself left Canada West in October 1844 for his first tour of educational establishments in Britain and on the Continent, and did not return until December 1845. In the following year, working closely with Draper, he began the task of reorganizing the structure of elementary education in the colony.

He could not, however, detach himself immediately from the political role he had played in 1844. He had publicly allied himself with Metcalfe and with Draper’s Conservative ministry. Upon the victory of the Reformers in the elections of 1847–48 it was commonly rumoured that Ryerson would be replaced as superintendent of schools. He survived for several reasons. Impressed by his competence, Lord Elgin [Bruce*] gave Ryerson his full support against those who wished to dismiss him for political reasons. Ryerson also had warm allies within the ministry, such as William Hamilton Merritt*, and influential admirers within the party. Above all, Francis Hincks, worried about the Methodist vote, was prepared to bury the political enmity of the mid 1840s. By late 1849 Ryerson had prevailed. His chief enemy in the ministry, Malcolm Cameron*, had resigned, new school legislation that undercut Ryerson’s position had been set aside, and Ryerson had been invited to remain in office and to prepare a revised school bill incorporating the experience of his four years as superintendent. The way was now clear for him to begin the most significant phase of his life’s work.

Ryerson’s main preoccupation in the two decades after 1850 was to give form and substance to his vision of the appropriate system of education for Canada West. That vision had been taking shape for years, derived in equal parts from the lessons of scripture and Methodist theology, from his reading of the early 19th-century debates in Britain and America about the importance of popular education, from his participation in the editorial warfare over educational policy in Upper Canada, and from his study of other school systems during his tour of Europe in 1844–45. Though Ryerson wrote voluminously about education throughout his public life, his ideas were expressed most fully and systematically in his Report on a system of public elementary instruction for Upper Canada, written after his return from Europe.

At the heart of his educational ideas lay his Christian faith. Next to religion itself, he believed, education was the great agent of God’s purpose for man. Carried out in a Christian context, education promoted virtue and usefulness in this world and union with God in the next. Because it made good and useful individuals it was also a key agent in supporting the good society, inasmuch as it helped to promote social harmony, self-discipline, and loyalty to properly constituted authority. To Ryerson it was the duty of education to develop “all the intellectual powers of man, teach him self-reliance as well as dependence on God, excite him in industry and enterprise, and instruct him in his rights as well as the duties of man.”

From these principles Ryerson drew his particular goals. First and foremost, a system of education must be Christian: a secular education was a danger to the child and the society as well as a denial of God’s message to mankind. Secondly, in order to have its intended effects on all children, schooling must be universal. A truly national system must also be “extensive” or “comprehensive”: it must meet the needs of all ranks and vocations by providing both elementary and advanced institutions of education. As well the system must be both British and Canadian. The schools had a duty to uphold the British tie and respect for British constitutional government, and at the same time to foster local patriotism and serve the particular needs and circumstances of Upper Canada’s social and economic life. Finally, the system must be the active concern of government. As an ordinance of God “designed by the Supreme Being ‘to be a minister of God for good’ to a whole people,” government had a duty to sustain and encourage those institutions which promoted the temporal and eternal welfare of its citizens. These were the goals Ryerson would pursue in his remarkably long career as superintendent of education in the upper province.

When Ryerson first took office in 1844 there were already more than 2,500 elementary schools in Canada West: financed by a combination of government grants, property taxation, and tuition fees; run by locally elected boards of education; and supervised and coordinated, though in a somewhat ineffective way, by an established central Education Office. Ryerson, in other words, did not create a school system; he inherited one. Throughout his career, moreover, his success was in large part the product of a climate of opinion highly favourable to his aims. Politicians, editors, and other public figures of all religious and political persuasions were sympathetic to the expansion of schooling. School boards and taxpayers provided most of the financial and political support at the local level and imposed broad limits within which central policy could operate. Thus system-building was a cooperative venture rather than the sole achievement of any one individual. More than anyone else, however, it was Ryerson who gave the emerging system its particular shape and character. Between 1844 and 1876 he was involved in a multitude of projects, ranging from the drafting of his major school legislation of 1846, 1850, and 1871 to writing school textbooks, promoting school libraries, and creating a museum of art and science. But his four major achievements were the creation of conditions which made universal access to elementary education possible, the promotion of improvements in the quality of the school programme, changes in the function and character of the grammar schools, and the establishment of an effective administrative structure.

He sought universality and improved quality in several ways. In a period when much of the province was still being settled Ryerson provided the legislative and financial devices that enabled even new, small communities to provide schools for themselves. He also led the campaign, which culminated in the Schools Act of 1871, to make every elementary school tuition-free and to introduce Ontario’s first tentative measure of compulsory attendance. For Ryerson, however, it was not enough to ensure that the rudiments alone were universally available. Through exhortation and regulation he tried to make certain that the programme of studies extended well beyond the “three Rs” so that the elementary schools not only began but completed all of the schooling most children and their parents would want or need. He tried to ensure that textbooks were pedagogically sound and reflected the political, social, and religious values he believed should underpin Upper Canadian society. Finally, he did what he could to promote improved teaching. In 1847 he established the first teacher-training institution and he constantly attempted to set progressively higher standards for the certification of elementary school teachers.

Ryerson’s achievement with respect to the grammar schools was twofold. First, by persuading the politicians and the public to accept the principle that grammar schools should have access to local taxation, he put these institutions on a sound financial footing for the first time in their history and transformed them into unequivocally public institutions. Secondly, he attempted to turn the grammar schools into effective secondary schools. By the gradual introduction of an entrance examination and a prescribed curriculum that clearly delimited the functions of elementary and grammar schools, he linked these institutions hierarchically. At the same time, he attempted to ensure that the grammar schools would offer a high-quality, broadly based education, consisting of English, mathematics, and classical studies, to that minority of students continuing beyond the elementary level.

