"The problem is that we have to be highly organised, completely methodical, completely regulated, but at the same time we have to be totally crazed and completely mental. So it's keeping a balance between these two ways, that is very important" - George Passmore

Stockholm's Gamla Stan is almost custom built for portrait backgrounds - narrow alleyways with slight curves and high buildings helping to give an even light across wider spreads of backdrop than often afforded to the photographer.

 

Lars is a Stockholm native since 1938, and was able to fill me in on some of their stories. This one is Prästgatan, which features in a number of folk songs. He also noted the changes over his time here - sadly tinged with the same trends as so many places; one can't leave a door unlocked any more, for instance.

 

Picking his way through the dense crowds attracted to the city centre by the "Vattenfall World Triathlon Stockholm 2014", Lars had struck me both for his meditative, intelligent gaze and his angelic white glow. In the shadows of the alleyway I'd test shot for a background, I hoped he would offer enough contrast to claim centre stage, and have the presence to justify it! In the shot we used just the sunfire (gold/silver striped) reflector with a -2 stop pop of fill flash from an on camera softbox. Together, as the softbox is so high, I find you end up with a kind of guerrilla clam shell light set-up. It's maybe not the most masculine lighting set up, but I think it does a good job of giving lars and his chic blazer an even pop of highlight against the darker alleyway.

 

Often I would clone out the bokeh highlight behind him, but in this case it felt appropriate - a sort of "light bulb moment" look to it, in keeping with Lars' quick intelligence.

 

He's a psychotherapist, and we talked about his work. He also showed me a book he'd picked up that morning; Death Of A Hero. It discusses the role of men in the modern world, in the light of recent trends in popular culture. Man, Lar notes, now graces our screens generally as an oaf, as a sports obsessed, greedy, lager craving beast. That's not to say that the portrayal of women has ever been adequately fair, he explains, just that the recent trend is aggressively pushed and men are left confused, challenged and in danger of losing their identity in the face of the media onslaught. It was a very interesting angle on the world to have explained with Lars' methodical intelligence and understated passion.

 

It's worth noting that world class cyclists were whizzing past us, about three metres in front of Lars, as we shot this. How on earth he maintains his serenity and focus, I don't know!

 

Lars - Thank you so much for your time. I hope you caught up with the rest of your party and like your portrait. Tack!

 

This is portrait #65 of my 100 Strangers Project - check out the group page and get involved.

 

Finally, I'm now live on Facebook; www.facebook.com/Flatworldsedge

Once I used other lenses; once there was light. Now there's just 1:1 magnification and a slow methodical rocking motion, seeking focus, always seeking focus...

 

We're Here, dark & a little bit lost.

 

Tripod-mounted remote triggered shutter & strobe selfie with the 80mm leaf shutter, with a hand-held macro of a toy skull partly chopped & floated over the top. Sundry amends to both images over multiple layers.

 

WakaWaka Pelcomb Portraits.

The Black-throated Blue Warbler (Setophaga caerulescens) is typically a bird of the deep forest, occupying spaces similar to Maleficent. In the spring and fall, however, these beautiful birds can often be seen out in gardens as they migrate north or south. Like Hooded Warblers, they will spend much of their time in the lower reaches of the forest, hunting insects in the understory. They are methodical hunters, combing every shrub in an area--and often ever branch of every shrub--before moving to the next.

The Green Herons are arriving back from Spring migration, and it's fun to watch them slowly and methodically seek out fish again!

There are times I surprise myself. This was one of those. Specifically: how did I manage to put a roll of Kodak Ektar 100 all the way through my Fuji G617 and then instead of dropping it off in the lab for development I somehow got it rewound and loaded it in my Hasselblad. What the heck was I thinking? On one hand, such inadvertent actions can be a bit painful. I am very methodical in my exposures and really pick my shots when shooting with either of those cameras, so the overlapped frames were ones I sorely did not want to see overlapped. Then again, I am a big fan of serendipity and long ago learned the less of patience with initial disappointment. Time has a way of fading memory which itself can take some of the hard edges off your assessments of photos. We will see what time does with this roll, but for the time being this image at least was somewhat interesting. The Hasselblad exposure was a nighttime shot of the downtown ice skating rink with the city behind it. The Fuji 617 image was a vertical of Lower South Falls in Silver Falls State Park.

 

It is a good reminder that all photographers make mistakes... and that there are no bad photos when everything you do teaches you something. In that case, every image has value, even if it never gets printed or scanned.

 

Hasselblad 500C/M +

Fuji G617

Kodak Ektar 100

JP slowly wanders up canyon at the Blackrock Well site. There is a lot to see. I'm always finished a panel before JP. He's a slow and methodical photographer. I'm more of a run and gun type.

 

Death Valley National Park

Seldom seen at eye-level, this cuckoo was just off the boardwalk in the understory; methodically picking off caterpillars. Magee.

(Egretta caerulea) - Little Blue Heron

 

A small, dark heron arrayed in moody blues and purples, the Little Blue Heron is a common but inconspicuous resident of marshes and estuaries in the Southeast. They stalk shallow waters for small fish and amphibians, adopting a quiet, methodical approach that can make these gorgeous herons surprisingly easy to overlook at first glance. Little Blue Herons build stick nests in trees alongside other colonial waterbirds. In the U.S., their populations have been in a gradual decline since the mid-twentieth century.

 

Read more at: www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Little_Blue_Heron/overview

  

Took this shot for some personal reasons, wanting to capture the random soft beauty of the beach, the waves, the sand and the blue skies in contrast to the methodical and precise beauty of the Conch Shell. Came to the beach for a few celebrations; this shell belonged to someone who was unable to make the trip.

 

Shot using a Canon EF-S10-18mm, f/4.5-5.6 IS STM lens, 17mm, f/11, 1/500sec mounted on a Canon 70D camera, handheld.

 

Comments and constructive feedback are always appreciated!

I like the render and woodwork.

I could not stand any further back due to fence and drop, so Even with just 24 mm lens, door just fits in. Church is quite tall. So this is taken with tilt shift lens, body vertically, lens shifted horizontally and at 30 ad 60 ' so 5 images merged. I had to clone in top right as missed that area. First attempt at shifting at 30 60' in addition to up down side; think useful to do this but need to be very methodical to work round the view.

We managed a stop at Addo, though sadly only a lunch stop. The 3 short hours we were there convinced me that I must stay there again one day, and make it a longer stay. This beautiful little sunbird appeared, working its way methodically along the line of shrubbery at the waterhole viewpoint where we were remembering our previous visit to Addo. I watched as it got closer and closer and ended up with this shot of it on the bush closest to me. Lovely!

 

As seen in "Rainbow of Nature Hall of Fame"

Hidden within the vegetation, this female Boat-tailed Grackle methodically tore off pieces of flesh as she hungrily consumed her meal. While her prey no longer resembled a frog, if you look closely the tiny discs of the frog's spinal cord are visible.

 

Location: Wakodahatchee Wetlands, Florida, United States of America

Got around to scanning some film this evening. This is one of those shots that no scan will ever do justice to. The only way to appreciate its magic is to see it on a light table. It's simply stunning!

 

Excluding the visual delights of seeing a shot like this on a light table, I think what I love most about shooting film is that it slows me down. I see a lot of people buying the latest digital gear and just blasting away without any conscious thought about why they're shooting.For example, a lot of people shoot this kind of photo in Colorado during the autumn. I've done a lot of shots myself. This is the first one I'm truly satisfied with. And it was taken on a 1963 vintage TLR on expired (but frozen) film. But the slow, methodical workflow of shooting film made me really contemplate what I wanted and this is my reward.

 

Kodak E100VS on a YashicaMat LM

After years of restoration efforts, Columbia River Belt Line Railway #7, the "Skookum" was finally able to perform for a Trains Magazine photo charter in March of 2019. Seen here running in the Nehalem River Canyon with a demonstration log train, #7 shows off her rare 2-4-4-2 configuration in equally rare Oregon sun. This image was captured near Roy Creek Park in the hamlet of Mohler, Oregon.

 

Built by the Baldwin Locomotive Works in 1909 as their builder's number 33463, this unusual 2-4-4-2 articulated, compound Mallet was intended for the Little River Railroad in Townsend, TN as their number 126. Unfortunately, that railroad quickly determined that she was too long for the tight curves on their line and she was returned to Baldwin. In 1910, Baldwin managed to resell her to the Columbia River Belt Line Railway in Blind Slough, OR, where she was put to work as a logging engine. That railroad typically named their locomotives rather than number them, and this engine received the name "Skookum", which is apparently a Chinook term, meaning large, powerful or impressive. She served the Columbia River Belt Line from 1910 through 1920, before being sold to the Carlisle-Pennell Lumber Company, where she acquired the number 7. After a four-year stint there, she served 4 other railroads, including the Deep River Logging Company, where her long career came to a sudden end in 1955, when she rolled over with a string of empty log bunks. Since that line was in the process of shutting down, no attempt was made to recover her and she was left in place.

 

In 1956, she was acquired by a man named Charles Morrow, who removed her from her wreck site in pieces....and she's spent the next 60 years in pieces, owned by several individuals and moved several different places. In 2005, she was acquired by Chris Baldo, who had her moved to the Oregon Coast Scenic Railroad, with the goal of restoring her. It's been a long road. Some pieces had been damaged when she was removed from the wreck site, and some pieces had been lost. Over the past 13 years, a restoration team has slowly and methodically restored her major components and re-assembled her into the condition you see here. She appeared in public for the first time at a Lerro Productions Charter in October of 2018, but alas, she was unable to perform for the photographers, because she still had some technical issues, including valve timing, which had to be tweaked and adjusted. After an additional 6 months of adjustments, repairs and break-in runs, she did make it out for the first of 2 photo charters organized by Trains Magazine, but alas, she still has some issues. She broke her second eccentric rod less than a week before the charter, and after additional repairs, suffered 2 tender brass failures during the charter. Each time, the railroad crews rapidly repaired her and she missed relatively little time during the event. Unfortunately, during her trip home on the second day, she broke her 3rd eccentric rod. Although repairs were initiated to get her ready for a second Trains event, the root cause of the issue had apparently yet to be found.

White-fronted Chat (male)

Epthianura albifrons

 

October 20th, 2025

Koorlong, Victoria, Australia

 

Canon EOS R5 Mark II

Canon EF 600mm f4L IS III USM lens

Canon EF 1.4x III Extender

 

A specialist of the open Mallee paddocks, the White-fronted Chat is a methodical ground-hunter, favouring a brisk, walking gait over the typical hop of other small birds. They patrol the low saltbush & dry earth, flushing out insects & spiders hidden within the sparse vegetation. While the flock is preoccupied with the hunt, a vigilant male will often take up a sentry position. From this vantage point, he keeps a sharp watch over the open terrain, his presence ensuring the group can forage in safety across the exposed landscape.

Mi buen amigo Jose Ignacio y yo estamos embarcados en una estrambótica competición para dilucidar quién de los dos vive la experiencia fotográfica más disparatada y desoladora. Cuando vamos juntos, lo habitual es que las más variopintas calamidades se alíen para arruinar un día de trenes que en principio parecía alentador. Y en solitario acumulamos un sinfín de infortunios que podrían descorazonar al más estoico y flemático de los aficionados ferroviarios. Hace unas pocas semanas mi querido colega puso el listón muy alto, a un nivel prácticamente inalcanzable para cualquier mortal. Gran amante de El Directo, José Ignacio se desplazó desde San Sebastián hasta Lerma con la intención de fotografiar el bobinero de Captrain en su retorno a Bilbao. Hombre metódico y precavido, ya estaba perfectamente situado media hora antes del paso del único tren que iba a circular ante su cámara en toda la mañana. Lo que no sabía mi desafortunado amigo es que el tren ya había pasado por Lerma quince minutos antes de su llegada porque había partido de Aranda mucho antes de lo habitual. Pero él desconocía ese crucial detalle y como el hombre con una moral granítica que es, allí se quedó esperando durante cuatro horas sin más compañía que la de un sol implacable martirizándolo sin piedad. Y no fue la reciedumbre del verano burgalés la que lo desalojó de su malhadada atalaya sino una imponente tormenta de granizo que se formó en un abrir y cerrar de ojos. Más rápido que el rayo, encontró refugio en su coche y huyó despavorido de la endemoniada Lerma. Cuando ya se creía a salvo, se detuvo en Grisaleña por si los dioses se apiadaban de él y le obsequiaban con la aparición de un mercante gracias al cual no volvería a casa de vacío. Pero no. La tormenta había seguido su rastro y cuando lo encontró le golpeó de nuevo con virulencia y con saña. No quedaba otra que volver a San Sebastián con el sabor de la derrota en el paladar y siendo consciente de que había conducido 500 kilómetros para nada.

