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The Version offered for Export to the Azmirian Military.
The well armored vehicle holds 3 Crew and 7 passengers.
It is armed with a remote controlled turret wit a 23mm autocanon and coaxial medium machinegun, as well as an ATGM launcher that has to be reloaded from a hatch behind the turret and can also be detached from the turret for use by the dismounts.
Compared to the first enty, the Crabat, it is tracked, a bit shorter and wider, has a remote controlled turret and an aditional hatch at the top. Its armor protection is better due to the assult gun origins and the side skirts. Due to not having a manned turret the 10 persons inside are not as crammed together.
The downside is a lower Speed and higher weight.
Fixed the Colors, but I still have to note that the orignal LDD Version of the Assult gun was made several years ago, though it was never published before and the IFV Version was made specificly for the contest.
20 studs long, 12 studs wide.
All images available for licensing via me. I offer commercial and editorial pet photography on a commissioned basis. And with a pet picture database with thousands of hand-picked images of dogs, cats, as well as horses, I might already have what you are looking for. All pictures here can be licensed.
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French postcard by Editions P.I., Paris, offered by Les Carbones Korès "Carboplane", no. 796.
During our trip to Italy, the French actress Françoise Arnoul passed away after a long illness in Paris on 20 July 2021. In the early 1950s, the cute and pretty actress was presented as the new French sex symbol. Soon she was overshadowed by the spectacular Brigitte Bardot, but Arnoul had enough talent and range to forge a decent film career for herself. Françoise Arnoul was 90.
Françoise Arnoul was born as Françoise Annette Marie Mathilde Gautsch in Constantine, France (now Algeria), in 1931. Her father was a general in the army, Charles Gautsch; her mother was a former stage actress, Jeanne Gradwohl, who worked before her marriage under the name of Jeanne Henry. Françoise grew up in Rabat and Casablanca, and after WWII she returned to Paris. Her mother proved to be valuable support when her daughter expressed a desire to take courses in drama. She attended the drama classes of Andree Bauer-Thérond, and made her film debut as an extra in Rendez-vous de Juillet/Rendezvous in July (Jacques Becker, 1949). Her first bigger role was in L'Épave/Sin and Desire (Willy Rozier, 1949) in which she had some undressed scenes. It made her a star overnight. She was touted as the newest French sex symbol in films like Nous irons à Paris/We Will All Go to Paris (Jean Boyer, 1950) opposite nice and attractive Philippe Lemaire. In the morally rigid 1950s, she played sexy and sensuous characters, that were also often troubled and destructive. She was the perverse femme fatale in films like the Georges Siménon adaptation Le Fruit défendu/Forbidden Fruit (Henri Verneuil, 1952) in which she seduces a country doctor played by Fernandel, La Rage au corps/Tempest in the Flesh (Ralph Habib, 1953) in which she is the unfaithful wife of Raymond Pellegrin, and especially in the wildly successful Film Noir La Chatte/The Cat (Henri Decoin, 1958) in which she played a black leather-clad resistance fighter during World War II. Arnoul made of her questioning scene by the Nazis an erotic extravaganza as she slowly removes her stockings under the officer's lecherous eyes.