By creating an effective administrative system for his own department, Ryerson became a member of that small group of pioneer public servants who, in J. E. Hodgetts’ words, made responsible government “a working reality.” He established a strong central authority and a system of local inspection designed to ensure that provincial policy could be implemented and enforced. His own daily routine was dominated by an immense volume of correspondence generated by the problems of institution-building at the local level – correspondence that required him to write hundreds of letters a month in response to requests for guidance and advice. By careful attention to the detail of the organizational machinery at his command he secured both financial and administrative responsibility throughout the system. He reduced the routine work of administration as well as his relations with the local authorities to a body of systematic procedure that covered everything from the gathering of a multitude of statistics to the means by which local boards could function fairly and efficiently in the day-to-day running of the schools. An intensely methodical administrator, Ryerson created the first effective social service bureaucracy in the province’s history.

He was, however, not only a school administrator but, in Alison Prentice’s phrase, a “school promoter” as well. Through his speeches, his educational tours of the province, and the Journal of Education for Upper Canada, which he edited from 1848 to 1875, he reported the best ideas from home and abroad, exhorted local boards to introduce this or that new idea, and launched his own campaigns for such major innovations as free schools and compulsory education.

Part of his promotional task, perhaps the least welcome part, was to defend the place of grant-aided Roman Catholic separate schools within the system. Though these schools represented only a small proportion of the total number of schools in operation, they became the subject of prolonged political, religious, and sectional controversy in the mid 19th century. Though Ryerson had no a priori objections to denominational schools where a common faith was shared by the whole population, he did not approve of sectarian schools in a denominationally diverse society like Canada West. He thought such schools impractical in most parts of the country, divisive, and unnecessary on the grounds that all the essential, shared doctrines of Christianity could be taught in the elementary schools without reference to the peculiar doctrines of each sect. None the less he had inherited responsibility for the separate schools from the School Act of 1841 and could see no way of abolishing them, given the union of the Canadas which ensured the Catholic minority of Canada West the powerful support in the legislature of their Lower Canadian brethren. Thus Ryerson found himself repeatedly forced to defend the status quo, or to justify a succession of unpalatable political compromises on the issue, in an attempt to fend off both the abolitionists and those who sought the extension of the Catholic system. The additional rights won by Roman Catholics in 1853, 1855, and 1863 were modest compared to their demands; Ryerson was largely successful in preserving the unity of the school system. But his role made him appear to endorse the survival of the separate schools against the clearly expressed will of the majority of politicians and electors in Canada West, and kept him deeply embroiled in public debate from 1852 to 1865, when the issue was finally disposed of as part of the confederation settlement.

If Ryerson disliked the separate school controversy, however, it was because he believed the question to be insoluble and divisive, not because he thought it inappropriate for public servants to become involved in political questions. The modern conventions of civil service neutrality and anonymity were still in a formative stage in the period and Ryerson stands out as a Canadian example of that transitional group of mid-Victorian reformer-bureaucrats whom George Kitson Clark has labelled “statesmen in disguise.” Because Ryerson believed that the disposition of educational issues should not be subject to politics or partyism, he had made the Education Office a semi-autonomous agency with no distinct ministerial head. Though formally responsible to the Executive Council, Ryerson himself assumed an almost ministerial role. He established policy, sought political support for it inside and outside parliament, and defended it in public. Moreover his notion of his public duty transcended responsibility to a particular ministry or even parliament. In effect he saw himself as the guardian of the public interest in all educational matters. Even in the late 1860s Ryerson did not think it anomalous, when his own views conflicted with those of a member of the cabinet, to confront the minister with the threat that he would take his side of the case directly to the public. Nor did he feel constrained to keep his activities within the formal jurisdiction of his office. While in England in 1851, for example, he acted as an emissary for the administration to the Colonial Office on the clergy reserves issue and published anonymous letters on the same subject in the Times. He regularly exchanged political gossip and advice with politicians to whom he was personally close, especially William Draper, Francis Hincks, and John A. Macdonald*, and on at least one occasion privately used his influence among Methodist leaders to sway their politics and their votes.

Throughout his superintendency, moreover, he remained an active participant in the affairs of Upper Canadian Methodism. With the exception of the year 1854–55, when a brief but tempestuous dispute over the rights of Methodist ministers to require attendance at class meetings led to Ryerson’s temporary resignation from conference, he continued to serve on important conference committees, including the board of Victoria College. In the late 1860s and in the 1870s he was an active supporter at conference of the negotiations for Methodist union and was honoured in 1874 for his contributions to the institutional development of Canadian Methodism by his election as the first president of the Methodist Church of Canada. This continuing clerical role, however, involved him once again in a highly contentious political issue, the university question.

Ryerson always claimed that he was a warm supporter of a provincial university, and no doubt he was in the sense that he generally supported any measure that would sustain effective professional schools and provide common standards for examinations and degrees among the various colleges in the province. Indeed he himself had written the original draft of Hincks’s University Act of 1853, which incorporated these ideas. But Ryerson was also a resolute defender of the denominational colleges as agencies for ensuring a Christian education and environment for young men who did not live at home. And he had an immense personal commitment to the survival of Victoria College, which he had done so much to foster in the 1830s and 1840s. For both reasons he was an energetic supporter of public aid to the denominational colleges throughout the 1850s and 1860s. He took a leading role between 1859 and 1863 in the concerted attempt by several denominations to force the government to give them access to the funds of the University of Toronto and in the abortive campaign in 1868 to prevent the new government of Ontario from abolishing the existing grants to the denominational colleges. In the controversy surrounding the question, Ryerson always attempted to claim the high ground as champion of the interests of Christianity and high standards in education. But to those who believed in the virtues of a civic university, free from sectarian control and large enough to offer a comprehensive liberal and professional education, he inevitably appeared as the partisan of denominational self-interest and sectarian political scheming.