Semejante infortunio es prácticamente imposible de superar pero el viernes pasado estuve a punto de hacerlo. Por Bilbao tenemos estos días al Tramesa circulando con una rutilante Bitrac con los colores de Captrain y ese es motivo más que suficiente para salir a la vía en estos tiempos tan aciagos para el aficionado. Así que me acerqué hasta este punto situado en Orduña que gracias a una reciente siega ha mejorado mucho, aunque ahora hay un árbol que ha crecido tanto que no te permite ganar altura. Una foto fácil, sencilla y muy cerca de casa. Un plan genial.....Pues no. El tren se retrasaba más de la cuenta y ya me temía que estaría averiado no muy lejos de Orduña porque lo habían visto pasar por Amurrio con normalidad. Cuando menos me lo esperaba (y con más de media hora de retraso) apareció a lo lejos desplazándose como una tortuga hasta que se detuvo a unos doscientos metros de mi posición. Yo dudaba entre moverme para fotografiarlo donde se había detenido o quedarme donde estaba por si arrancaba de repente. Estuve dándole vueltas a la situación durante cinco interminables minutos hasta que el tren hizo lo más inesperado y catastrófico: retroceder hasta la estación de Orduña. La cara de tonto que se te queda en ese momento es indescriptible pero, al menos, la mascarilla tiene la ventaja de ocultar tus emociones y parecer lo que no eres: un hombre hierático. ¿Qué hacer en un momento como ese? ¿Esperar? ¿Ir a la estación de Orduña? ¿Volver a casa? Tras darle muchas vueltas, decidí acercarme a la estación de Orduña donde la foto que se le podía hacer al tren era espantosa pero donde al menos pude contactar con el simpático maquinista gracias al cual supe que la máquina tenía un problema técnico y que la parada iba a ser muy larga. Intenté hacer alguna foto decente del tren pero con muy poca fortuna y cuando me iba a marchar para casa el maquinista me avisó de que partiría hacia Aranda en diez minutos. Salí disparado al punto elegido para fotografiarlo y casi me vuelvo loco de alegría cuando apareció 90 minutos más tarde de su teórica hora de circulación. Suerte de mascarilla, porque la cara de bobo que puse al verlo tampoco debió ser la más indicada como para usarla de foto de perfil en Tinder.

Final feliz, sí, nada que ver con lo que sufrió mi amigo José Ignacio. Pero recordad que esta iba a ser una foto fácil. Por cierto, el tren volvió a averiarse en Lezama, pero esa es otra historia.

  

My good friend Jose Ignacio and I are engaged in a bizarre competition to figure out who of us is having the most crazy and daunting photographic experience. When we go together, it is usual for the most varied calamities to join forces to ruin a train day that at first seemed encouraging. And alone we accumulate endless misfortunes that could discourage even the most stoic and phlegmatic of railway fans. A few weeks ago my dear colleague set the bar very high, to a level practically unattainable for any mortal. A great lover of El Directo, José Ignacio traveled from San Sebastián to Lerma with the intention of photographing the Captrain steel freight on its return to Bilbao. A methodical and cautious man, he was already perfectly situated half an hour before the passage of the only train that was going to circulate in front of his camera all morning. What my unfortunate friend did not know is that the train had already passed through Lerma fifteen minutes before his arrival because it had left Aranda much earlier than usual. But he was unaware of that crucial detail and, like the man with a granite morality that he is, he waited there for four hours with no company other than that of an implacable sun beating him mercilessly. And it was not the harshness of the Burgos summer that dislodged him from his ill-fated vantage point but rather an imposing hail storm that formed in the blink of an eye. Faster than lightning, he found refuge in his car and fled in terror from the demonized Lerma. When he thought he was safe, he stopped in Grisaleña in case the gods took pity on him and presented him with the appearance of a freight thanks to which he would not return home empty. But no. The storm had followed his trail and when it found him it struck him again with virulence and viciousness. There was no choice but to return to San Sebastián with the taste of defeat on the palate and being aware that he had driven 500 kilometers for nothing.

 

Such misfortune is practically impossible to overcome but last Friday I was on the verge of doing it. Through Bilbao these days we have this Tramesa freight circulating with a glittering Bitrac in Captrain colors and that is more than enough reason to hit the road in these unfortunate times for fans. So I approached this point located in Orduña, which thanks to a recent harvest has improved a lot, although now there is a tree that has grown so much that it does not allow you to gain height. An easy, simple photo and very close to home. A great plan ..... Well no. The train was delayed more than necessary and I was already afraid that it would be damaged not far from Orduña because a friend had seen it pass through Amurrio normally. When I least expected it (and with more than half an hour late) it appeared in the distance moving like a turtle until it stopped about two hundred meters from my position. I was hesitant between moving to photograph it where it had stopped or staying where it was in case it suddenly started. I was thinking about the situation for five interminable minutes until the train did the most unexpected and catastrophic thing: back to Orduña station. The silly face that you have at that moment is indescribable but, at least, the mask has the advantage of hiding your emotions and appearing what you are not: a hieratic man. What to do at a time like that? Wait? Go to Orduña station? Back home? After thinking about it many times, I decided to go to the Orduña station where the photo that could be taken of the train was terrible but where at least I was able to contact the friendly engineer thanks to whom I learned that the machine had a technical problem and that the stop was going to be very long. I tried to take a decent photo of the train but with very little luck and when I was leaving for home the driver told me that he would leave for Aranda in ten minutes. I shot out to the spot chosen to photograph it and almost went crazy with joy when it appeared 90 minutes later than its theoretical hour of circulation. Lucky mask, because the goofy face I made when I saw it shouldn't have been the most suitable to use as a profile picture on Tinder either.

Happy ending, yes, nothing to do with what my friend José Ignacio suffered. But remember this was going to be an easy photo. By the way, the train broke down again in Lezama, but that's another story.

This 400 lb sow is named for an ancient Celtic warrior queen who became famous for taking it to the Roman empire. Our latter day Boudica methodically ran off nine male sub-adults over the course of an afternoon, several of whom were already north of 300 lbs. Boudica is pure North American bad ass...

These men are graceful and methodical in their movements as they apply a new roof to this church. It is a joy to watch them.

 

Our Daily Challenge: I LOVE TO WATCH

I watched this Tufted Titmouse methodically pick out the peanuts in the mix, one by one.

 

That little Finch looks like she's worried what that piggy Titmouse was going to grab once all the peanuts were gone. LOL!

I found a dozen of these tiny songbirds flitting about a tree at the Palmyra Cove Nature Park in Southern, NJ. They were feeding on small insects in the bark of the tree. I was slowly and methodically able to approach very close, and eventually ended up within about 6 feet of the action. These birds are so small, maybe 3-4 inches tops, and so frenetic, out of the 100 shots I popped off, only 2 met my standards. This is one of them. View large for best experience.

 

It is Monday...enjoy the week~!

She is so different from Nixon, very methodically licks the doggie ice cream over and over until the last drop is gone. Thanks to Boxercab for the homemade recipe they get these more often now.

The rhyme has roots in English folklore that may date back to the time of Shakespeare and beyond. It's the story of the sad little boy who neglects his duties as a Hayward, hiding and sleeping under the haystack, rather than tending the flock. The first printed version of the song has been dated to 1744. In an interesting parity, the Little Blue Heron, makes up for moody blue emotion with a rich, moody blue and purple plumage. Like our little boy, this small heron tends to be fairly inconspicuous, despite being fairly common. When hunting it tends to be very quiet, slow, and methodical, unlike it's egret relatives that tend to dash about. Juveniles actually sport white plumage their first year and are easily confused with these egrets. Their inconspicuous behavior and slow methodical methods of hunting help to distinguish them from these companion birds. Their white first year plumage may actually increase their survival rates while living amongst egrets, since, there is always safety in numbers. So when searching the marshes and wetlands, look for our little blue friend who may be so inconspicuously still as to be easily missed. #iLoveNature #iLoveWildlife #WildlifePhotography in #Florida #Nature in #NorthAmerica #LittleBlueHeron #LittleBoyBlue #DrDADBooks #Canon #WildlifeConservation

A small, dark heron arrayed in moody blues and purples, the Little Blue Heron is a common but inconspicuous resident of marshes and estuaries in the Southeast. They stalk shallow waters for small fish and amphibians, adopting a quiet, methodical approach that can make these gorgeous herons surprisingly easy to overlook at first glance.

 

Canon EOS 90D camera

150-600mm F5-6.3 Sigma DG OS HSM | Contemporary

 

1/1250 f6.3 ISO100 250mm

 

The female Giant Ichneumon wasp, Megarhyssa marcurus is equipped with an ovipositor several times her own length. She uses this to which she drills into the side of diseased trees in order to lay an egg on the larva of another insect, the pigeon horntail (Tremex), which is a sawfly, a close relative of wasps, bees and ants. The horntail larva grows, and is fed upon by the ichneumon larva. The ovipositor is composed of a central delivery shaft which drills into the wood and through which the egg passes. There are another two outer sheaths that protect and stiffen the central “hypodermic needle”, these can be seen arcing away from the tip of the wasp’s tail. Before the drilling begins the wasp walks methodically up and down the tree, “feeling” with her antenna to sense the presence of the host horntail larva buried below the surface. Once a host larva has been detected she raises her tail and brings the ovipositor into position. At the beginning and end of the drilling process the last segments of the tail hinge open and a flexible membrane is inflated between them, (this is the white moon-shaped structure in the photo). This is used to manipulate the ovipositer as it enters and leaves the wood. The photo here is at the end of the laying process, the wasp is using her abdominal disc to withdraw the ovipositor from the wood.

Although he can still be a jerk at times to the cubbies Amari is really loving being a big brother and I often see him grooming them.

 

This was taken a month ago and I can't believe how much the cubs and Amari has changed in that time.

I am really methodical in my editing. I upload and put into folders of the date they were taken and then work my way through the album editing. As you can see i am a little behind with my editing......

 

ps......gotta love a little (lot) of lens flare ;)

This may be the most precisely made block I've ever sewn. I pretty obsessively trimmed the pieces before sewing the squares together, and I just approached it really slowly and methodically.

The massive stacker-reclaimer project is leaving Victoria’s Point Hope Shipyard and boarding the Dynamic Beast floating barge and crane.

“It’s like watching paint dry. We’ve been at this since eight in the morning. Very slow methodical, well thought out and safe,” said David Bukovec, who is the general manager for the project from United Engineering Ltd.

CHEK Video Link

N.B. Will leave Victoria Harbour for Neptune Terminals, North Vancouver, BC Saturday (no time specified).

Kaserne der Sovietarmee: Die Buchstaben bedeuten: "Methodische Richtlinien zur Desinfektion"

Slate blue overall. During most of the year, head and neck are dark purple, legs and feet dull green. In high breeding plumage, head and neck become reddish-purple, legs and feet black. Little Blue Herons are slow methodical feeders in freshwater ponds, lakes, and marches and coastal saltwater wetlands.

 

Nikon 500 mm f/4e lens, f/8, 1/2500s, ISO 640.

 

Thanks to all of you who fave and comment on the photograph!

Red dirt spire created by Mother Nature as the shoreline slowly and methodically moves inland. The turtles will beach themselves at sunset and will return to the ocean at dawn the next day.

 

Set up and waited for them to haul out as the sun set. Trick is to wear dark clothing and not make any noise or sudden movements.

I was not going to post this but yesterday this photo made my husband laugh so much and he asked me if I have uploaded this to Flickr yet and I said no but I guess it needs to be out there. Taken in Paris near Champs Elysee

ICM is a process of experimentation at least for me so no two shots come out the same. I'm sure I could use a tripod and be more methodical but, that would take some of the fun out of it.

At least as of February of 2020, California's Niles Canyon Railway was about the only place I know of where you could see a pair of compound, articulated Mallet Locomotives, both of which are fully operational.

 

On the left, we see Clover Valley Lumber Company #4, a Baldwin 2-6-6-2T saddle-tanker, built in 1924 for the Clover Valley Lumber Company of Loyalton, CA. She served that owner for over 30 years, before becoming a stationary boiler for a short time at the Tahoe Timber Company near Reno, Nevada. This locomotive was acquired by her present owner, the Pacific Locomotive Association (PLA) in 1973, and about 5 years later, she was in operation on the Castro Point Railway. When that line shut down, she was brought to her present home, the Niles Canyon Railway, which is operated by the PLA. She remained in storage here for many years until she was extensively rebuilt and put into service in 2012. Today, she is one of several steam locomotives which pull the tourist trains at Niles Canyon.

 

On the right is an even rarer locomotive. Built by the Baldwin Locomotive Works in 1909, this unusual 2-4-4-2 articulated, compound Mallet was intended for the Little River Railroad in Townsend, TN as their number 126. Unfortunately, that railroad quickly determined that she was too long for the tight curves on their line and she was returned to Baldwin. In 1910, Baldwin managed to resell her to the Columbia River Belt Line Railway in Blind Slough, OR, where she was put to work as a logging engine. That railroad typically named their locomotives rather than number them, and this engine received the name "Skookum", which is apparently a Chinook term, meaning large, powerful or impressive. She served the Columbia River Belt Line from 1910 through 1920, before being sold to the Carlisle-Pennell Lumber Company, where she acquired the number 7. After a four-year stint there, she served 4 other railroads, including the Deep River Logging Company, where her long career came to a sudden end in 1955, when she rolled over with a string of empty log bunks. Since that line was in the process of shutting down, no attempt was made to recover her and she was left in place. In 1956, she was acquired by a man named Charles Morrow, who removed her from her wreck site in pieces....and she's spent the next 60 years in pieces, owned by several individuals and moved several different places. In 2005, Skookum was acquired by Chris Baldo, who had her moved to the Oregon Coast Scenic Railroad, with the goal of restoring her, a process which took 13 years. The restoration team slowly and methodically restored her major components and re-assembled her into the condition you see here. After running briefly on the Oregon Coast Scenic, she was brought to Niles Canyon by her owner, where she runs periodically, hauling the tourist trains and an occasional photo charter. Although this is her home for the time being, she is still privately owned. It has not been publicly announce how long she'll be here, or where she might go next.

Guido Reni (Bologna, November 4, 1575 - Bologna, August 18, 1642) - Ariadne (1639-1640),- Oil on canvas 220 x 150 cm- Galleria Nazionale, Bologna

 

Si tratta dell'unico grande frammento conosciuto delle 'Nozze di Bacco e Arianna' che Guido Reni dipinse negli anni 1638- 1640 su commissione del Cardinale Barberini, ma destinato a Henrietta Maria di Borbone moglie del re d'Inghilterra Carlo I Stuart .