The unusually pretty and petite Françoise Arnoul proved her talent and range in such highly regarded films as Michelangelo Antonioni’s episode film I Vinti/The Vanquished (1953), the wonderful Fernandel comedy Le Mouton à cinq pattes/The Sheep Has Five Legs (Henri Verneuil, 1954), and Jean Cocteau's Le Testament d'Orphee/The Testament of Orpheus (1960). In Jean Renoir's classic French Cancan/French Can-Can (1955), she played Nini, a young laundress from Montmartre, who conquers the Moulin Rouge with her sexy dance. In 1964, during the shooting of Compartiment tueurs/The Sleeping Car Murder (Costa-Gavras, 1965), she met director Bernard Paul who would become her life partner. From 1956 till 1960, she had been married to publicity agent Georges Cravenne, the future father of the César and Mollière awards. In the following years, she focussed on assisting Paul with his first films. Together with Marina Vlady, they founded in 1968 the production company Francina, which would produce films like Dernière sortie avant Roissy/Last Exit Before Roissy (Bernard Paul, 1977). Paul died in 1980. His loss affected Francoise dearly and she had difficulty regaining a foothold in the cinema. During the 1970s, her film career had tapered off, but she appeared in Raul Ruiz’ Diálogos de exiliados/Dialogues of the Exiled (1975) and Violette & François (Jacques Rouffio, 1977) as the mother of Violette (Isabelle Adjani). She also had some success as a television actress. In the late 1990s, Françoise Arnoul returned on the screen in character roles in such films as Temps de Chien/Dog Days (Jean Marboeuf, 1996), Post coitum animal triste/Smell of Geraniums (Brigitte Roüan, 1997) and Merci pour le geste/Thanks for the Gesture (Claude Faraldo, 2000). She published her autobiography entitled 'Animal doué de Bonheur' (Animal Endowed with Happiness) in 1995. In 1997, she was the president of the jury of the Caméra d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. Françoise Arnoul remained active as a TV actress. In his bio at Les Gens de Cinéma, Yvan Foucart wrote: "The young vamp has given way to a blooming woman whose wonderful face radiates serenity. She kept her beautiful smile, her eyes still have the same sparkle and she kept an admirably slim silhouette. (...) So, dear Francoise, you understand why we can not forget you. And why we are still in love with you." At the age of 90, Françoise Arnoul passed away after a long illness in Paris on 20 July 2021.
Sources: Yvan Foucart (Les Gens de Cinéma - French), Sandra Brennan (AllMovie), AlloCiné (French), Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
This morning Lettice is entertaining a neighbour, of sorts, of her parents, Mr. Alisdair Gifford, nephew of Sir John Nettleford-Hughes. Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John is still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intends to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. As an eligible man in a time when such men are a rare commodity, with a vast family estate in Bedfordshire, houses in Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico and Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, quite close to the Glynes estate, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, invited him as a potential suitor to her 1922 Hunt Ball, which she used as a marriage market for Lettice. Luckily Selwyn Spencely, the handsome eldest son of the Duke of Walmsford, rescued Lettice from the horror of having to entertain him, and Sir John left the ball early in a disgruntled mood with a much younger partygoer. Lettice recently reacquainted herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate, Gossington, a baronial Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. As she was leaving to return to London on the Monday, Sir John approached her and asked if she might meet with his nephew, Mr. Gifford, as he wishes to have a room in his Wiltshire house, Arkwright Bury, redecorated as a surprise for his Australian wife, Adelina, who collects blue and white porcelain but as of yet has no place to display it at Arkwright Bury. With a smile Lettice agreed, and thus Mr. Gifford now sits opposite her in her Mayfair drawing room.
She appraises Mr. Gifford as he helps himself to a biscuit from the plate on the low coffee table between them. He is a slight man, probably not more than ten years older than herself with pale patrician skin over a fine bone structure, and a mop of auburn hair which is streaked with silvery white hairs, possibly prematurely owing to his experiences in the war. He is dressed in a very smart morning suit with a silver fob watch chain hanging from his cherry red waistcoat pocket. He movements are as delicate as his frame, and his sparking blue eyes are further enhanced by the strong prescription of the glasses persistently sliding down his nose.
“Now, this is what I wanted to show you, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. Gifford says in well educated and modulated tones from the comfort of one of Lettice’s round backed Art Deco arm chairs.
He reaches down with his elongated fingers into the slightly battered and worn brown leather case at his feet, which he arrived with, but refused to allow Edith, Lettice’s maid, to take from him. From it he withdraws an old photograph album. Covered in vibrant green Morocco leather, Lettice notices its bumped corners, which have worn down over many years losing their sharp edges, and a sun faded spine that tells of sitting for many a year, closed on a bookshelf. There is no writing on the cover, but glancing at the thick creamy card pages contained within the covers, she recognises it as a photograph album.
“This is a very precious piece of Arkwright Bury’s, and my own family’s, history.” Mr. Gifford goes on.
“I’m very looking forward to seeing it then.” Lettice remarks with curiosity as she leans forward in her own armchair.
“I don’t know whether my Uncle John told you or not when you were at the Caxton’s country house party at Gossington, but Arkwright Bury was badly damaged in a fire in 1879.”