The 1850s were for Ryerson among the most satisfying years of his life. He had experienced his share of personal tragedy in the two previous decades with the deaths of his first wife and both their children. By the 1850s, however, he and his second wife had settled in a comfortable house in Toronto, and had two growing children, Charles Egerton and Sophia. Though Charlie was a constant worry to his father because of his lack of earnestness and studiousness, he became a welcome sporting and sailing companion later in Ryerson’s life. Sophie, as Ryerson’s warm and often moving letters to his daughter reveal, was the love of his life, particularly since his relationship with his second wife was somewhat distant and at times strained. The 1850s were also among his most productive years as superintendent. In a sequence of major legislation between 1850 and 1855 he had put the common school system in order, begun the reform of the grammar schools, and played a role in reshaping the provincial university. He was on close terms with most of the influential politicians of the day, and received broad support from both parties and from the provincial press; even the Globe found good things to say about him for much of the decade. He basked in the accolades of Lord Elgin during ceremonies connected with the building of the Normal School in Toronto, and was invited in 1854 to serve as a member of a commission of inquiry into the state of King’s College (University of New Brunswick) in Fredericton, N.B. Among other ornaments of public approbation he accumulated three honorary degrees: a dd from Wesleyan University, Middletown, Conn., in 1842; an ma from the University of Toronto in 1857; and an lld from Victoria College in 1861. His reputation and his public role seemed permanently and securely established.

Towards the end of the decade, however, both his personal and his professional circumstances became more troubled. In the late 1850s his pride was badly wounded by a contretemps with John Langton*, the provincial auditor. Langton, the first to admit that Ryerson was a superb administrator, had written in 1856 that Ryerson had “the genius of order and system,” and that “his accounts and vouchers are a model for all our public departments.” But between 1855 and 1857 Langton also discovered and exposed the fact that Ryerson had personally collected the interest on public funds held in his name. It was not an illegal practice at the time, and Ryerson believed he had ministerial approval for it, but it was also ceasing to be acceptable conduct in the public mind. He promised to pay back the entire amount and a sympathetic government granted him virtually the equivalent sum in back salary. But he was stung by the accusations against his probity and shaken by the way in which those charges remained current long after the issue had been formally settled. Then, in 1862, approaching the age of 60, Ryerson suffered a prolonged and severe illness marked by the recurrence of headaches, dizziness, and coughing. His illness forced him to reduce his traditional schedule of work and as he recovered in the succeeding years he took his first real vacations and embarked on a regimen of vigorous exercise. Among other things he built a skiff, and over the next few years sailed and rowed nine times from Toronto to Long Point, five of these adventures, much to the consternation of friends and family, being undertaken alone. Though he would regain much of his strength by the mid 1860s, he would suffer relapses for the rest of his life and was never again able to carry the burden of work he had once borne.

From the late 1850s onwards, moreover, he discovered that there was a price to be paid for insulating the department from the political process, for he began to have difficulties persuading the politicians to interest themselves in his projects, carry forward his legislation, and defend him when he was under attack. These difficulties, perhaps more than anything else, convinced him by the late 1860s that a ministerial head was essential if the interests of the department and the school system were to be adequately protected. At the same time he began to accumulate a growing number of enemies. His public attack in 1858 on the educational policies of the short-lived coalition between George Brown and the Lower Canadian Reformers marked the reopening of hostilities between Ryerson and Brown which would last until the latter’s death. Along with this incident his role in the university question and his close relations with John A. Macdonald alienated many leading Brownite Liberals. Nor did Ryerson learn prudence from the political controversies in which he found himself involved. When in 1867 the Reform party called for an end to coalitions and a return to party politics, Ryerson replied with a pamphlet entitled The new Canadian dominion: dangers and duties of the people in regard to their government, in which he returned to the themes of 1844, warning against the dangers of partyism – its “intolerance,” its “excesses and oppressions,” and the “unscrupulous partisanship” of “this hermaphrodite spawn of cast-off colonial despotism and selfishness.” All of this controversy contributed to what Oliver Mowat* would describe, in a letter to Ryerson in 1873, as “the antagonism towards you which has so long prevailed in the Liberal party.”

Illness and the frustrations of public life led Ryerson to talk sporadically about retirement throughout the 1860s. At the same time, however, he was anxious to complete his agenda for educational reform. In 1866–67 he made his last educational tour of Europe and America, out of which came two reports, written in 1868: one on the education of the deaf, dumb, and blind, and the other on the state of American and European education along with recommendations for the improvement of the Ontario system. Late in the same year he submitted draft legislation designed to improve the details of school law and to introduce universal free elementary education, compulsory attendance, and a new structure for secondary education.

His initial hopes for quick and easy passage of the school bill were soon dashed. In part this disappointment was due to the constant attacks mounted by the opposition Liberals, many of them directed at Ryerson personally. But it was also due to the emergence of real public debate about a wide variety of educational issues. Differences of opinion in the legislature and the press, along with opposition to parts of the bill from teachers’ organizations and from local opinion expressed during Ryerson’s tour of the province in 1869, led to the temporary withdrawal of the bill and to considerable modification of it. The new School Act, finally passed early in 1871, contained most of Ryerson’s major recommendations in one form or another and remains as one of the great landmarks of his career. But it was passed amidst a degree of political debate and personal bitterness not experienced by Ryerson since the late 1840s.