Il dipinto, eseguito a Bologna, fu inviato a Roma per la spedizione alla regina, ma i drammatici fatti politici che precedettero decapitazione di Carlo I ne impedirono l'invio in Inghilterra.

Nel 1647 finalmente la grande tela giunse a destinazione presso Henrietta, che la vendette un anno dopo per sanare i propri debiti.

Entrata nella raccolta di Michel Particelli d'Hemery, alla sua morte secondo autorevoli fonti dell'epoca, venne fatta ridurre in pezzi dalla vedova scandalizzata dalla presenza di figure nude.

La figura di Arianna risulta scontornata con una precisione inconsueta per una 'distruzione', è quindi probabile che il dipinto sia stato invece scomposto con metodo per essere poi più facilmente venduto.

 

This is the only known large fragment of the 'Marriage of Bacchus and Ariadne' that Guido Reni painted in the years 1638- 1640 commissioned by Cardinal Barberini, but intended for Henrietta Maria di Borbone wife of the King of England Charles I Stuart .

The painting, executed in Bologna, was sent to Rome for shipment to the queen, but the dramatic political events that preceded Charles I's beheading prevented it from being sent to England.

In 1647 the large canvas finally reached its destination at Henrietta's, who sold it a year later to clear her debts.

It entered the collection of Michel Particelli d'Hemery, and upon his death, according to authoritative sources of the time, it was had the widow, scandalized by the presence of nude figures, cut it to pieces.

The figure of Ariadne appears to have been contoured with unusual precision for a 'destruction,' so it is likely that the painting was instead methodically broken down to be more easily sold later.

Saw these glaziers working about 7 storeys up on the side of the SNC Lavalin building a couple of streets over. They never rushed but kept working methodically. Very cool to observe.

They are back now! Click on image for best view.

 

American White Pelican, Sunset Bay area of White Rock Lake, Dallas. TX. We are fortunate to have these big birds migrate to this lake every year! They are back now and will be at this lake through March-April.

 

Migratory big white beautiful bird! They remain at White Rock Lake's Sunset Bay (Dallas, TX) until March or April.

 

One of the largest North American birds, the American White Pelican is majestic in the air. The birds soar with incredible steadiness on broad, white-and-black wings. Their large heads and huge, heavy bills give them a prehistoric look. On the water they dip their pouched bills to scoop up fish, or tip-up like an oversized dabbling duck. Sometimes, groups of pelicans work together to herd fish into the shallows for easy feeding. Look for them on inland lakes in summer and near coastlines in winter.

 

Size & Shape

 

A huge waterbird with very broad wings, a long neck, and a massive bill that gives the head a unique, long shape. They have thick bodies, short legs, and short, square tails. During the breeding season, adults grow an unusual projection or horn on the upper mandible near the tip of the bill.

 

Color Pattern

 

Adult American White Pelicans are snowy white with black flight feathers visible only when the wings are spread. A small patch of ornamental feathers on the chest can become yellow in spring. The bill and legs are yellow-orange. Immatures are mostly white as well, but the head, neck, and back are variably dusky.

 

Behavior

 

American White Pelicans feed from the water’s surface, dipping their beaks into the water to catch fish and other aquatic organisms. They often upend, like a very large dabbling duck, in this process. They do not plunge-dive the way Brown Pelicans do. They are superb soarers (they are among the heaviest flying birds in the world) and often travel long distances in large flocks by soaring. When flapping, their wingbeats are slow and methodical.

 

Habitat

 

American White Pelicans typically breed on islands in shallow wetlands in the interior of the continent. They spend winters mainly on coastal waters, bays, and estuaries, or a little distance inland.

 

allaboutbirds.org

   

Churlish Stories for Curious Children

The Remisier Caper

Acte Two

 

Quickly the two women move from the kitchen and up the back stairs, moving past the locked, still-silent, study, reaching the dimly lit corridor in the wing where the guest bedrooms are located

 

Lightening flashes outside, adding an ominous feeling to the already electric air.

 

As the pair stalked down the hall, Emilee instructed her friend as to where Cecelia hides her jewelry case.

 

Her diamond tiara is locked in the hidden safe inside Sir Reginald’s study.

 

Much to her dismay, Emilee will not be helping rob this room. Cecelia must not be made aware the French maid has had any part in this.

 

So Emilee asked a favour.

“In the wardrobe, a long-sleeved white satin blouse with the ruffles. Please Mon Ami?”

 

The thief had winked, pulling out the torch from her kit.

 

Reaching the target, the maid stands guard outside in the hallway as the thief carefully opens the door and slips inside.

 

Inside the room, turning on her torch, the thief sweeps the interior.

 

Cecelia is fast asleep in her bed, elegant in a long white satin nightgown, as she lays out upon the purple satin sheets.

 

Her pretty evening gown is over a high-backed velvet-covered chair.

 

Fire flashed from the diamonds hanging around the sleeping girl's throat. The rest of her diamonds lay in blazing glory, invitingly sprawled out upon the room’s vanity.

 

The thief approaches the bed, and the wind outside shrieks as a crack of lightning illuminates the room, waking the sleeping girl.

 

Her eyes sleepily open, then go wide as she sees the masked intruder at her bedside. The thief puts a finger to her lips, and motions the girl to come off the bed.

 

Cecelia, still not fully awake, limply obeys, and the thief leads her to the chair. There, using one of her victim’s long satin gloves, she is gagged and with a rope, her satin-clad figure is quickly tied up.

 

As the victim watched, paralyzed with fear, the thief pulls off a satin pillowcase and going to the vanity sweeps off her glittering diamonds down inside it.

 

Then, as Cecelia whimpered, the masked thief leans down and opens the drawers of her vanity.

 

Of course, looking back at her captive as she does, not wishing her snooty victim to miss the show.

 

Reaching the bottom drawer, the thief see’s Cecelia uneasily struggling against her well-tied ropes.

  

Smiling, the thief quickly pulls out the silky clothes on top. At the bottom lies the prize.

 

Quickly several velvet-covered cases are extracted and opened with their shimmery contents dumped out inside the pillowcase. Then the cases are carelessly discarded off to the side, adding to the silky underthings already littering the floor.

 

Hearing the tied-up Celia trying to talk with muffled unclear words, the thief turns and faces the poor girl.

“Don’t worry luv, after I’m done cleaning you out, I’m sure that maid I saw in the dining room will be in to clean it up for you.

 

Turning back, the thief opens the last, and by far, largest velvet case, a royally dazzling display of large emeralds and diamond set jewellery almost blinds the thief’s eyes.

 

The case is closed and then added to the loot.

 

Holding the pillowcase, the masked intruder goes to the wardrobe. Opening it she reached and begins pulling out and checking over the designer dresses and gowns inside. Casually casting them off to the side as she goes do.

 

Coming to the white ruffled satin blouse she sees there is a black onyx pin holding the high-necked satin bow in place. Perfect.

 

She takes it to a full-length mirror and holds the blouse up, seeing Cecilia’s wretchedness reflected behind her in the mirror.

 

She doesn’t feel sorry for the bound and gagged lass.

 

The thief, in planning this little caper, had learned about the spoiled Cecilia’s tyrannical attitude towards, well, everyone and everything. Her personal servants, as well as her horse, and the family pets, have the scars, both real and emotional, to prove it.

 

Stuffing the blouse inside the pillow case the thief moves over to the tied-up girl and lifts the diamonds hanging down around her throat. The thief sees the pricy gems sparkling in Cecelia’s wide-open eyes.

 

The thief then reached back with her free hand and undid the clasp. Saying to her squirming victim as she pulls off the necklace.

“Very nice my haughty lady. I doubt any of the other guest rooms will have anything this nice. Hopefully, I’m wrong.”

  

She tweaks the poor girl's cheek, then pats thoroughly down her satin-clad, totally compliant figure, deliberately feeling along every bump and bulge for any more of the young lady’s valuables. Nothing is found, but the thief is by no means disappointed.

 

The thief cuts off the torch’s beam. Pulling off the satin pillowcase from a second pillow, the thief leaves the room as another flash of lightning ominously lights up the bedroom.

 

Giving poor Cecelia a backside view of the departing thief carrying away the pillowcase full of her heirloom quality jewellry.

 

The weak-minded girl finally passes out cold from all the anxiety.

 

The masked thief heads out the door into the hallway where Emilee keeps watch, standing along the wall beside the door.

 

The thief nods as Emily licks her lips looking at the small bulge at the bottom of the satin pillowcase.

 

The thief opens it up, and Emilee gives a squeal seeing the blouse she had so coveted while seeing Cecilia wearing it the day before, as well as the bewitching jewelry piled inside the pillowcase.

 

The thief gently chided her partner in crime, saying as she jovially rubs her shoulder.

“Quit your droolin lass, plenty of work ahead of us this evening.

 

Lightening again flashes as they begin to scurry down the hallway.

 

Quickly the pair then enters each of the occupied guest rooms located down the hallway. With a methodical determination, each room is picked clean of any jewels, money, and small valuable items.

 

It is quick work, with the upstairs maid Emilee pointing out where the lady guest’s better jewels are kept, they both make a fast, quite accurate, job of it.

 

Like Cecelia, Rose Buxton had her valuable jewels hidden away at the bottom of a vanity drawer full of lingerie.

 

Lady Susan Macready had her better baubles in a soft-sided jewelry case under her bed’s Pillow.

 

Diane, Spencer’s fiancé, had a private room, and her good jewelry was in a case conveniently left open on her vanity.

 

Mrs. Marlene Cabot—Hinny’s overly expensive ‘borrowed’ diamonds from the jewelry shoppe, were found tucked inside a suitcase hidden under the bed.

 

Emilee grins as the jewels are located and added to the growing loot being added to the satin pillowcase she is holding, her mind going to the ladies in the Parlour downstairs, totally oblivious as to the robbing of their valuables that is occurring above their high held heads.

 

Cases of sparking jewels are located and dumped into the satin pillowcase. Purses are riffled, bedside drawers checked, and looted of valuables.

 

Each room entered is left picked clean with expert prowess.

 

Finishing plundering the last guest room, the pair slink past the study, to the master bedroom next door.

 

Both enter the stately outfitted room.

 

Standing as the thief sweeps her torches’ beam. All the light touches conveyed a sense of glamour and very upper-class level wealth.

 

As with the guest rooms, the pilfering is methodically fast and easy with the Maid’s help.

 

Quickly the thief is shown the large jewelry amour, and it is opened, showing off a massive collection of jewelry in all styles, and shapes, made with pricey metals and some set with mesmerizing gems. No costume jewelry here. Two pairs of hands begin pulling off from hooks and emptying small drawers, brim full of expensive baubles.

 

Madeline’s good jewels are kept in the study safe. Next on the list.

 

The vanity is also ransacked.

 

A gold mirror, brush and several silver compacts are taken. Several wallets are found, then quickly emptied of cash.

 

Everything is placed in the same pillowcase.

 

Last is lord Reginald’s nightstand. Cases of watches, rings, and cuff links are found and emptied. A gold clip with folded notes is found, as well as four billfolds containing notes. All added to the growing pile of loot.

 

The thief looks around, itching to be done here and tackle the study.

 

The lightning flashes outside, coming a little more frequently, are adding a feeling of impending foreboding to the thief’s intoxicating “cat burglar’s dance” this evening.

 

“Anything else? what about the closets, worth it in this room?”

 

“Oh yes, I Bet there are Lovely things in there that were not in the others… Here

Let me show you”

 

Emilee opens a double door exposing gowns dresses and other fine designer apparel of all makes and material

 

Emilee starts on one end, her partner on yet other. Feeling for any broaches or pins. They are treated for their efforts by finding a solid gold broach set with dripping pearls and a pair of diamond clips from a very pretty satin evening gown.

 

“That’s it then?”

 

Emilee nods her head yes.

“The rest is in the study safe, mon ami”

 

Her partner grins…

“Not safe for long then…”

 

They leave and head to the study next door.

 

Emilee unlocks the study door, opening it. The pair blink in the brightness of the room as they survey the scene displayed in front of them.

 

The thief smiled, picturing Emilee and herself as a pair of vultures, eagerly waiting to pick through the carcasses that were the bodies of the sleeping rich men strewn about the room.

 

Emilee showed her partner where the safe was.

 

It was actually a small vault, a full meter tall and half that wide, hidden in the wall behind a sliding bookcase.

 

Crouching down, the thief began the task of opening it.

 

Emilee took the now weighty satin pillowcase and went to each of the passed-out cold gentlemen in turn.

 

She skillfully began searching their figures. Almost like using a practice dummy, slipping her hands inside theri breast pockets, extracting handsome leather billfolds.

 

So it was a rather enjoyable, as well as profitable, undertaking going through pockets and searching in their clothes. Taking anything else of value, along with wallets… watches, rings, precious metal cigar /cigarette cases, tie pins , and cuff links were also nicked from the knockout-drugged male victims.

 

Emilee quickly located with methodical precision all of the unconscious males valuables, reliving the items from their persons, and plopping them inside the pillowcase.

 

To the man who had ordered “tea”, Emilee went to last, taking extra time over.

 

She slid him from the chair he was on and dragged him over to the open part of the bookcase. She place one hand on the lever that opened the bookcase to access the safe. Then she unzipped his trousers and stuck his other hand (after removing a gold signet ring) deep down inside his boxers. He did not stir during the entire ordeal.

 

None of them did, the knock-out drops that had been added to the gift bottle of brandy would keep them all out for hours.

 

The thief in the meantime had opened the safe and was stacking the contents on the floor beside her. Piles of banded notes, bonds, and 2 score of jewellery cases. Including 3 that held gem-encrusted tiaras, had all been found inside.