“No,” Lettice admits. “Your uncle didn’t tell me a great deal about Arkwright Bury at all, Mr. Gifford, other than it fell into some disrepair when your elder brother went off to war, and that since you and your wife inherited it, you have been restoring it.”
“Quite right, Miss Chetwynd,” Mr. Gifford passes over the album to Lettice, who takes it with reverence into her elegant hands. “However, this will give you an idea of what Arkwright Bury used to look like in the 1860s and 70s, before the fire. It’s an album rescued from the conflagration which consists mostly of photographs of the house and its interiors, and not family photographs.”
“How very unusual.” Lettice remarks.
“Well, my grandfather was very passionate about architecture and photography, so I think this may have been a pet project of his.”
“And thus, perhaps why it was saved, Mr. Gifford?” Lettice asks tentatively.
“Perhaps, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. Gifford replies with a gentle shrugging roll of his shoulders.
Lettice finds an old photograph of an unassuming Regency style country house, partially overgrown with creepers, set amidst a simple English park style garden on the front page. The house has a low pitched roof which is hidden from view by the building’s parapets. It has five bays of large sash windows over its two storeys and an Ionic columned portico.
“We think Arkwright Bury may have been designed by Anthony Keck*,” Mr. Gifford explains, assuming that Lettice will know who the Georgian architect is. “Although we cannot confirm it. Like so many things, the precious architectural drawings of Arkwright Bury went up in flames in the 1897 fire. I mean, his work isn’t found in Wiltshire, and if it is his, then it most probably was built after his retirement, and would be the only example in the county. I do know it was built in 1796, and Anthony Keck died just a year later.”
“And you have brought me this album because?” Lettice queries as she starts to turn the page.
“Well, because this has the only known surviving photograph of the Pagoda Room.” Mr. Gifford answers.
“The Pagoda Room?” Lettice asks.
“Yes. Just flip through the first few pages.” The gentleman says helpfully as he leans forward over the black japanned coffee table covered with Lettice’s Art Deco Royal Doulton tea set and tray of biscuits. “It should be on page six or so.” Lettice does as he says, counting the pages in her mind silently as she turns them. “Ahh! There it is.”
Lettice looks to where he points, and there, on a thick card page, beige and greyish and mottled with age, framed by flowers hand painted by one of the more artistic Gifford females of history, is an old photograph, underneath which is written in a delicate looped hand, ‘The Pagoda Room – July 1876’.
“Being from 1876, I’m sure my grandfather took this photograph.” Mr. Gifford explains. “It was called the Pagoda Room because as you can see on the walls, there is some Georgian wallpaper, hand painted and imported from China we assume, which features Pagodas on it. Of course I wasn’t born until after the fire, but my father remembers he and his sister, my Aunt Eugenia, making up stories about Chinese people who lived inside the pagodas.”
“I say!” Lettice laughs. “How frightfully jolly.”
Lettice looks at the image. It depicts the corner of what must have been a larger room with a high dado, papered with the Georgian wallpaper Mr. Gifford mentioned, featuring the stylised pagodas that gave the room its name. The corner is filled with Georgian and Regency furniture that is intermixed with pieces from later periods, the surfaces of tables and the shadowy interiors of a Georgian corner cabinet are cluttered with a collection of decorative porcelain that owed much to the conscientious consumption of the wealthy in the mid Victorian era. Paintings of Gifford ancestors hang on the walls in thick gilt frames, whilst a top heavy elaborate floral display of roses and ferns sits atop a heavily carved Victorian pillar. Overstuffed, yet comfortable looking chairs and sofas fill the space, their owners gone, but their presence marked by a stack of leatherbound books with decorative covers, a sewing basket and embroidery hoop, and a silver teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl and dainty china teacups on a galleried silver tray.
“My grandmother loved needlework, so I’m sure that’s her embroidery frame and basket in the photograph, and my grandfather was an avid reader.”
“Indeed.” Lettice remarks, lowering the page and allowing the well loved album to sit comfortably open across her lap as she reaches over to the black japanned side table on which her telephone stands and picks up her teacup. “And besides for its interesting historical context, you have brought me this album, why, Mr. Gifford?”
“Well, the Arkwright Bury fire tore through that part of the house and destroyed it entirely, Miss Chetwynd.”
“Mmmm…” Lettice sips her tea.