Ryerson’s last years in office were unhappy ones. Again some of this unhappiness was due to the political and personal antagonisms among Liberals over the previous 30 years – antagonisms that boiled over in 1872 in his bitter and sustained public conflict with Edward Blake*. But it was not merely a matter of personalities and political differences. From the administration of John Sandfield Macdonald* onwards, successive ministries were determined to regularize the procedures of the Education Office and, more importantly, to exercise a firm hand in educational policy-making. In Ryerson’s view this effort was an invasion of his prerogatives as well as a denigration of his own role to that of “a clerk,” and seemed motivated by the most base political partisanship. Each incursion – from the simple attempt by the provincial treasurer in 1868 to impose financial controls on the department to the suspension of his school regulations in 1872 and the plans to modify his book depository – was met with resistance and, too often, with a barrage of invective hurled at those he conceived to be his persecutors. In 1872 Blake seemed to invite conflict; Mowat was far more conciliatory. He sought Ryerson’s advice, allowed him considerable latitude in the administration of the department, and applied liberal amounts of soft sawder when Ryerson’s sensitivities were bruised. But he was no less determined than Blake to be his own master. As Mowat put it on one occasion when a quarrel threatened: “I would much rather cooperate with you . . . but if I must have a fight with the Chief Superintendent . . . instead of his co-operation, as in my position I ought to have, I must still do what I consider to be my duty.”

The conflicts of the years 1872–75 invited either resignation or dismissal. Yet neither option could be exercised. Ryerson repeatedly expressed a wish to resign but he did not have the financial resources to sustain himself independently: for years he had given generously to help finance a variety of Methodist causes including Victoria College, he had a nephew to educate, and he may also have lived somewhat beyond his means. Thus he needed to assure himself of a government pension and could not afford to make any grand gestures over policies with which he disagreed. Either Blake or Mowat would probably have welcomed his resignation but there were political difficulties in providing him with a permanent pension and differences within the Liberal party itself over the kind of reorganization the Education Office should undergo. Dismissal, on the other hand, was out of the question. Ryerson’s reputation remained high in many quarters and he was still, as even the Liberals recognized, a power among Methodist voters. It was not until late 1875 that Mowat finally took the matter in hand, and made the decision to create a ministry of education [see Adam Crooks] and to provide a pension for Ryerson. He formally left office in February 1876, just over a month before his 73rd birthday.

Retirement, however, did not mean a life of leisure. Since the early 1860s Ryerson had devoted his spare moments to what he was convinced was his last “mission” in life – a history of the United Empire Loyalists. In 1876 the project became his full-time occupation and most of that year was spent in England where he put in long hours of research in the British Museum. Over the succeeding five years he finished the two large volumes that make up The loyalists of America and their times. Beyond that he completed a school textbook on political economy and a history of Canadian Methodism. He was working on his autobiography when, in the summer of 1881, his health began to fail. He died on 19 Feb. 1882. Following a large and impressive funeral service he was buried in Mount Pleasant Cemetery, Toronto.

Ryerson’s life spans the growth of Upper Canada virtually from first settlement to the social and economic maturity of the 1870s. For most of those years he was a major figure in its history. Particularly before 1850 he played a central part in the institutional growth of Methodism, one of the province’s largest denominations. As well, he helped to articulate and publicize “the grievances of Upper Canada,” and contributed to the debate about the nature of colonial-imperial relations. If most historians now reject an older view that Ryerson determined single-handed the results of the elections of 1836 and 1844, still he remains an influential figure in these events and one of the leading spokesmen for that majority of Upper Canadians who sought some middle way to reconcile self-government and the imperial tie.

But it is his contribution to Canadian education that remains his greatest legacy. He was one of the founders of Victoria College, its first principal, and a generous benefactor through some of its most difficult years. He was a vigorous protagonist of the right of all the denominational colleges to survive and prosper in the province. And he attempted to make the grant-aided schools universal and comprehensive and to create an effective system of public administration at both the local and provincial levels.

Few of his educational ideas were original. John Strachan, for one, had anticipated many of them, while others were the common coinage of an era when school systems were being constructed in many different places. Nor was his vision without flaws. He had an unsure hand when it came to providing for the advanced education of young women. To some of his contemporaries his version of non-denominationalism in education appeared as little more than a disguised and proselytizing form of evangelical Protestantism. And his hopes for social improvement through education were vitiated by a belief, widely shared by his generation, that social and economic inequalities were the unchangeable realities of man’s fallen estate. During his lifetime there were already divergent views about the merits of the school system, and since his death the assessments of his work have been diverse and conflicting. But on one point there has been consensus. More than any other person Ryerson gave the Ontario school system its particular character, one that, because of his enormous influence in his own generation, would become during the later 19th century a model for most of English-speaking Canada.

Arrangement conception

Saturated imagination

Individual varieties

Saul Becker

Shore

46x86in | oil on linen on panel

www.saulbecker.com/paint-draw09.html

Horton & Liu

Slow Photography Sep 17 - Oct 11, 2009

Sunday LES, 237 Eldridge Street, New York, NY 10002

www.sundaynyc.com +1 212 253 0700

The phrase, "slow photography," might conjure images of large format cameras or glass plate techniques; even the idea of loading film may seem slow considering the efficient speed in which photographic images are created today. However, another connotation may not allude to a technology so much as it does a sensibility — an approach to understanding particular roles that photographs can play, a methodical and drawn out way to produce paintings. The three artists in Slow Photography use photography as a starting point, taking exorbitant amounts of time to produce ostensible "photos": paintings that appear to translate a photographic record, yet are something else entirely.

Lauren Warner's paintings of geyser eruptions revel in nature as a spectacle amusement park, coyly satisfying consumers’ desires for precise moments of ecstasy and picture perfect action shots. Warner's "greatest hits" of Old Faithful are a reminder that nature, in all its glory, can be consumed in ways similar to a sporting event, a spectacle to gaze upon. Lauren Warner (b. 1977, Cincinnati, OH) lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. Her works were seen most recently in the prestigious Traveling Scholars exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, MA, where she received a grant to research and document the geysers of Yellowstone National Park.