 

Emilee came to her partner's side and began opening the cases and spilling the contents inside the pillowcase. The notes, bonds. And a few other selected items were added on top.

 

As she was working on this, the thief moved off Lord Reginald’s desk and pilfered the drawers.

 

From behind her Emilee instructed.

“Bottom drawer, right. “

 

That drawer was opened, exposing a black military pistol.

 

The thief unloaded the cartridges, keeping one loaded in the chambre. She then stuck it in her belt.

 

The thief looked at Emilee...

 

“Done?”

 

She nodded

“Done, for the now we have coup de grâce… we go downstairs to the kitchen, then to the parlour…”

 

The thief nodded.

 

Emilee licks her lips. Tossing the masters keys to her partner

 

Catching them, the thief turns out the lights and locks the study door behind them as they leave

 

They head to the servants' stairs. As the pair reached them, Emilee puts a hand on her partner's shoulders.

“Juste une seconde..”

 

Emilee scurried done the corridore. Reaching Cecelia’s room she gives a polite knock.

 

“Maid, Mademoiselle Ceceylia?, ne vouliez-vous pas plus de sherri ?… more sherri Mademoiselle?”

 

Emilee turns to face her partner waiting patiently by the stairs. With a smirk, she shrugs her shoulders and scurries back. Passed the thief with a grin, then headed downstairs.

 

Grinning also, she follows Emilee down the back stairs to the kitchen.

Emilee takes the empty cart and heads down the hallway to the parlour

 

The thief lays the full pillowcase by the pantry door. With the other, still empty pillowcase, hanging on her arm, she leaves the kitchen and, from a distance, follows the maid down the hall.

 

The thief waits out in the corridor.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Back in calm maid mode, Emilee wheels in the cart and starts to collect dishes

 

Lady Madeline is talking about how hard it’s been this weekend being down to just a cook and their worthless slag of a maid, due to the bloody holidays. The fact that Emilee was trained to be an upstairs maid and not a sever is completely not a considerate issue here.

 

The hostess looks up at Emilee, knowing full well the maid heard every word. She gives her maid a lecture before issuing a command:

“Emilee, I’ve rung you 3 times now. Clear the glasses Then tell the men we would like them to join us at the conservatory .”

 

“Yes Mum, and Sorry, I was checking on jeune femme Cecelia upstairs. ”

 

Lady Madeline is clearly still not happy…

“No matter. I think you should pack your things tonight. I probably will want you out of here in the morning. “

 

Emilee nods dejectedly, then begins collecting the empty wine bottles and glasses.

 

Lady Madeline’s mother Marlene then arose and says she needs to go to her room and get her wrap since she finds the conservatory chilly.

 

Marlene adds, looking at Emilee, as she walks out the door

“Your maid shouldn’t be bothering Miss Cecelia, I will check on her myself.”

 

Marlene no sooner walked out, than she came back in.

 

Walking backward, hands raised as the thief had the gun trained on the broach hanging from her shiny gown’s midriff.

 

Over Marlene’s head, The thief snarled a command to the rest of the occupants in the room.

“All right ladies, all of you line up against that wall…NOW!”

 

The startled ladies obey, their long gowns fluttering along their figures as they miserably line up along the far wall by the windows.

 

Here now, I’ll have that. Using her free hand the thief unfastened the heavy diamond broach wedged between Marlene’s bulging breasts.

 

She tried to protest, but in shock, words failed her, and she only managed a high-pitched squeaking noise.

 

Marlene is then boldly told to turn around.

 

Given no choice, with the pistol now poking her in the back, Marlene is pushed to go to the end of the line.

 

Outside lightning cracked, illuminated the gardens outside, casting an eerie light inside the Parlour.

 

The thief takes a step back into the center of the room, facing the elegantly dressed ladies wearing valuably shimmering jewels, lined up against the wall, all with their gloved hands stretched up.

 

“Now listen to me you miserable lot. I don’t want you on my tail as soon as I leave. So let’s begin by having all of you strip off those lovely frocks and only your frocks. You too maid, lose that pretty outfit.”

 

As a group, the ladies begin protesting, including Emilee. The thief points the pistol at the mirror over Marlene’s head and fires the pistol

 

The loud report, and cracking glass, made everyone jump.

 

“That was not a request, Strip out of the bloody things …now.”

 

Then, as if on a movie director’s cue, another bolt of lightning streaks outside, followed by a flash and loud retort, literally making every one of the victims jump again.

 

The ladies, getting the ugly message, begin undoing their luxurious gowns, letting them drop to their feet.

 

Emilee has to help a few of them unzip and undress.

 

Soon their elegant silk nickers, other rich shiny undergarments, as well as a bit of naked flesh, are all exposed.

 

The thief motions the pistol at the gawking maid stripped down to her bra and nickers.

 

“You, collect those gowns and pile them underneath the window. Move it.”

 

Emilee quickly moved to the beginning of the line, and reaching down begins to pick up the discarded finery. Taking the pile to the end of the room, she threw them all down on the floor in front of the window in a slickly shiny heap.

 

Emilee, then turned around to face the room.

 

Seeing the thief motioning to her with a finger, she hesitantly approached.

 

The thief tossed the empty satin pillowcase to Emilee, pointing her pistol at Susan, only wearing a two-piece thin blue see-through slip and top, and is first in line.

“Here maid, take this, stand in front of the bluebird.”

 

Emilee catches the case and goes to Lady Susan Macready, holding open the pillowcase.

 

The thief addressed all of her richly jewelled-up victims. Pointing the pistol with menacing intent at each of the semi-naked, satin glove-wearing ladies lined up against the wall in turn.

 

“ In case it has not seeped in, this, ladies is a robbery. I’ll be having your jewels handed over. This will be over quickly as long as you lot don’t quibble. Your maid is holding the bag in front of you, I want you each to remove all, and I mean all, of your valuables. I’ve been watching from outside. So I know what jewels each of you fine ladies is wearing. Keep your hands up where I can see them until the maid reaches you.”

 

The thief waves the pistol along the line of desolate, rich ladies, ending up back Susan.

 

“Go one bluebird, time to pluck off those glittery feathers. Stop that whining. Let’s get going!”

 

Hands shaking, Lady Susan Macready begins removing her splendidly shimmering sapphire and diamond set jewels. Ears, throat, and wrists are all soon bare. As her last of four rings are pulled off, she steps back as the thief looks her dead in the eyes, the ugly black pistol pointed at her.

 

The thief speaks, looking at Susan

 

“Nicely done lady, now get those hands back up.”

 

Next in line is ravishing red-haired, impossibly large, emerald green-eyed, Diane, who is now only elegantly clad in an ankle-length crimson red half slip…and nothing above!

 

Standing there, half-naked, she sighs deeply, her face crestfallen.

 

The thief looks at her as if just noticing her condition of being half-dressed for the first time…

“You now, my perky red-breasted chick, I’ll be having those pearls.”

 

Diane lowered her hands and began slipping off her ropes of pearls and sadly dropping them inside the pillowcase.

 

As she was removing her necklace and working off her long earrings, then bending down to let them plop inside the open satin pillowcase, her naked breasts put on a show worthy of any French burlesque tease.

 

“And what is it about real pearls against naked skin that makes them look so sensuous ?”

 

Undoing her pricey bracelet last, she miserably watched it disappear inside.”

 

The thief calls out, startling everyone.

“I thought I said everything. The ring hunny bunny, now.”

 

Sadly Diane struggled, then finally managed to pull free her vulgarly large diamond ring, letting it drop inside the bag.

 

Emilee managed not to let her glee show, keeping her mouth tight, her eyes emotionally empty.

 

As Diane reassumed her position, raising her hands back up, points high and perked. The thief then turned the pistol to Lady Madeline.

 

Madeleine, wearing a full mint green taffeta slip, started to protest but was abruptly cut off by the thief.

 

“Zip it, don’t start lady, or I’ll remove those delicious emeralds your so richly wearing me self…”

 

lady Madeleine, use to being the one giving orders, not being ordered about, feels insulted.

 

Thinking any minute the men should be coming to their rescue. She says with a snarly voice only the very rich seem to be able to pull off

 

“My husband will be down any minute, let’s see how Insouciant you will be then…”

 

Annoyingly, the thief does not answer, only gives her a haughty look, and motions to the hanging satin pillowcase her maid is holding.

 

So with a sigh, she drops her hands, then begins to unhappily remove her emerald bracelet and rings from her green satin opera-length gloves, huffily tossing them into the pillowcase Emilee is holding.

 

She then pulls out her earrings, and finally, reaching up behind her neck, unfastened her long dripping-down necklace, plopping them all inside the makeshift bag in turn.

 

The thief points the pistol at her head.

“The diamond hairpiece, please. “

 

lady Madeleine tried to reason

“But it’s not real, surely you can see that..”

 

“Then I’ll take a chance on being a fool by taking it. Be a good rich girl and it over…”

 

Reluctantly the expensively flashy real diamond hairpiece is pulled out and added to the unseen collection inside the pillowcase.

 

Lady Madeline pulls her fallen hair back with an evil glare.

 

Rose is next to last in line.

 

Her petite necklace of diamonds flashes with a beckoning brilliance as her figure is tightly outlined by her stylish blue thin silk lingerie, her thinly covered breasts heaved up and down with the anguish she is feeling.

 

Emilee moved in from of her, and the thief also moved in behind, keeping the pistol trained on Lady Madeline.

 

The thief then moved the pistol to point at Rose. She begins addressing Rose, though her eyes never leave the stern-faced Madeline’s eyes. Much like a teacher keeps an eye on an insolent child as she resumes her lecture after being rudely interrupted.

 

“Okay my lady, remove those delicious diamonds and make it quick now.

 

Rose lowers her hands and begins working off all her lovely precious jewels. Plopping them piece by glittering pieces into the open pillowcase.

 

As she does, The thief spied Lady Madeline taking a glance towards the door.

 

The thief points her pistol toward her.

“Lady, I told you, helps not coming.”

 

Then points the pistol back at Rose

“Let’s hurry off with those rings, trust me, you don’t want me helping you!”

 

With a sigh, Rose pulled off the last ring from her sleek blue satin dinner gloves, then steps back and puts her hands up.

 

The thief, with unabashed attention, looks over Rose, her figure perked, points nicely outlined by thin blue silk.

 

“Thanks, lady, it looks to me like you are feeling a bit chilled. No worries, it’s almost over.

 

The thief then finally points the pistol at Marlene, clad in a stretched-out purple bra and knee-length half slip.

 

“Now as for you my plump purple bird, ripe for the plucking, so let’s prune off some of your shiny trimmings shall we…”

 

Marlene desperately pleads.

“The other’s jewels are real, mine are not. You already have my broach, The rest is worthless. Can’t you see? Don’t you have enough already? You’ll let me keep them then?”

 

The thief grins:

“Like I told the green bird, I’ll be the fool then, now be a luv and remove them.”

 

Marlene snaps;

“You’ll never get away with this.”

 

The thief walks up to her, leaning over Emilee’s shoulder she picked up Marlene’s long shimmery necklace.

 

The yanks it off her throat, dropping it In the pillowcase as the thief hisses with a snarky tone of voice:

“I do believe mum, I already am….”

 

Whimpering, Marlene stands stone-still. Shocked to the core

 

The thief snaps out an order.

“You, Maid, help the lady off with the rest. That’s the girl…”

 

Then, struggling not to show her glee over doing this, Emilee reached up with one hand and pulled free each of Marlene’s diamond earrings, plopping them one by one inside the pillowcase. She then went for Marlene’s glittering bracelet, slipped it off, and dropped it into the pillowcase. Then taking Marlene’s white satin gloves hands, works off the lady’s rings. Some of which were actually her own, and not “borrowed”.

 

Emilee looks back to the thief as she finishes. Thinking to herself how she would have loved to have done a bit of poking and prodding along priggish Marlene’s figure while removing her jewellery.

 

The masked thief, still training the pistol on the whining Marlene, beckons to Emilee with a free hand

“Good girl, now Maid, hand over the bag.”

 

Emilee did a neat little act of not wanting to give it to the thief. She looks at Lady Madeline as if for instructions.

 

The thief clicks her tongue.

“Don’t worry about your mistress, Let’s be a good girl now, hand it to me.”

 

Emilee hands it over, her back is to the ladies, and she winks as she does.

 

The thief keeps a stone face. Grabbing the dangling bag, she looks over the maid's head.

 

“Ok, Maid. Open that window.”

 

The thief, looking back down, spots the thin gold chain and cross the maid was wearing under her frock.

 

Come, come, now Maid…No holding out. I’ll have that gold crucifix of yours.

 

Unhappily Emilee removed it and reverently hands it over. The thief placed it on top of the loot inside the satin pillowcase.

 

Pouting, Emily turns and goes to open the window.

 

The thief then addresses them all, pointing the(now empty) pistol at the ceiling.

“Now maid, throw them clothes all out the window. And no shenanigans for the rest of you. I may or may not be a good shot. “

 

They all start to protest, but the thief waved the pistol at them, and they immediately shut up.

 

The Maid is forced to throw all the gowns and her outfit out the parlour window. The windows of the parlour are higher than the dining room windows, 3 full metres from the ground.

 

Everyone is watching Emilee. As the last shiny gown is dropped from the window sill, they all turn back to face the thief, only to discover she was already at the door, leaving the room with the pillowcase containing all of their nicked jewellery.

 

As the silent group watched. The thief turned off the lights, casting the room in darkness as she closed the door.

 

She then Locked the parlour door, turned, and made her way down the hallway to the kitchen.

 

In passing, she tossed the pistol and the keys on the cutting tables, then heads into the pantry.