“Or at least I thought it had until recently.” Mr. Gifford continues.
“Go on, Mr. Gifford.”
“Well, as my uncle explained to you, Adelinde and I have almost completed a full restoration of Arkwright Bury, and we only have a small amount left to do. This includes my brother, Cuthbert’s, study.”
“He died before the end of the war, didn’t he, Mr. Gifford?” Lettice asks gently.
“He did, Miss Chetwynd. He was honourably discharged after the Battle of Ypres**, but he came back a very changed man.”
“You never went to France yourself, did you, Mr. Gifford?”
“No,” Mr. Gifford admits a little guiltily. “But please don’t hold that against me, Miss Chetwynd. I wasn’t accepted because of my appalling eyesight.” He pushes his pair of thick lensed glasses up the bridge of his aquiline nose with awkward embarrassment. “I did however work under Mr. Churchill*** in the Admiralty.”
“I won’t hold your not going to battle in Flanders Fields**** against you, Mr. Gifford.” Lettice assures him with a comforting smile.
“Thank you.” he sighs. “That’s a relief.”
“Anyway, the war has been over for more than five years now.”
“Not for some people, it hasn’t.” Mr. Gifford says sadly. “And just because I’m not maimed physically like those poor returned soldiers you see selling matches at the top of Tottenham Court Road or in Piccadilly Circus, there is a certain amount of stigma against me: people thinking I didn’t do my bit during the war.”
“Well, I won’t jump to any incorrect conclusions about what you did, or didn’t do, during the war. My eldest brother returned from the conflict with all his limbs intact, both his eyes and most importantly his mind unaltered, thank god, so I’m hardly in a position to judge you for a lack of injuries.”
“Well, many others feel differently, especially those young, embittered war widows or fiancées, of which there are so many about. You were not affianced to a young officer or captain yourself, Miss Chetwynd?”
“Thankfully no, Mr. Gifford.”
“Poor Cuthbert came back with all his limbs and his sight, but his mind was disturbed from what he witnessed over in France, and he killed himself: shot himself in the temple with his gun before Armistice Day*****.” Mr. Gifford says dryly.
“Yes, I had heard the rumour.” Lettice murmurs quietly in admission.
“And that’s why his study is one of the last places Adelina and I have to deal with.”
“Too many painful memories, Mr. Gifford?”
“Yes,” he admits. “But also, too much mess quite frankly. As I said, Cuthbert came back from the Western Front with his mind addled and his study reflects that, with piles of papers and books in all kinds of disorder, the meaning of which known only to him, so it’s just been too hard to deal with. In fact, Adelina and I closed the door on it, and more often than not have been using it as a storage room whilst we’ve been restoring other parts of Arkwright Bury, shoving furniture and boxes of things between Cuthbert’s belongings. Recently Adelina has been using it to store her boxes of blue and white porcelain that we brought over from Briar Priory, plus a few newly acquired pieces.” He sighs. “It’s actually only been recently that I have had the stomach to start sorting out Cuthbert’s things. Adelina wants to turn the study into a display room for her collection, since we can’t seem to find anywhere else suitable in Arkwright Bury to display it, which seems odd,” He laughs. “When you think that Briar Priory was so much smaller than Arkwright Bury is.”
“And that’s why you’ve come to see me?” Lettice asks, trying to get Mr. Gifford to explain himself and share his intentions.
“Yes.” Mr. Gifford agrees. “If you’re willing to take it on, I’d love for you to redecorate Cuthbert’s study as a surprise for Adelina. It would make it a happy space to be in, rather than a sad and neglected one.”
“Although that still doesn’t explain the necessity for this.” Lettice half raises the green Morocco leather photo album in her lap with her spare left hand.
“Well, I wanted you to look at the photo of the Pagoda Room because, I thought it had been completely destroyed by the fire, until I started going through Cuthbert’s study. Before it was Cuthbert’s study, it was my father’s study, and my grandfather’s before him. So much Gifford history was lost with the fire that my grandparents didn’t have the heart to try and replicate what they had, and the study was created from part of the shell of the Pagoda Room.”
“How do you know this, Mr. Gifford?”