Daniel Rich's painstaking working process starts with photographs primarily plucked from magazines, newspapers and other media outlets. The artist's exacting methods of enlarging, cropping, cutting, masking and color-coding offers an altered vantage point to understanding media imagery. To replicate a photograph in such a manner would not have the same impact without Rich's particular and disciplined approach and manipulations. Daniel Rich (b. 1977, Ulm, Germany) lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. In addition to SUNDAY, his work has been featured at Perry Rubenstein and Elizabeth Dee galleries, New York, NY, as well as the Maramotti Collection, Reggio Emilia, Italy. Rich’s second solo show at SUNDAY is scheduled for April 2010.

Saul Becker's paintings might seem "natural" in that they appear to depict an actual space, however, they are in fact a seamless combination of photographs from disparate landscapes. These photos, along with impressions from the artist's memory, create his measured, deliberate and lonely paintings. Becker has an acute disquiet that portrays the landscape as eerily strong and resilient, but never heroic. The photographic vantage point often acts as a subtle overseer, a reminder that the camera has forever distorted how anyone sees nature. Saul Becker (b. 1975, Tacoma, WA) lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. In addition to Horton & Co. and SUNDAY, his work has been featured in solo projects at Artists Space and Volta NY. His work has been discussed in The New York Times, The New Yorker, and NY Arts Magazine, among others. His work is in the collection of Wellington Management, Boston, MA, as well as the Progressive Art Collection, Cleveland, OH.

hortonliu.com/exhibition/61/pr

Related SML

+ SML Fine Art (Flickr Group)

Fogg Dam Conservation Reserve, Middle Point, Northern Territory, Australia.

The green oriole or Australasian yellow oriole, (Oriolus flavocinctus) is an inconspicuous inhabitant of lush tropical vegetation throughout New Guinea and northern Australia, including Cape York Peninsula, the Top End and the Kimberley.

Green orioles forage slowly and methodically through the mid and upper strata of dense forests, taking fruit in the main. Typically alone or in pairs, they sometimes form small flocks in the non-breeding season. They are often difficult to locate, as their yellow-green plumage blends with the foliage and only their deep bubbling musical calls can be heard. They are nevertheless common in suitable habitat: rainforests, mangroves, thickets along watercourses, swamps, and lush gardens.

Breeding takes place during the wet season (October to March). A neat, deep cup is constructed from strips of bark and vines, lined with rootlets, and slung between leafy branches, usually 5 to 15 metres up. They typically lay 2 eggs.

Source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_oriole

Methodically scouring each step.

Well. The weather sensors yesterday forecasted Cold and snow. And I just want the country to know. The girls passed with flying colors.

And some of you may not know. To keep those nipples working at peak( literally and figuratively) efficiency. After such a forecast such as yesterday. The equipment needs to be re-calibrated. But don't fear. Sandra volunteered with that lizard tongue of hers. And the girls responded astonishingly.

Standing up to her wildest methodical scrutiny standards.

Why I believe, they are even better than before. Sensing the mildest subtle change causing a moaning like alert that can go to a all out scream . Able to be heard by neighbors all around us, I've been told, fiddley dee!!!

And we live quite a distance with very sound proof insulation.

So........ Be happy. And....The weather outside , may be frightful.. But my nipples are so delightful. And since we have no where to go..... Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow......

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Outlining a Theory of General Creativity . .

. . on a 'Pataphysical projectory

Entropy ≥ Memory ● Creativity ²

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Study of the day:

"La dialectique héraclitéenne est insaisissable sans la théorie du logos qui la rend lumineuse. (...) . Sur ce chemin se rencontrent la lutte et l'harmonie des contraires, le fleuve et la guerre. La marche sur ce chemin, la démarche méthodique, nous fait voir que l'Un et le Tout sont liés et qu'Unité et Multiplicité se trouvent en relation de dialogue."

"The Heraclitean dialectics is elusive without the theory of logos that makes it luminous. (...). On this path are meeting control and harmony of the opposites, the river and the war. The walk on this path, the methodical approach, makes us see that the One and the Whole are related and that Unity and Multiplicity are in dialogue relation."

( Kostas Axelos - Héraclite et la philosophie )

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rectO-persO | E ≥ m.C² | co~errAnce | TiLt

The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death are a series of nineteen (twenty were originally constructed) intricately designed dollhouse-style dioramas created by Frances Glessner Lee (1878–1962), a pioneer in forensic science. Glessner Lee used her inheritance to establish a department of legal medicine at Harvard Medical School in 1936, and donated the first of the Nutshell Studies in 1946 for use in lectures on the subject of crime scene investigation. In 1966, the department was dissolved, and the dioramas went to the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office in Baltimore, Maryland, U.S. where they are on permanent loan and still used for forensic seminars.

The dioramas are detailed representations of death scenes that are composites of actual cases, created by Glessner Lee on a 1 inch to 1 foot (1:12) scale. She attended autopsies to ensure accuracy, and her attention to detail extended to having a wall calendar include the pages after the month of the incident, constructing openable windows, and wearing out-of-date clothing to obtain realistically worn fabric. The dioramas show tawdry and, in many cases, disheveled living spaces very different from Glessner Lee's own background. The dead include prostitutes and victims of domestic violence.

Glessner Lee called them the Nutshell Studies because the purpose of a forensic investigation is said to be to "convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell." Students were instructed to study the scenes methodically—Glessner Lee suggested moving the eyes in a clockwise spiral—and draw conclusions from the visual evidence. At conferences hosted by Glessner Lee, prominent crime-scene investigators were given 90 minutes to study each diorama.

Sorry not sorry for the green lynx mama spider spam! ;) I really adore these spiders. They are so interesting to watch. Very patient, methodical and pretty!