 

She takes the empty Remisier brandy bottle, and adds it to the pillowcase she is holding.

 

Then picking up the first satin pillowcase, heavy with the upstairs haul, she heads outside into the yard. With the dark umbrella of rain-swollen clouds threatening overhead.

 

Outside by the door, the thief retrieved her rucksack.

 

Stuffing the pair of now full pillows inside she sprints around to the parlour window. Looking up she sees the shadows of her semi-naked victims moving about in the now-lit room above.

 

The thief quickly packs up the gowns, including the maid's costume, piling them inside her rut sack on top of the satin pillowcases. It fills up nicely.

 

Keeping an eye on the window as she does, but as earlier, no faces appear.

 

Flipping the happily full rut sack onto her shoulders she sprints from the shadows of the hedges and races across the yard as a bolt of lightning rips across the black swirling cloud-filled sky.

 

Rain starts pouring down as she reaches the treeline

 

The thief keeps a quick pace as she makes her way through the woods along the riding path she now knows by heart, having snuck up it several times over the last few months. Good thing too, since the dark sky and pelting rain are making visibility harder. She dared not lite up her torch. Going with the occasional lightning strikes to lite her way.

 

She safely made the almost 5-kilometer hike back to her hidden rental car without incident.

 

The journey of her escape had given the thief plenty of time to mull over the robbery…

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Little chance Emilee would be a suspect, she was a mere maid after all.

 

The thief thinks over the plan that had been put into motion for this evening, it had gone like clockwork.

 

She had bought the expensive Remesier brandy through a dealer and poured it into a secure decanter to celebrate with it later, just her and Emilee.

 

She had drugged a much cheaper high-quality brandy and poured it inside the empty Remesier bottle, resealing it. She wasn't going to waste good brandy on that lot.

 

Then had packaged it, written the note, and sent it to Sir Reginald.

 

They had also learned of how the unhappy upstairs maid was being treated by Lady Madeline and had paid her, through an intermediary, to give notice a week before the ball.

 

Emily applied and was accepted immediately.

 

She estimated that the entire takings from the robbery would be well over 8 mills.

 

By the end of the week, she would be out of the country, the mansion haul placed in her Swiss bank safety deposit box. Giving the hot ice time to chill.

 

As for the gowns, what she and Emilee didn’t want for themselves, would find their way to an OXFAM Shoppe Bin.

 

She was already planning on picking up a pretty leather skirt for Emilee to go with the lovely white satin blouse, imagining what a sexy outfit it would be as a distraction while on a future pickpocketing spree. That would be a delicious treat to help and watch her at “play” lifting fat wallets from leering males.

 

After Switzerland, the thief would then continue on vacation in Germany, Italy, and finally, France, where in a fortnight she and Emilee had already planned to meet up.

 

For it was in France that she had first met Emilee, actually more of an encounter…

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Our Thief, a few years before, had been in France to attend a wedding. The fact that she had not been invited was a trivial matter.

 

A few days before the weekend wedding, She had been walking down a street located in a busy shopping district. A well-dressed lady came out of a store carrying a large bag in her arm, talking to a female companion. On the wrist of the arm coddling the bag, was a fancy gold bracelet. As the lady’s head was turned to her companion, the thief had “bumped up against the lady, her fingers slipping easily up the long sleeve of her silk blouse, reaching the bracelet, and whisking it off her wrist in the process of apologizing to her in broken French.

 

As the thief had walked no more than a block away, a young long haired girl in a bohemian-style silk dress bumped into her. Realizing the trademark, the thief felt her pocket and realized the gold bracelet had been lifted. The stalker had been stalked herself.

 

The young stinker made her living robbing pickpockets.

 

The thief quickly caught up to the young girl, and keeping in step, began a guarded conversation, dropping enough hints to let this young version of herself know that there was a kindred spirit.

 

It worked and lunching over déjeuner woyj, wine, and Salade Niçoise, discussed their similarities. At first, the conversation was very guarded between the two, but by the end, it was one that fast friends would have.

 

Emilee had begun working the streets at a very young age. Using her looks and long fingers she found pickpocketing to be a pleasing and profitable profession to pursue.

 

Then she took it a level up and began robbing pickpockets of the items they had lifted from unwary victims. She soon was able to pick out the more professional thieves, accurately figuring out that they would be lifting from a richer class of persons.

 

Then she leaned the skills to be an upstairs maid. Using this to not only make a living but for herself to also level up into a better class of victims to use her nimble fingers on, discreetly of course.

 

For when a wealthy married male wanted a romp with an attractive, witty servant. Emilee played the seductress perfectly. And after a night satisfying the crétine (Pratt), if his wallet disappears, along with some of his wife’s jewels, well who was going to risk exposure by pointing a finger at her?

 

So over the course of a few months, as their lier (bond) grew, the thief introduced Emilee into her world of rich society, fancy dances, selections of wealthy victims, lifting of precious jewelry and wallets, as well as collecting information to rob mansions and other fancy dwellings of the ultra-rich.

 

Soon the pair as a team was doing quite well. Their adventure’s proving quite profitable. Emily only needed to work as a maid when the situation required it. Otherwise, she was the outside watcher for the inside cat burglar thief.

 

So how had tonight’s manor heist materialized?

 

^^^^^^^^^^^

 

While out on her own devices one evening, Emilee had taken a liking to a gold pendant worn by a boorish old lady she had spotted while “working” a reception.

 

She got close and as she watched the mesmerizing pendant, overheard what the lady was loudly droning on about, not caring who listened in, as long as they were impressed.

 

It appeared that she was claiming to be closely related to royalty, though her clothes and manner did not entirely back her story up.

 

But, smelling an opportunity, Emilee rolled the dice, changed tactics, and walking past the lady, easily lifted the wallet from the boorish lady’s designer purse.

 

She had contacted her cat burglar friend from wales to look into this, to see if this was a lead into something big.

 

It turned out it was the whole crux that lit the kindling which flamed up into the manor robbery scheme.

 

The boastingly boorish lady wearing the gold pendant's name?

 

Marlene Cabot-Hinny

 

And that would be the rest of the story.

 

Fini

 

Here’s another view of the old boiler house, less stylized and more realistic.

 

(I had picked up this secondhand Voigtlander 10mm Hyper Wide Heliar at a deep discount a few weeks earlier and was liking it a lot for situations like this … it is not an easy lens to use in dim light, but it is built like a tank and it can make very good images if used methodically.

At Pastor Charles Calvin's house, there is much preparation for the Thanksgiving meal. One of his twin daughters, Betsy Calvin, is working with the grinder.

 

"There you go, Pa, I think you've fixed it!"

 

"Let's test it, Betsy. I know you want your measurements to be precise."

 

"It always reminds me, all of creation works on God's order, Pa. We're able to know and work with such accuracy because of how He designed it."

 

"Well, said, Betsy. God's truth defines reality. All we do every day, how we operate, from the smallest things to the most grand, all obey the truth of God's design."

 

•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•

 

Ask anyone today, "What is truth?" and you’re sure to start an interesting conversation. Try it on a university campus and you’re likely to receive laughter, scorn, and derision. The concept of truth has clearly fallen on hard times, and the consequences of rejecting it are ravaging human society. So let’s go back to the starting point and answer the question: What is truth?

 

One of the most profound and eternally significant questions in the Bible was posed by an unbeliever. Pilate—the man who handed Jesus over to be crucified—turned to Jesus in His final hour, and asked, “What is truth?” It was a rhetorical question, a cynical response to what Jesus had just revealed: “I have come into the world, to testify to the truth.”

 

Two thousand years later, the whole world breathes Pilate’s cynicism. Some say truth is a power play, a metanarrative constructed by the elite for the purpose of controlling the ignorant masses. To some, truth is subjective, the individual world of preference and opinion. Others believe truth is a collective judgment, the product of cultural consensus, and still others flatly deny the concept of truth altogether.

 

So, what is truth?

 

Here’s a simple definition drawn from what the Bible teaches: Truth is that which is consistent with the mind, will, character, glory, and being of God. Even more to the point: Truth is the self-expression of God. That is the biblical meaning of truth. Because the definition of truth flows from God, truth is theological.

 

Truth is also ontological—which is a fancy way of saying it is the way things really are. Reality is what it is because God declared it so and made it so. Therefore God is the author, source, determiner, governor, arbiter, ultimate standard, and final judge of all truth.

 

The Old Testament refers to the Almighty as the “God of truth”.

 

"Into Your hand I commit my spirit; You have ransomed me, O Lord, God of truth." Psalm 31:5

 

When Jesus said of Himself, “I am…the truth” (John 14:6), He was thereby making a profound claim about His own deity. He was also making it clear that all truth must ultimately be defined in terms of God and His eternal glory. After all, Jesus is “And He [Jesus] is the radiance of His [The Father's] glory and the exact representation of His nature, and upholds all things by the word of His power.” Hebrews 1:3

 

Jesus is truth incarnate—the perfect expression of God and therefore the absolute embodiment of all that is true.

 

Jesus also said that the written Word of God is truth. It does not merely contain nuggets of truth; it is pure, unchangeable, and inviolable truth that according to Jesus, “cannot be broken”. (John 10:35)

 

Praying to His heavenly Father on behalf of His disciples, He said this: "Sanctify them by the truth; Your word is truth." John 17:17

 

Moreover, the Word of God is eternal truth “which lives and abides forever” (1 Peter 1:23).

 

Of course, there cannot be any discord or difference of opinion between the written Word of God (Scripture) and the incarnate Word of God (Jesus). In the first place, truth by definition cannot contradict itself. Second, Scripture is called “the word of Christ” (Colossians 3:16). It is His message, His self-expression. In other words, the truth of Christ and the truth of the Bible are of the very same character. They are in perfect agreement in every respect. Both are equally true. God has revealed Himself to humanity through Scripture and through His Son. Both perfectly embody the essence of what truth is.

 

Remember, Scripture also says God reveals basic truth about Himself in nature. The heavens declare His glory (Psalm 19:1). His other invisible attributes (such as His wisdom, power, and beauty) are on constant display in what He has created (Romans 1:20). Knowledge of Him is inborn in the human heart (Romans 1:19), and a sense of the moral character and loftiness of His law is implicit in every human conscience (Romans 2:15).

 

Those things are universally self-evident truths. According to Romans 1:20, denial of the spiritual truths we know innately always involves a deliberate and culpable unbelief. And for those who wonder whether basic truths about God and His moral standards really are stamped on the human heart, ample proof can be found in the long history of human law and religion. To suppress this truth is to dishonor God, displace His glory, and incur His wrath.

 

"18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, 19 because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. 20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse." Romans 1:18-20

 

Still, the only infallible interpreter of what we see in nature or know innately in our own consciences is the explicit revelation of Scripture. Since Scripture is also the one place where we are given the way of salvation, entrance into the kingdom of God, and an infallible account of Christ, the Bible is the touchstone to which all truth claims should be brought and by which all other truth must finally be measured.

 

An obvious corollary of what I am saying is that truth means nothing apart from God. Truth cannot be adequately explained, recognized, understood, or defined without God as the source. Since He alone is eternal and self-existent and He alone is the Creator of all else, He is the fountain of all truth.

 

If you don’t believe that, try defining truth without reference to God, and see how quickly all such definitions fail. The moment you begin to ponder the essence of truth, you are brought face to face with the requirement of a universal absolute—the eternal reality of God. Conversely, the whole concept of truth instantly becomes nonsense (and every imagination of the human heart therefore turns to sheer foolishness) as soon as people attempt to remove the thought of God from their minds.

 

That, of course, is precisely how the apostle Paul traced the relentless decline of human ideas in Romans 1:21-22: “Although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful, but became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools.”

 

There are serious moral implications too, whenever someone tries to dissociate truth from the knowledge of God. Paul went on to write, “Even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a debased mind, to do those things which are not fitting” (Romans 1:28).

 

Abandon a biblical definition of truth, and unrighteousness is the inescapable result. We see it happening before our eyes in every corner of contemporary society. In fact, the widespread acceptance of all forms of iniquity that we see in our society today is a verbatim fulfillment of what Romans 1 says always happens when a society denies and suppresses the essential connection between God and truth.

 

If you reflect on the subject with any degree of sobriety, you will soon see that even the most fundamental moral distinctions—good and evil, right and wrong, beauty and ugliness, or honor and dishonor—cannot possibly have any true or constant meaning apart from God. That is because truth and knowledge themselves simply have no coherent significance apart from a fixed source, namely, God. How could they? God embodies the very definition of truth. Every truth claim apart from Him is preposterous.

 

Elaborate epistemologies have been proposed and methodically debunked one after another—like a long chain in which every previous link is broken. After thousands of years, the very best of human philosophers (Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Descartes, Locke, Kant, Hegel, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Marx, James, and others) have all utterly failed to account for truth and the origin of human knowledge apart from God.

 

In fact, the one most valuable lesson humanity ought to have learned from philosophy is that it is impossible to make sense of truth without acknowledging God as the necessary starting point.

 

Truth is not subjective, it is not a consensual cultural construct, and it is not an invalid, outdated, irrelevant concept. Truth is the self-expression of God. Truth is thus theological; it is the reality God has created and defined, and over which He rules. Truth is therefore a moral issue for every human being.

 

How each person responds to the truth God has revealed is an issue of eternal significance. To reject and rebel against the truth of God results in darkness, folly, sin, judgment, and the never-ending wrath of God. To accept and submit to the truth of God is to see clearly, to know with certainty, and to find life everlasting.

 

-Excerpt from 'What Is Truth?'

John MacArthur, Grace To You, 2008

 

•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•

Happy Thanksgiving 2022 as we at Paprihaven celebrate gratitude through God through the Psalms!

 

Previous Thanksgivings from Paprihaven:

 

2015

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/23317280855/

 

2016

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/31221411415/

 

2017

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/38546538356/

 

2018

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/45192078954/

 

2019

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49118690462/

 

2020

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50625872238/

 

2021

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51691706150/

 

Despicably Rotten Scoundrel

  

My thanks to everyone who has helped me with ideas in writing this story. You all know of whom I speak.

 

The opening scene is a formal charity ball in Scotland, at the seaside town of Clachtoll.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Despicably Rotten Scoundrel

 

“I’m not really wicked, just written that way…!”

 

A pickpocketing female thief’s rather despicable and rotten tale told from her perspective….

 

“I’m not jealous, just an opportunist.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

I do love a good old-fashioned charity ball.

 

It’s a place where rich twits, sorry, guests love to show off their finery, flaunting the fact they are wealthy enough to be invited to donate a bit of their easily earned, or given, cash. Also wealthy enough to be shorn of some of their wealth by other, shall we say, less proper manners.

 

Now, it’s true that there are mostly adults at these types of charity things.

 

But they also have a tendency to doll up their younger sons/daughters and bring them along to pretty much just display them. The poor dears are usually bored and desperate to be noticed. Which works to my advantage.

 

A bit of juicy, easy ripe pickings on the side with usually some surprisingly profitable results.

 

And then there are the parents and other adult guests, who once they have imbibed enough, become subtle and compliant enough for my fingers to do their task of acquiring their more valuable adornments

 

And I never thought of pickpocketing as right out stealing, preferably thinking of it as teaching a life lesson to those foolish enough, or young enough, to present a vulnerably easy target. And earn my living in the process.

 

But why the soliloquy one may ask?

 

Well, the last time I attended such a function I deliciously petted away a pair of pearl necklaces, a single and double strand, from two very different but equally gullible, charming quite young ladies who were attending a grown-up Ball for the first time. Their pearls fetched a surprising value.

 

One was in soft velvet the other was in sleek silk-covered chiffon. Both were easily woven into my web.

 

At the same affair, I also lifted an expensive diamond brooch from a wealthy lady as well as two fat leather wallets from a pair of tuxedo-wearing gentlemen.

 

But then I attracted nosey official notice and had to make a hasty exit. Blimey, a girl’s got to make a living.

 

And now here I was, a year later, standing across the street from yet another charity ball in Scotland. Smoking a leisurely cigarette as I watch the rich ladies' attire flowing down elegantly beneath furs and satin evening wraps of the mostly female guests pouring into the venue.

 

I spotted a group of younger ladies dressed elegantly in a collection of silks and satins, no wraps. They were off to the side smoking and chatting away amiably. They appeared to be an accepting lot, and I instinctively saw them as an acceptable way to camouflage my entrance.

 

I crossed the street and walked up behind them close enough to get a feel for the manner of conversation. They were all Scottish judging by their accents. Being Welsh myself I was hoping they would jump at the opportunity to talk with a newcomer to the area.

 

They were, and soon I was in with them thicke as thieves. Which was rather fitting.

 

The ball was in full swing by the time all of my adopted group decided to enter the establishment and I waltzed right in with them, easily escaping the notice of two security bulls who were keeping an eye on the entrance.

 

Once safely inside I made an excuse to leave them, promising them I’d catch up with them again. A promise I meant to keep for they were wearing some really lovely jewellery, and once they had drunk up a bit, should make them easy marks.

 

I licked my lips with anticipation over that future activity.

 

Once I broke away I circled the perimeter of the massive hall, watching the dancers in the middle. Looking out for an opportunity of any sort.

 

By the bar, a pair of young men were chattering away, and I pushed myself between them as I passed through. Easily lifting a gold watch from one of the tuxedoed pair.

 

I then spied with my little eye an elegant lady wearing taffeta, placing a solid gold compact inside her small pearl-handled white beaded clutch purse. I stood near bye, and as she bent down to adjust a strap on her high heel, I walked past and snatched the purse up, hiding it in my own larger purse.

 

I walked quickly off in another direction.

 

Then my heart stopped as I spied a young lady sitting at a table alone watching what I assumed were her guardians dancing.

 

What made it inviting was that no one was watching her.

 

In a chair next to her hung a luxurious sable, too valuable to trust in hat check.

 

Laying upon the chair was a small silvery clutch purse, worth quite a bit by my scrutiny. The girl was holding a purse of her own, a pretty, small satin number with rhinestones. Too expensive to pass up.

She was fidgety, either bored or needed to use the loo.

 

I walked up to her.

 

“Hello, luv.” I said as she looked up at me with a happy cherub face, glad to have someone to chat with.

 

“Aye Miss, halo. ” she answered with that darling soft accent that the young scot lassies all seem to have.

 

She was pretty, wearing a gold sequined blouse with long sleeves and a high collar. A long black skirt sleekly poured from her waist, held there by a gold belt with a large rhinestone clasp. Her long red hair was down hiding any jewels she may be wearing in her ears. Around her neck though, was a twisted strand silvery necklace with 5 real diamonds hanging down in a v shape at the necklace’s centre.

 

“You’re such a cutie I murmured reaching around and lifting her hair from her backside and running it through my fingers, eyeing her dazzling earrings set with real diamonds…and how they were set in her earlobes. They are old fashioned hinged clasped twins, valuable. My mouth drools over this discovery, for it could be child’s play to lift them.

 

She squirmed gleefully at my praise.

“Thank you, miss.”

 

I laid my hand on her shoulder, feeling the ultra-soft material of her blouse. I caressed my fingers along her sleeve.

 

“Your outfit is quite smashing Lass.”

 

With a woeful tone of voice she admitted:

“This was my sister's miss, I wanted a gown of my own, but papa said to wait till next year, and then I can wear real makeup!”

 

I petted her along the sleek backside of her blouse.

“You’ll look beautiful then I’m sure. As you look now, without makeup. And speaking of beauty, that darling purse you're holding is rather pretty. Is that your sister's also?

 

She shook her head no, the diamonds at her ears and throat erupting into frenzied sparkles. She held the purse up.

“Father Christmas brought it.”

 

I reached down and touched its exquisite satiny material.

“Very pretty. Something to take care of, especially tonight.”

 

Possessing the same curiosity of youth that needed me pearls last year, she bought into it, asking…

 

“Why tonight miss?”

 

I leaned in and explained.

“A lady had her purse stolen a little while ago, right from her table. The police are looking for him. You may want to put yours somewheres safe until he is caught. “

 

She looked at her purse worried, not sure what to make of what I had said.

 

I place my hand reassuringly on her elbow and pointed down to a purple silk-lined pocket of the sable.

“There miss, place it inside the pocket. No one will see it there.”

 

She obediently bent over to do so, while I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, petting the delicious gold-colored material that covered it.

 

I looked around making sure the coast was clear, saying to her….

 

“Oh, and the other purse as well.”

 

She reached over to the table and picked it up. My fingers moved into position. As she leaned over to put it inside I easily undid the simple hook and circle clasp of her necklace and pulled the dangling piece from around her throat and slipped it inside my pocket in a blink of an eye.

 

She turned and looked at me with wildly opened concerned eyes.

 

“Oh. I’m sure they will catch him soon. Then you can take it back out. But for now, your purse is safe, as well as your sister’s”

 

She shook her head, earrings again flicking an expensive dance. But nothing glimmered where her necklace had been.

 

“My sister is not here miss. . She’s in France. It’s just me ,mum and dad.”

 

I knelt between her and that chair that held the gorgeous sable cost.

 

“Oh, please point them out to me.”

 

With young obedience, she surveys the crowd.

 

As she searched, and as I watched her face, my hand was feeling along the rich sable, reaching inside the sable coats’ pocket and pulling out the two small purses, placing them into my own, now sitting on the floor.

 

Her still-searching eyes lit up and she said…

“There they are…”

 

She was pointing to a rather handsome couple. The father is in a dark black tux with a black satin vest. Her mum was sumptuous in a long black satin gown with rhinestone trimmings. She was displaying a rather delicious set of diamond jewellery. My fingers itched, but I had done enough here.

 

I squeeze her shoulder, rising, as she again was becoming mesmerized by watching the dancers. Her earrings were tempting me, and I will admit I tried forcing myself to pass them by, but…

 

“Must take my leave sweetie, charming to have met such a pretty girl.”

 

She answered, keeping her eyes on the dance floor.

“Thank you, miss.”

 

I went in front of her and knelt looking into her doe-like wide green eyes.

“I think you will look positively lovely next year in your gown. I think you should wear your hair up.”

 

She smiled at me as I lifted up her silky hair.

 

“Thank you miss, I’m looking ever so to it, hopefully, I can wear one like mums…”

 

As she said that, my fingers were expertly caressing off the jewels dangling freely from her earlobes with a very practiced stroking touch of my own.

 

With her earrings clutched in my hands, I told her I hoped she would, and looked towards her mother on the dance floor.

 

She looked also and as she was I plopped her earrings in my purse and took leave.

 

I then hurriedly made my way to the bar for a drink and a breather. I had meant to pace myself this evening and not repeat my mistake from a year ago.

 

I mulled over my drink, watching the crowd, admiring the pickings they wore or carried. The drink and my delicious thoughts took their effect and I realized I needed to urgently use the loo, sorry, powder my nose, as the wealthy ones would say.”

 

I headed inside the nearest one and found one empty stall remaining. It was then a large group of women came in and gathered around the sinks and side tables waiting their turn.

 

I exited and with practiced quickness, looked them over, eyeballing a few plump purses, and the rings and bracelets that adorned the wrists, fingers holding them. I focused on an ornate diamond clip worn in the blonde hair of a young lady dressed in black velvet, my fingers tingled. Licking my lips I yelled…

 

“Mouse, there’s a mouse in my stall!”

 

In the ensuing panic, I forced myself into their startled midst as I hurried to leave. Bumping into the velvet-gowned young lady, she tripped and started to fall, as it was playing out, my hand snaked up through her hair easily whisking out the startled young thing’s fancy diamond clip in the process.

 

I made the door and left. Marveling at how easy that score had been. The fact that the flashy hair clip had been the only jewel probably allowed to be worn by the young lady did not faze me a bit.

 

I walked around the outer rim of the room, basking in the clever way I had nicked that expensive diamond clip from the unwary young victim.

 

It was then, in a side alcove of couches and comfy chairs, I spotted the group I had come in with. Already going on with drink-induced chatting and giggling. All very touchy-feely and huggy

 

I was all in for a bit of that action, seeing a multitude of opportunities for my fingers to be employed with.

 

I grabbed a tray of drinks that was sitting waiting for one of the waiters.

 

Took it over where it was well received by this group of wealthy young ladies.

 

And soon was again in thicke with them, laughing and doing some touching of my own upon their softly, expensively, attired figures.

 

I easily lifted fat wallets from two unguarded evening purses, before deciding to up my game.

 

One of the ladies, Trish, dressed in a silk dress with a nice diamond drop pendant and an even nicer gem-filled bracelet was telling a story that I wasn’t paying any attention to. What I was paying attention to was the other 3 dames in the group. All three dolled up in satin gowns with some very nice jewelry set with gemstones that matched the colors of their sumptuous designer gowns.

 

We were all huddled very close together around Trish to listen in to her captivating gossiping story told in a whisper.

 

They were not watching me.

 

I was holding onto one of the listening broad's blue satin gloved hands, managing to slowly work off her cocktail ring, a large sapphire surrounded by diamonds.

 

As we all put hands to our mouths to gasp over a particularly juicy bit of Trish’s story I placed my hand up along the backside of another listener's sunset-red taffeta gown.

 

Reaching for her necklace I undid the clasp, then waited until another highlight of Trish’s story had us all leaning in closer before slipping the ruby set gold necklace from around my victim’s throat without missing a beat.

 

Trish finally reached the climax of her story and the ladies turned toward each other and started talking about it over.

 

I just smiled the said.

“Really. That’s quite a delicious story.”

Though I still had no clue about her babbling.

 

But as I said that I place my left hand on the diamond-clad wrist of her right hand, over her vulgarly pricy bracelet. She put her other hand on my chest. I swore she was coping a feel.

 

She chirped...

“Isn’t it a riot, really I cannot believe it happened.”

 

As she said that, looking earnestly for approval in my hazel eyes with her heavily mascaraed blue ones, I squeezed her wrist, undoing her diamond bracelet and lifting it into my palm.

 

Transferring the bracelet to my pocket. I picked up a drink and chatted with them for a good ten minutes.

 

I finally found an opportunity to bid them adieu.

 

I received hugs all around. As I hugged Trish, my fingers nimbly undid her pendant and I slipped it off as her friends began yet another conversation.

 

Trish was in a hurry to join in so I had a very easy time of it.

 

I headed back out the hallway, finally letting out my breath, to have a smoke and take a well-earned break as I decided what to do next.

 

This patch was proving a gold mine, but have I had my run?

 

That would be a big No, to my run of luck being over that evening!

  

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

As I headed out I passed one of the rental guards. He looked bored. I noticed his open handcuffs attached to his belt.

 

I went up, acting tipsy, and placing my hand on his shoulder winked at him

 

“Happy to see you on the job.”

 

As I told him that my other hand lifted off his cuffs, mainly because I take a fancy to acquire anything shiny.

 

I then head out to the exit.

 

A man and lady are on the ground by the stairs smoking right under a ‘no smoking sign.

 

They did not appear to be a couple.

 

The male is wearing a fitted suit and what I considered a power tie, smoking a long thin cigar. I can tell he is wealthy by his silver Rolex and a fat wallet.

 

The man is randy ,obviously hitting on the girl. Not successfully I might add.