Editing to add: I checked on her this morning 10/4/13 (right outside of my work) - she's still there, thank goodness! I worry about when the maintenance people come by to clean up.. I hope that if she felt any bushes being trimmed/vibrations from a lawnmower, she would uproot and move elsewhere with her egg sac.

Another early morning shot from the 2012 Uptown Whittier Car Show. Featured here is Ron Medina's incredible 1963 Chevy Surburban parked along side other amazing cars from the So Cal Tribe car club. Smart guys that they are, they arrived early and got some primo parking spots in the shade of the big trees you see here. That shade came in handy when the temperature exceeded 100 degrees that afternoon. I was moving at my usual methodical pace, while Kathy was doing her usual ass kicking, take no prisoners, get-the-hell-out-of my-way pace. You can see her and her tripod in the upper left of this image. She had already shot the four cars between her and I not to mention the cars across the street. I get too fixated on one car for too long, trying to figure out what shot would look best. I really need to work on that. To quote Ferris Bueller Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

My first hummingbird moth! While over at my parent's house last week I saw this little guy feeding on a patch of bee balm. I didn't have a camera with me but fortunately when I returned the next day it was again at the same patch of flowers. Fun to watch, it moved from flower to flower very similar to a bumble bee with the exception that it never landed on the flower but hovered like a hummingbird at each petal as it worked its way methodically around each flower.

So glad I got to see one of these!

thegoldensieve.com

A good thing continues

Some six months ago, I posted almost 100 images and a few thoughts I felt were missing from the many existing RX1 reviews. The outpouring of support and interest in that article was very gratifying. When I published, I had used the camera for six full months, enough time to come to a view of its strengths and weaknesses and to produce a small portfolio of good images, but not enough time to see the full picture (pun intended). In the following six months, I have used the camera at least as frequently as in the first six and have produced another small set of good images. It should be noted that my usage of the RX1 in the last six (and especially in the last 3) months has involved less travel and more time with the family and around the house; I will share relatively few of these images but will spend some time sharing my impressions of its functionality for family snapshots as I am sure there is some interest. And let it be said here: one of the primary motivations to purchase the camera was to take more photos with the family, and after one full year I can confidently say: money well spent.

The A7/r game-changer?

In the past six months, Sony have announced and released two full-frame, interchangeable lens cameras that clearly take design cues from the RX1: the A7 and the A7r. These cameras are innovative and highly capable and, as such, are in the midst of taking the photography world by storm. I think they are compelling enough cameras that I wonder whether Sony is wasting its energy continuing to develop further A-mount cameras. Sony deserve credit for a bold strategy—many companies would have been content to allow the success of the the RX1 (and RX1R) generate further sales before pushing further into the white space left unexplored by camera makers with less ambition.This is not the place to detail the relative advantages and disadvantages of the RX1 versus the A7/r except to make the following point. I currently use a Nikon D800 and an RX1: were I to sell both and purchase the A7r + 35mm f/2.8 I would in many ways lose nothing by way of imaging capability or lens compatibility but would pocket the surplus $1250-1750. Indeed this loyal Nikon owner thought long and hard about doing so, which speaks to the strategic importance of these cameras for a company trying to make inroads into a highly concentrated market.Ultimately, I opted to hang onto the two cameras I have (although this decision is one that I revisit time and time again) and continue to use them as I have for the past year. Let me give you a quick flavor of why.

The RX1 is smaller and more discrete

This is a small a point, but my gut reaction to the A7/r was: much smaller than the D800, not as small as the RX1. The EVF atop the A7/r and the larger profile of interchangeable mount lenses means that I would not be able to slip the A7/r into a pocket the way I can the RX1. Further, by virtue of using the EVF and its loud mechanical shutter, the A7/r just isn’t as stealthy as the RX1. Finally, f/2 beats the pants off of f/2.8 at the same or smaller size.At this point, some of you may be saying, “Future Sony releases will allow you to get a body without an EVF and get an f/2 lens that has a slimmer profile, etc, etc.” And that’s just the point: to oversimplify things, the reason I am keeping my RX1 is that Sony currently offers something close to an A7 body without a built-in EVF and with a slimmer profile 35mm f/2.

The D800 has important functional advantages

On the other side of the spectrum, the AF speed of the A7/r just isn’t going to match the D800, especially when the former is equipped with a Nikon lens and F-mount adapter. EVFs cannot yet match the experience of looking through the prism and the lens (I expect they will match soon, but aren’t there yet). What’s more, I have made such an investment in Nikon glass that I can’t yet justify purchasing an adapter for a Sony mount or selling them all for Sony’s offerings (many of which aren’t to market yet).Now, all of these are minor points and I think all of them disappear with an A8r, but they add up to something major: I have two cameras very well suited to two different types of shooting, and I ask myself if I gain or lose by getting something in between—something that wasn’t quite a pocket shooter and something that was quite a DSLR? You can imagine, however, that if I were coming to the market without a D800 and an RX1, that my decision would be far different: dollar for dollar, the A7/r would be a no-brainer.During the moments when I consider selling to grab an A7r, I keep coming back to a thought I had a month or so before the RX1 was announced. At that time I was considering something like the NEX cameras with a ZM 21mm f/2.8 and I said in my head, “I wish someone would make a carry-around camera with a full frame sensor and a fixed 35mm f/2.8 or f/2.” Now you understand how attractive the RX1 is to me and what a ridiculously high bar exists for another camera system to reach.

Okay, so what is different from the last review?

For one, I had an issue with the camera’s AF motor failing to engage and giving me an E61:00 error. I had to send it out to Sony for repairs (via extended warranty and service plan). I detailed my experience with Sony Service here [insert link] and I write to you as a very satisfied customer. That is to say, I have 3 years left on a 4 year + accidental damage warranty and I feel confident enough in that coverage to say that I will have this beauty in working order for at least another 3 years.For two, I’ve spent significantly less time thinking of this camera as a DSLR replacement and have instead started to develop a very different way of shooting with it. The activation barrier to taking a shot with my D800 is quite high. Beyond having to bring a large camera wherever you go and have it in hand, a proper camera takes two hands and full attention to produce an image. I shoot slowly and methodically and often from a tripod with the D800. In contrast, I can pull the RX1 out, pop off the lens cap, line up and take a shot with one hand (often with a toddler in the other). This fosters a totally different type of photography.

My “be-there” camera

The have-everywhere camera that gives DSLR type controls to one-handed shooting lets me pursue images that happen very quickly or images that might not normally meet the standards of “drag-the-DSLR-out-of-the-bag.” Many of those images you’ll see on this post. A full year of shooting and I can say this with great confidence: the RX1 is a terrific mash-up of point-and-shoot and DSLR not just in image quality and features, but primarily in the product it helps me create. To take this thinking a bit further: I find myself even processing images from the RX1 differently than I would from my DSLR. So much so that I have strongly considered starting a tumblr and posting JPEGs directly from the RX1 via my phone or an iPad rather than running the bulk of them through Lightroom, onto Flickr and then on the blog (really this is just a matter of time, stay tuned, and those readers who have experience with tumblr, cloud image storage and editing, etc, etc, please contact me, I want to pick your brain).Put simply, I capture more spontaneous and beautiful “moments” than I might have otherwise. Photography is very much an exercise in “f/8 and be there,” and the RX1 is my go-to “be there” camera.

The family camera

I mentioned earlier that I justified the purchase of the RX1 partly as a camera to be used to document the family moments into which a DSLR doesn’t neatly fit. Over the past year I’ve collected thousands and thousands of family images with the RX1. The cold hard truth is that many of those photos could be better if I’d taken a full DSLR kit with me to the park or the beach or the grocery store each time. The RX1 is a difficult camera to use on a toddler (or any moving subject for that matter); autofocus isn’t as fast as a professional DSLR, it’s difficult to perfectly compose via an LCD (especially in bright sunlight), but despite these shortcomings, it’s been an incredibly useful family camera. There are simply so many beautiful moments where I had the RX1 over my shoulder, ready to go that whatever difficulties exist relative to a DSLR, those pale in comparison to the power of it’s convenience. The best camera is the one in your hand.

Where to go from here.

So what is the value of these RX1 going forward, especially in a world of the A7/r and it’s yet-to-be-born siblings without an EVF and a pancake lens? Frankly, at its current price (which is quite fair when you consider the value of the the body and the lens) I see precious little room for an independent offering versus a mirrorless, interchangeable lens system with the same image quality in a package just as small. That doesn’t mean Sony won’t make an RX2 or an RX1 Mark II (have a look at it’s other product lines to see how many SKUs are maintained despite low demand). Instead, I see the RX1 as a bridge that needed to exist for engineers, managers, and the market to make it to the A7/r and it’s descendants.A Facebook friend recently paid me a great compliment; he said something like, “Justin, via your blog, you’ve sold a ton of RX1 cameras.” Indeed, despite my efforts not to be a salesman, I think he’s right: I have and would continue to recommend this camera.The true value of the RX1 going forward is for those of us who have the thing on our shoulders; and yes, if you have an investment in and a love for a DSLR system, there’s still tremendous value in getting one, slinging it over your shoulder, and heading out into the wide, bright world; A7/r or no, this is just an unbelievably capable camera.

thegoldensieve.com

A good thing continues

Some six months ago, I posted almost 100 images and a few thoughts I felt were missing from the many existing RX1 reviews. The outpouring of support and interest in that article was very gratifying. When I published, I had used the camera for six full months, enough time to come to a view of its strengths and weaknesses and to produce a small portfolio of good images, but not enough time to see the full picture (pun intended). In the following six months, I have used the camera at least as frequently as in the first six and have produced another small set of good images. It should be noted that my usage of the RX1 in the last six (and especially in the last 3) months has involved less travel and more time with the family and around the house; I will share relatively few of these images but will spend some time sharing my impressions of its functionality for family snapshots as I am sure there is some interest. And let it be said here: one of the primary motivations to purchase the camera was to take more photos with the family, and after one full year I can confidently say: money well spent.

The A7/r game-changer?

In the past six months, Sony have announced and released two full-frame, interchangeable lens cameras that clearly take design cues from the RX1: the A7 and the A7r. These cameras are innovative and highly capable and, as such, are in the midst of taking the photography world by storm. I think they are compelling enough cameras that I wonder whether Sony is wasting its energy continuing to develop further A-mount cameras. Sony deserve credit for a bold strategy—many companies would have been content to allow the success of the the RX1 (and RX1R) generate further sales before pushing further into the white space left unexplored by camera makers with less ambition.This is not the place to detail the relative advantages and disadvantages of the RX1 versus the A7/r except to make the following point. I currently use a Nikon D800 and an RX1: were I to sell both and purchase the A7r + 35mm f/2.8 I would in many ways lose nothing by way of imaging capability or lens compatibility but would pocket the surplus $1250-1750. Indeed this loyal Nikon owner thought long and hard about doing so, which speaks to the strategic importance of these cameras for a company trying to make inroads into a highly concentrated market.Ultimately, I opted to hang onto the two cameras I have (although this decision is one that I revisit time and time again) and continue to use them as I have for the past year. Let me give you a quick flavor of why.