 

He eyes me with flirty interest.

 

I eyed the girl.

 

She was an early 20ish model of the type one would call mousey. Very tipsy and coy. I was surprised she wasn’t coming onto the bloke's advances.

 

Emilie, the girl, was wearing a fitted designer dress of gold satin with rhinestone trimmings. She was sporting a nice collection of expensive gold jewelry, pouring all along her body from ears, neck wrists, and hairpiece. She had no less than 5 cocktail rings that flashed rippling out along her fingers as she smoked.

 

I had the inkling, mainly by how she carried herself. that she may have been wearing gold jewelry this evening, but she also owned and could have been wearing diamonds. But gold did not interest me. Her diamonds would have.

 

So I found myself wishing our randy male fellow smoker would chase away the girl so I can relieve the git of his deliciously tempting expensive watch.

 

I pulled out one of my two lighters, the round one with no fuel, and unsuccessfully tried to lit my cigarette.

 

The male whose name was Sebastian, leaned over to light it for me and I nimbly picked his wallet.

 

The rental cop just then stuck his long nose outside the main door.

 

Looking down upon our small group he lectured

“‘Ere no. No doing that there. Take your business to the park yonder.”

 

He went back inside.

 

Sebastian sighed, giving us both a look. Sensing, incorrectly I might add, that neither of us are interested in him, he tossed the nub of his cigar and followed the guard inside.

 

Since I had just started my cigarette I crossed the street. The girl followed me, gaily chirping in my ear

“ That’s probably the only thing the guard is allowed to do, and thank you for saving me from that bore Sebastian. “

 

She pulled out a cigarette and asked if I had a light. I hesitated, then pulled out my square lighter and easily lit it. She guided my hand to her mouth. Her eyes were looking int mine, exploring. I felt her fingers subtlety caress my wrist.

 

It just may have been in gratitude, but that’s not what I read in her eyes.

 

Now I don’t lean that way, unless it’s to my benefit. Her gold jewelry now did appear to me to be one, a benefit I mean.

 

“Thank you she whispered coyly.”

 

Your welcome I said, taking up her hand and purring how pretty she looked this evening. Which was no lie, on several levels.

 

Yes. I dolled myself up pretty well she said. Her fingers wrapping around mine.

 

“I think you look lovely also..” she complimented me with a shyness I found almost as fetching as her gold necklace.

 

I had read the signs correctly, now if only I was right about everything I had deduced about her. My mind already wrapping around a plan.

 

I let her pull me to her. I could feel her perking breast’s running scintillating along my own through the thin material of my dress. Her breathing became deeper.

 

I responded by spitting out my cigarette and clasping my hands behind her and digging my fingers into her hinny.

She squealed with delight. Her own cigarette tumbling from her thicke red lips.

 

She went onto her tippy toes and planted a kiss upon my mouth. I responded by adding my tongue to the party.

 

She raised her knee up between my legs and began massaging my sweet spot sending prickly waves of pleasure through my entire being. Though my real center of pleasure lay upon her gold jewels and the way they were delightfully shimmering as she played along with my figure.

 

I raised my hands around her back. My leg went up as she stopped. Feeling it there she began to rub along it. Exciting herself.

 

Running my fingers to the back of her throat as all of my marks attention was on pleasuring herself, I had the pleasure of undoing the clasp of her three-strand gold necklace and lifting it from the front of her dress to behind her back and into my fist.

 

She whispered.

“There’s a playground up on the hill “

 

I answered, startled at how husky my voice was coming out

“ A playground, I like the sound of that. “

 

I let her lead, my hand wrapped around her silken waist. Holding tightly onto my prize.

 

^^^^^^^^**

Reaching the deserted playground,

We embraced, sucking and kissing passionately

 

I sat her on the bench. Had her lie down.

 

She giggled as my hands went up underneath her dress, and silk slip. I then discovered why she was giggling, she was not wearing panties.

 

My fingers delved inside past wet hairs and probed as she arched her back in ecstasy. She spread her dress open, revealing plump breasts striking inside her thin gold satin brocade patterned brassiere. She managed to undo it and flung it onto the grass. Then began to massage her naked breasts, rings sparkling, solid gold bracelets glinting. Her exposed breasts cooled in the misty air.

 

My free hand went up and joined in with her fun. Her rings were pleasingly digging into my flesh as I dig deeper into hers.

 

She was moaning with deep guttural primeval pleasure. Her whole figure is on electric, lava-hot fire.

 

Then shrieking so loudly it echoed, in a flash of seething back-arching ecstasy, she came….

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Later we sat on a bench smoking. She was basking in delight.

 

“So happy I met you…!” she said cheerfully.

 

I intentionally didn’t answer.

 

She looked up into my face.

 

“I know this is cliche but want to go to my flat?”

 

I looked at her, then looked over her remaining gold jewelry. It was calling out to just take me, as I answered her question...

 

“Gorgeous, simply Gorgeous. Oh I’m going to you flat Luv , but alone!”

 

She looked at me confused, trying to think through her horny drink-induced haze just what I was prattling on about.

 

I pulled the cuffs from my bag.

 

Going around behind her I raised her arms, she was totally pliable. Not really registered what I was holding. I pulled her arms behind the bench. Cuffing around one wrist, I cuffed the other end to a metal leg set in concrete.

 

As I looked into her eyes I saw they were starting to spin and sure enough, she passed out, for whatever reason, fear or just physically spent…

 

I checked her pulse, she wasn’t dead, just in a cold dead faint.

 

I began stripping the sully Lass of her remaining gold jewelry. Pulling out her earrings, undoing her hairpiece, and unfastening her many bracelets. Then methodically working away, I sucked off her rings. And finally, I unclasped a gold ankle bracelet.

 

Picking up her purse I found her address and the numbered key to her flat. I left her surprisingly mock designer purse on the bench. But emptied her wallet, discarding it on the ground.

 

As I checked her over for any missed valuables I thought of giving her a little more pleasure, but decided I was better off just letting her sleep it off.

 

Walking quickly out of the playground I cut to the opposite side of the park.

 

Hailing one of the parked cabs I gave him her address. Using her money to pay for it when we got there.

 

It was in a very posh neighborhood, I licked my lips wondering if I was right to be expecting diamonds somewhere inside her flat.

 

As I enter the block of flats I see a well-dressed man unlocking the door next to my victim's numbered door.

 

I say “Ello” and he jumps.

 

“Thought you were my wife.”

 

I had moved closer spying a fat wallet bulging from his pocket

 

I purr saying cheekily:

 

“No, wish I was, did you lose her now?

 

“Ah, here she is, found her now didn’t I.”

 

I turn. My eyes bugging out. I forgot all about lifting wallets as I saw his wife come inside, dazzling like some ornate overfilled display case at Tiffanies.

 

She was wearing a deep blue brocade patterned silk dress with flashy sapphire rhinestones adorning the neckline and waistline.

 

Her hazel eyes had been masterfully made up with black eyeliner and blue mascara. She looked like a picture actress from a Telly show.

 

She was wearing a stunning set of sparkling sapphire and diamond-encrusted jewellery. A full array, hanging from her ears, neck wrists, and fingers. One ring was especially flashy

 

Perched on her head was a short diamond studded tiara.

 

I had seen many tiaras this evening, but none this close to my already trembling fingers.

 

At the rather daringly low cut of her gown hung a very expensive sapphire/ diamond brooch successfully stealing away the prominence of the lady’s beautifully plump breasts.

 

She floats up to us.

 

They are both happily tipsy and introduce themselves as my new neighbor.

 

They both ask if I would like to join in for a nip, or a nightcap.

 

Bird in hand I thought. Let this one go.

 

I smile at the pretty pair

 

“Rain check please I need my beauty sleep.”

 

I give them both a hard look over, openly relishing the rich attire, and beckoning trimmings, of this clueless couple as they bid me farewell and go inside their flat

 

Then with those succulent imaginings, I use the key to my victim’s flat and go inside to rob the joint.

 

I waste no time, heading directly to the girls' bedroom where I knew the good stuff would be found.

 

Finding the bedrooms down a corridor, I go inside the master room and methodically begin with the contents in the drawers of a large oak wardrobe, feeling through satin, silk, and lacy undergarments. I find a velvet case holding some nice pearls and empty them into my purse. Then felt along some prickling soft dresses and gowns, being rewarded with finding a gold broach and diamond pin for my efforts.

 

Knowing there has to be more I check behind the many pictures on the walls.

 

Finding one, a painting of ‘Twelve Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh, set on a hinge that, when opened, exposed a wall safe. Expertly I place an ear to it as I work the tumblers, finding the combination quite easily.

 

Opening it I see several items. An old, loved Teddy Bear, a bundle of letters tied with ribbon on top of some photos, an oblong box that looked strikingly like the one I keep my vibrator in, and more importantly, three thin velvet-covered cases. Pulling out the largest case. I opened it.

 

My eyes opened wide, like a child who has been visited by Father Christmas. I had found her diamonds. A nice full collection of sparking “ice” that I quickly let slide into my purse. The others two cases contained evening jewellery also. One was a nicely ornate set of 24 Caret gold and the last was a set of glittery sapphires. I empty them all quickly.

 

Time enough later to drool over the nice haul I was taking.

 

I left the safe open and lifting my now very weighty purse, started to leave her bedroom to make my escape.

 

But then I spied it… and a naughty thought entered my head.

 

Sitting on a hook in a shadowy corner was a new dress, not yet taken in for a fitting. A short sleek black satin number with a sassy low-cut top, ribbed waistband, and above-the-knee hemline.

 

I go over and admire it. On a whim I slip off my dress, then undo my bra, to try it on.

 

Brilliant, it fits me like a hand in a glove.

 

Going back to the wardrobe, still wearing the dress, I pull out a small satchel and dump its contents on the floor.

 

I place my bulging purse inside, then neatly fold the dress I had been wearing and place it on top. Adding my bra also, relishing the feel of the material upon my naked breasts.

 

I also snatch up a pair of silver rhinestone-adorned high heels I had admired and place them inside also.

 

I headed out, more than satisfied with my evening’s haul, I had every intention of planning to call it a night.

 

But, as I was leaving the flat, I see my victim’s new neighbor, the man, as he is locking the door.

 

Putting the key in his pocket he turned and spots me standing there.

 

I gave him my best foxy smile, asking in my best new neighborly fashion

 

“We’re you off to in such a hurry luv everything, all right? Didja Lose your wife again?”

 

“So sorry”. he apologized in a high voice. not questioning why I was now back out in the hallway in a different dress, though his eyes went down to take a brief study of my breasts, then my legs gracefully sticking out from the dress’s shamefully high hemline.

 

He answered, obviously flustered on several levels.

“It’s a bother I need to go back to the restaurant, my wife left her bloody expensive purse there.”

 

A fish hooked, now to play him I thought as he walked up to me.

 

“Hope you not too long. And about that nightcap, knock on my door first when you get back luv.”

 

I reached down and began fingering his John Thomas, I gave it a good wank, finding the boy was already hard.

 

He was not displeased by my copping a feel, in the least.

 

He stuttered, before dashing off.

 

“I, I h’have 30 minutes to find a cab and get there before it closes.”

 

I smile. My hand was on his room key which I had lifted from his pocket.

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

Flipping the keys in my hand, I went to the outside entrance and from a side, window saw the husband catch his cab.

 

“Bully,” I thought, that gives me 45 minutes, more than enough time.

 

I carefully walk down the deserted hallway and reach the flat of the friendly, wealthy, couple.

 

I carefully pry open the door and have a look and listen.

 

There is no one in the main room, which is unlit. It all appears to be the same layout, though opposite, as the flat I just burgled.

 

I carefully close and lock the door and slip into the shadows, my eyes adjusting, aware that I am running against the clock.

 

I hear movement from the area I know is the flats’ kitchen. Then the light clicks on. My objective, again, is the master bedroom’s wall safe. I’m hoping the Wife had had enough time to slip into something more comfortable and put her jewels away in the wall safe.

 

But I needed to take a look.

 

I took a peak in the kitchen. I could see her figure moving about. She was still wearing her gown…and jewels. I would have to deal with that later. But first the safe. From a reflection, I saw her Mascara was askew. They’ve been naughty tonight.

 

I move over to the small corridor off which lie the bedrooms. I see the master bedroom door is slightly open. Candlelight flickered out from the bottom, dancing along the polished oak wood floors.

 

Reaching the door to the master bedroom, I open it, slip inside, and lock the bedroom door behind me.

 

They have indeed just moved in. There were several traveling cases of various sizes. Shirts, trousers, and ties hung on a corner stand. In another corner, an oil Landscape painting was on the floor under the closed wall safe, waiting to be put up. Next to the safe was a large double tigerwood wardrobe.

 

I continue to quickly survey the rest of their room.

 

From the opposite side of the room, the candle was lit on a vanity reflected in the mirror. Something glittered. Shiny I thought.

 

I go over and see several 14k gold and silver necklaces, bangle bracelets, and rings all laid out in a heap inside an open case.

 

Suddenly I hear the door knob rattling

 

“Luv. Your back? You’ve got the chambre door looked”

 

“Chambre is it?” I thought. Pretty fancy for a flat. Even an upscale one like this.

 

Dropping the small satchel I go over to the door. Tapping on it I unlock it and stand by the wall so I will be behind the door as it opens.

 

The wife swished in, unknowingly talking to her still-absent husband in her heavy lowland Scottish accent.

 

“Guid lord laddie, sneaking about on myself are ya now? Well I….. umpph ?”

 

I had snuck out from behind the door, gripping her from behind, one hand on her mouth cutting off her sentence, the other pointing a finger in the small of her elegantly attired back like I was holding a pistol on her.