The RX1 is smaller and more discrete

This is a small a point, but my gut reaction to the A7/r was: much smaller than the D800, not as small as the RX1. The EVF atop the A7/r and the larger profile of interchangeable mount lenses means that I would not be able to slip the A7/r into a pocket the way I can the RX1. Further, by virtue of using the EVF and its loud mechanical shutter, the A7/r just isn’t as stealthy as the RX1. Finally, f/2 beats the pants off of f/2.8 at the same or smaller size.At this point, some of you may be saying, “Future Sony releases will allow you to get a body without an EVF and get an f/2 lens that has a slimmer profile, etc, etc.” And that’s just the point: to oversimplify things, the reason I am keeping my RX1 is that Sony currently offers something close to an A7 body without a built-in EVF and with a slimmer profile 35mm f/2.

The D800 has important functional advantages

On the other side of the spectrum, the AF speed of the A7/r just isn’t going to match the D800, especially when the former is equipped with a Nikon lens and F-mount adapter. EVFs cannot yet match the experience of looking through the prism and the lens (I expect they will match soon, but aren’t there yet). What’s more, I have made such an investment in Nikon glass that I can’t yet justify purchasing an adapter for a Sony mount or selling them all for Sony’s offerings (many of which aren’t to market yet).Now, all of these are minor points and I think all of them disappear with an A8r, but they add up to something major: I have two cameras very well suited to two different types of shooting, and I ask myself if I gain or lose by getting something in between—something that wasn’t quite a pocket shooter and something that was quite a DSLR? You can imagine, however, that if I were coming to the market without a D800 and an RX1, that my decision would be far different: dollar for dollar, the A7/r would be a no-brainer.During the moments when I consider selling to grab an A7r, I keep coming back to a thought I had a month or so before the RX1 was announced. At that time I was considering something like the NEX cameras with a ZM 21mm f/2.8 and I said in my head, “I wish someone would make a carry-around camera with a full frame sensor and a fixed 35mm f/2.8 or f/2.” Now you understand how attractive the RX1 is to me and what a ridiculously high bar exists for another camera system to reach.

Okay, so what is different from the last review?

For one, I had an issue with the camera’s AF motor failing to engage and giving me an E61:00 error. I had to send it out to Sony for repairs (via extended warranty and service plan). I detailed my experience with Sony Service here [insert link] and I write to you as a very satisfied customer. That is to say, I have 3 years left on a 4 year + accidental damage warranty and I feel confident enough in that coverage to say that I will have this beauty in working order for at least another 3 years.For two, I’ve spent significantly less time thinking of this camera as a DSLR replacement and have instead started to develop a very different way of shooting with it. The activation barrier to taking a shot with my D800 is quite high. Beyond having to bring a large camera wherever you go and have it in hand, a proper camera takes two hands and full attention to produce an image. I shoot slowly and methodically and often from a tripod with the D800. In contrast, I can pull the RX1 out, pop off the lens cap, line up and take a shot with one hand (often with a toddler in the other). This fosters a totally different type of photography.

My “be-there” camera

The have-everywhere camera that gives DSLR type controls to one-handed shooting lets me pursue images that happen very quickly or images that might not normally meet the standards of “drag-the-DSLR-out-of-the-bag.” Many of those images you’ll see on this post. A full year of shooting and I can say this with great confidence: the RX1 is a terrific mash-up of point-and-shoot and DSLR not just in image quality and features, but primarily in the product it helps me create. To take this thinking a bit further: I find myself even processing images from the RX1 differently than I would from my DSLR. So much so that I have strongly considered starting a tumblr and posting JPEGs directly from the RX1 via my phone or an iPad rather than running the bulk of them through Lightroom, onto Flickr and then on the blog (really this is just a matter of time, stay tuned, and those readers who have experience with tumblr, cloud image storage and editing, etc, etc, please contact me, I want to pick your brain).Put simply, I capture more spontaneous and beautiful “moments” than I might have otherwise. Photography is very much an exercise in “f/8 and be there,” and the RX1 is my go-to “be there” camera.

The family camera

I mentioned earlier that I justified the purchase of the RX1 partly as a camera to be used to document the family moments into which a DSLR doesn’t neatly fit. Over the past year I’ve collected thousands and thousands of family images with the RX1. The cold hard truth is that many of those photos could be better if I’d taken a full DSLR kit with me to the park or the beach or the grocery store each time. The RX1 is a difficult camera to use on a toddler (or any moving subject for that matter); autofocus isn’t as fast as a professional DSLR, it’s difficult to perfectly compose via an LCD (especially in bright sunlight), but despite these shortcomings, it’s been an incredibly useful family camera. There are simply so many beautiful moments where I had the RX1 over my shoulder, ready to go that whatever difficulties exist relative to a DSLR, those pale in comparison to the power of it’s convenience. The best camera is the one in your hand.

Where to go from here.

So what is the value of these RX1 going forward, especially in a world of the A7/r and it’s yet-to-be-born siblings without an EVF and a pancake lens? Frankly, at its current price (which is quite fair when you consider the value of the the body and the lens) I see precious little room for an independent offering versus a mirrorless, interchangeable lens system with the same image quality in a package just as small. That doesn’t mean Sony won’t make an RX2 or an RX1 Mark II (have a look at it’s other product lines to see how many SKUs are maintained despite low demand). Instead, I see the RX1 as a bridge that needed to exist for engineers, managers, and the market to make it to the A7/r and it’s descendants.A Facebook friend recently paid me a great compliment; he said something like, “Justin, via your blog, you’ve sold a ton of RX1 cameras.” Indeed, despite my efforts not to be a salesman, I think he’s right: I have and would continue to recommend this camera.The true value of the RX1 going forward is for those of us who have the thing on our shoulders; and yes, if you have an investment in and a love for a DSLR system, there’s still tremendous value in getting one, slinging it over your shoulder, and heading out into the wide, bright world; A7/r or no, this is just an unbelievably capable camera.