 

I hissed Into a diamond dangling ear.…

“Okay my pretty bird, this is not your husband, but a thief. You know what a thief does, now dontcha?”

 

She nodded weakly and I felt her figure go limp.

 

“Good, now not a sound out of you. Go and sit on that stool yonder,”

 

As I guided her, she went obediently to the oak vanity stool. As we passed a spot where more of her husband's ties hung, I whipped off a handful.

 

I pulled out the stool and she sat down facing the vanity mirror, giving her a clear sweeping view of the master bedroom behind her.

 

In the reflection of the mirror, she saw me, recognized who she thought I was(new neighbor), and looked at me with sad, large puppydog-like, questioning eyes.

 

I quickly, perhaps a bit roughly, pulled her hands behind her and tied them up using her husband's neckties. Then, using the same, I bound each ankle to the front legs of the stool.

 

“Now lady, where’s your husband?”

 

Tearfully she lied in a pleading tone…

 

“Not here, but he is coming back soon.”

 

Of course, I knew better, but I said…

“Then I’ll take my chances.”

 

She started to say more, but I cut her off by gagging her with a blue-striped Etonian Club tie that went well with her blue mascara.

 

Again in her ear, I whispered sternly.

 

“Going to be a good girl now, aren’t ya Lass?!”

 

She gave me a feeble nod yes.

 

I look down at the open case of day jewelry.

I reach in and begin scooping out the contents into the satchel as she watches and quivers in uneasy discomfort.

 

I knelt beside her.

“Okay my pretty one, time for you to take some weight off, time for me to trim your feathers.

 

She balked as I ran my fingers, intently, up along her gown, my fingers scintillating with the feel of its soft material.

 

Ignoring her muffled pleas I reached up and yanked out a long gem-studded pierced earring from each ear. I dropped them inside the satchel at my knees.

 

Then facing her, smiling with wicked intent, I unclamped her heavily jewel-laden necklace and let it slide down between her fear-perked breasts before reaching in deep and after a bit of fondling, finally fished out. I plopped it on top of her earrings, where it lay sparkling with intense fire.

 

I moved behind her, watching her watch me as I worked off her wide sparkling bracelets, dropping them onto the necklace, then I sucked off each of her rings, spitting them out into the growing pile inside the leather satchel. The last one, the big one I had admired, I left it in my mouth and looked at it in the mirror. My victim shuddered. I spit it out onto the glistening pile inside the satchel.

 

In the reflection of the mirror, I carefully watched her reaction, as I also watched my hands, snaking around feeling along her voluptuous bosom. I groped down along the pair of pert beauties, finally reaching down below her ample breasts, and unfastened the stunning brooch she had been so daringly wearing out, begging all evening to be stolen by any thief-minded observer.

 

And it was now mine!

 

I said as much to her, and she squirmed at my sneering words.

 

“Sweetie, you have probably no idea how much interest you generated amongst thieves like me when wearing a brooch like this out for an evening. I could barely pay attention to my dinner at the restaurant we were all at. I’m surprised you did not lose it earlier, but then, that’s my luck for tonight.”

 

I pocketed the brooch. This was too special to lose.

 

“Okay princess, now your precious crown..!”

 

I stood up and played with her hair, running my fingers through her silky locks I reached for her shimmering diamond-encrusted tiara and worked it out.

I placed it carefully in with the rest of my newly acquired jewelry collection.

 

Then I placed my head on top of her own and looking at her in the mirror pulled down her gag. I then said to my hapless prey.

“Let’s have the numbers to the safe pretty bird.”

 

She shook her head

“It’s empty. My jewels are still in the bank she pleaded.”

 

I cooed into her now naked ear.

“Liar, your eyes are a dead giveaway. “

 

I smiled at her reflection with a very pernicious look before continuing:

 

“But, even if your eyes were wrong, I’ll still be having a look won’t I now luv. I live to be looking at the insides of safes, empty or not. It’s a quirk of me own”

 

She shook her head no again.

 

I sighed. Redid her gag, picked up the delightfully 2/3rds full satchel carried it over to the safe.

 

Putting my ear against it and worked the tumblers. With the practice I had with the other flat’s safe, I had it opened in no time.

 

Inside was several healthy bundles of £ notes and five velvet-covered cases. I stuffed the notes into the satchel. Pulling out each case I opened them finding my eyes almost blinded by the assorted jewels they contained as the candle lite played over them. I would say that each case contained £75,000 worth of gems. A very nice haul.

 

As I emptied the last case I threw it on the blue satin cover of the king-sized bed and looked at my victim, thoroughly wilted down.

 

I said to her…

“What’s in there?”

 

Her eyes opened wide looking at the spot along the wall I was pointing to…

 

Chuckling I went to the double wardrobe I had been pointing to, and opened it, seeing a fine collection of my victim's clothing. Including gowns of every color and type of rich material. I looked them over, selecting a rather sleekly pretty one of blood-red satin with the diamond rhinestone trimmings that outlined the gown's bosom and waist, a design of the sort that always catches my eye.

 

Watching my hapless victim, I placed it against my figure as I looked at her, and then as I slid my fingers up and down its sensuously fine length, I admired myself in the mirror.

 

“Well my pretty one, it needs taking in, but I can make it work.”

 

I placed it gently inside the satchel, which I then closed up.

 

Then I thought pearls, they always have pearls?

Deviously I abruptly snapped out a question, though I suspected I knew the answer.

 

“Where are your pearls lady!”

 

She jumped at my sharp words, her eyes involuntarily dropping down to the shelves at the bottom of the wardrobe.

 

I knelt and began opening the shelves and once again found my fingers swimming through some rather luxurious silk and satin underthings.

 

Why these rich twit females think that places like their lingerie drawers make for an excellent place to hide their valuables will always be a mystery to me.

 

It was in the bottom drawer, underneath some long dress slips, where I found not one, but two cases that when opened I was pleased to see contained two sets of quite lovely pearls.

 

I held one necklace of pearls, a double strander, to my throat where it lay prettily down along my black satin dress just reaching my own delightfully perked naked breasts, and admired it in the mirror, seeing my victim slump down even more in despair.

 

I dropped the necklace into the satchel, quickly followed by the rest of the cases gleaming contents.

 

I then walked over with the satchel and standing above her lied to her reflection in the mirror...

 

“Okay pretty bird, lastly now, where’s the delicious evening purse I saw you with at the restaurant tonight?”

 

Wide-eyed she tried to tell me, words muffled by her gag, that she didn’t have it, forgotten it there hadn't she now.

 

I said to her, tweaking her chin:

“I believe you this time luv, ….Toodles..”

 

Then left her there, tied up in her bedroom.

 

^^^^^^^^^^

 

I headed down the hall and peeked out the outside door to the corridor.

 

Seeing it was empty I went out, locking the door behind me.

 

Going to the flat of my first victim I tossed the key inside and left the door unlocked.

 

Sighing with relief, I headed out.

  

^^^^^^

 

As I leave the complex of posh flats I see a cab coming down the street.

 

I quickly move into the shadows.

 

The cab pulls to the curb, and not surprisingly, my victim’s husband exited the cab.

 

I stay hidden in the shadows as he hurries past me unseen.

 

As he went inside the door, I slip from the shadows and jump in the back of the very same cab he had just exited, startling the driver who was a tad bit reluctant to take on another fare, that was until I waved a £50 note in his face.

 

I let out a deep breath as we drove off.

 

I was on pinpricks for the whole drive, though it was less than 9 kilometers away.

 

I had the driver drop me off at the hotel across from the one I was staying at this week.

 

I went inside, snuck out a side door, and when the coast was clear, crossed the street and walked into my hotel.

 

In my room, I picked up my already packed bags( a precaution I always take before leaving my room in case of the need for a quick getaway ), put on my leather jacket, and headed down to the front desk.

 

For during the ride here in the cab I reasoned to myself that tonight it would be a good idea to promptly check out of my hotel and take the first early morning train to…anywhere far away.

 

Which is exactly what I did.

 

So, on a roll of the dice so to speak, I took the train to my next adventure.

 

Her next Adventure:

 

“A Nefariously Rotten Scoundrel”

 

Fini

 

Outside of my comfort zone. Photographing people and events isn't my forte'. I am mainly into the slow and methodical landscape photos. Living close to DC my wife and I sometimes like to go downtown and witness history. We wanted to see the happenings around the White House. This is the day after the media announced Biden the winner. This isn't meant to be a political statement, just a moment in time.

Guess I’m back to the drawing board again....to making new heroes

 

This guy has nothing to do with a certain Nintendo character (Meta Knight). With the recent heroes made by our fellow Leaguers. Hags to those inspirations from you. Also inspired by Dr Mid-Nite, Peacemaker, and Agent Venom. This is one of my favourite characters so far, and a one I enjoyed making.

 

-Multi, current meme maker.

 

Profile

Name: Samuel “Sam” Clark Rolton

Hero's name: Metanight, also spelled as Metanite. Also called by others as Sam, Sammy Boy, “Man from the Roof”.

Age: 22

 

Bio: The son of illegal immigrants, Sam is a street smart kid. Despite growing up poor in the neighbourhood, he built things that he found useful. At 9, he looted a handgun from a unconscious robber and took it to his basement, and managed to make a robot for target practice and developed his own self-taught style of fighting.

 

Sam grew up to join the Marine Corps, alongside Adrian Kane and Marcus Crúz. He was present alongside them in some military tours, and managed to make friends with them. He struggled with depression for a year after his service ended.

 

Returning home, he became a bartender and courier. Despite fighting depression, he turned to his recently developed powers, which he anticipated years ago grew more stronger and honed it to his equipment. Sam trained his mind and body to perfection, and became a vigilante. He was renowned for his thievery and hunted down criminals from rooftops above at night, which earned him status among the superhero community. He also managed to build a companion out of the scrapped robot into a smaller one, the one that he carries by his shoulder, named “Nicholas”.

 

Sam’s recent activities include a non stop hunt of criminals, most notably trying to track down his city’s biggest drug lords, dealers and mob bosses, but has taken interest in Adrian Kane’s team, whom Sam knows about his career...

 

But is he the 3rd agent?

 

Powers and abilities: While not having genius level intellect, Sam possesses the ability to sedate people like a tranquilliser gun, and emit a odourless gas that knocks out people and puts them to sleep. He also has super stamina, the ability to breathe without oxygen, and is equally matched to an above-average Olympic level athlete (peak human strength, conditioning, running etc.) Sam is an expert thief, able to pick locks, hide undetected, and among his skills he is also good in combat, freerunning/parkour and wall/mountain climbing.

 

Weaknesses: Lack of salt in food, lactose intolerant, despite being able to survive without oxygen, he is still susceptible to some airborne hazards to a degree. His powers aren’t that well against powerful psychics and non-organic beings. He used to have depression after his military service.

 

Equipment: Super flexible, toughened suit laced with custom protective parts, two custom masks, one that covers his nose and mouth, the other for his eyes. He possesses some hidden grappling hooks and zip lines that allow him access to buildings. Nicholas, which as as his companion, is also a drone/spy camera, detector, shoulder rifle and assistant that helps him (similar to Bao-Dur’s remote from KOTOR II, as well as War Machine’s cannon) Personal sidearms/handguns and melee are his preferred weapons of choice.

 

Personality: Kind, well-thought, conflicted, decisive, good natured, methodical (to his own ways)

Richmond Road, Hackney

Normally geology is rather slow and methodical—not so for active-source geophysics. Here's an image shot at the time of a blast set off in the San Andreas Fault in a reservoir with the lake level lowered. As such, the ground was water saturated, making it rather non-compressive and hence the "bounce" of the ground surface during the blast. We had placed a 30-inch square by 1/2 inch thick aluminum plate on top of the back-filled and compressed borehole, which was then capped with bags of wet sand (in order to add weight to the capping plate). I used a 300 mm lens in order to stay a safe distance away from the blast.

This one is from a couple grids ago, February's to be precise. This grid, H5, straddled Hwy 30 just east of the St. Johns Bridge. It was an odd grid, with off-limits natural gas plants in one part, Forest Park in another, and a small patch of residential neighborhood tucked away like an afterthought. I am not sure what it must be like to live on Hwy 30. It seems like it would be noisy and dirty and backing out of your driveway must require a specific sort of nerve, but there are a few dozen homes found along this stretch. Many of them are a block or so off of the highway itself, but several are right up on it, like this one. I am not sure what story of action and violence this splattered mud is a remainder of, but it caught my eye as I walked along the short stretch of highway that enjoys a sidewalk. I was testing out a Canon AF35M from the shop that day and had loaded it with some Lomochrome Metropolis film. The camera was potentially faulty and the film has not proven a favorite of mine, so I was allowing myself plenty of liberty in snapping off shots and not taking my usual slow, methodical, careful approach. It is nice to change it up now and then, just as the Grid Project has been nice in getting me off my beaten paths and into some other areas of Portland I do not explore much.

 

Canon AF35M

Lomochrome Metropolis

Grid H5 - Portland Grid Project

Pfeiffer Beach, Big Sur, CA.

 

This rock formation is a photographer's dream. I arrived at Pfeiffer Beach while the sun was high above the rock, with photographers assembled like a small firing squad, shorter lenses up front, long lenses scoping from afar. As the sun began its golden hour dance, the photographers very methodically began to coalesce toward the center until finally one of Big Sur's visual treats appeared. The sun began to peak right through this window, straight down the middle (as its angle dictates during the earth's position in late Nov/early Dec) At this point we were all pretty mushed together, oohing and awwing at this awesome sight.

www.jsricephotography.com

 

This towering barn is methodically being torn down. It's sad to watch this historical structure slowly disappear -- there are so few majestic barns that are this old left standing.