“Well, do you see that corner cabinet?” Mr. Gifford points to a glass door decorated with delicate fretwork, half hidden in the shadows behind the elaborate floral arrangement on the pedestal. When Lettice affirms with a nod he continues, “Well I didn’t recognise it at first, but this is what my brother, father and grandfather all used as a corner bookcase. It was only when I was doing an inventory of Cuthbert’s books in it, that I suddenly looked at the door, and I recognised it as being the same one from the photograph of the Pagoda Room. So, I took out my penknife******.” He withdraws a small blade with an ebony handle from his pocket. “So useful. I never go anywhere without it being in my pocket, and I took to the red wallpaper just next to the cabinet. I cut away a little, and what do you think I found beneath it, Miss Chetwynd?”
“The Chinese pagoda paper, I presume, Mr. Gifford.” Lettice laughs.
“Just so, Miss Chetwynd!” Mr. Gifford exclaims, bouncing on his seat excitedly. “It’s badly degraded of course, but I thought it would make a splendid backdrop to Adelina’s blue and white porcelain collection!”
“Aah… then I’m very sorry, Mr. Gifford,” Lettice begins to apologise. “But you have wasted your journey up to London from Wiltshire. I’m a redecorator and designer, not a restorer.”
“Oh I know that, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. Gifford replies. “However, I also know from what I read in Mr. Tipping’s******* article in Country Life******** that you are a fine artist. You painted a demilune table********** for Mr. and Mrs. Channon, did you not?”
“I did Mr. Gifford. But what of it?”
“I had rather thought you might paint the design of the pagoda wallpaper from this photograph for me.”
“A demilune table is entirely different to a mural, Mr. Gifford!” Lettice exclaims in horror. “I’m hardly a muralist!”
“Oh I’m sorry, Miss Chetwynd, if I in any way implied that I wanted you to paint a mural.” Mr. Gifford defends raising his hands in concern. “No. I thought that because you have connections with wallpaper manufacturers who produce papers based on individual designs submitted, I was rather hoping you would design a panel of the pagoda wallpaper, which could then be reproduced as wallpaper to hang.”
Lettice ruminates on Mr. Gifford’s idea for a moment. “Well,” she says cautiously. “I suppose I could speak to Jeffrey and Company***********. They do produce bespoke wall hangings. Mind you, to be frank, it isn’t at all inexpensive, Mr. Gifford.”
“Oh I don’t mind, Miss Chetwynd. The Pagoda Room may have been large once, but I can assure you that Cuthbert’s study isn’t a terribly large space. I certainly don’t mind paying the cost to have it papered.”
“Well, I know it’s precious to you, but may I have this photograph then, Mr, Gifford?”
“Of course you may, Miss Chetwynd. Just slip it out of the album.”
As Lettice carefully extracts the old black and white photograph from the album she says. “I can see if I can recreate a design as close to the original as I can make out from this photograph. I take it you can tell me what the colours of it are from the little bit of paper you exposed?”
“I have it here, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. Gifford replies with a sigh, delving into his satchel once more and withdrawing a crumbling piece of paper that shows a small piece of the pagoda door and some roof tiles in French blue and sage green on an ecru background that must once have been white, which he carefully hands over to Lettice with trembling fingers.
“Yes, well. Using this, I could come up with a panel, that once it meets your approval, I can then take to Jeffrey and Company, and see if they are willing to reproduce it, and at what price.”
“Capital, Miss Chetwynd! Capital!” Mr. Gifford enthuses excitedly.
“I’d have to see the room as well, Mr. Gifford.” Lettice says. “To establish the amount of wall space we are discussing to have papered.”
“Are you by chance coming down to Wiltshire to visit your family soon, Miss Chetwynd?” asks Mr. Gifford with a toothy smile.
“As a matter of fact, I am, Mr. Gifford.”
“Then perhaps I could extend an invitation to you, to take tea with my wife and I at Arkwright Bury, whilst you are in residence at Glynes.”
“That sounds splendid, Mr Gifford.”
“Of course, you cannot let on to Adelina about this, Miss Chetwynd. This would be strictly between us. I want this redecoration to be a surprise for her.”
“You are being presumptuous, Mr. Gifford. I haven’t said that I will take you on as my client yet.” Lettice cautions with a wagging finger. “There are many dependencies and counter-dependencies yet to consider. But I will consider your request after I have seen the room for myself.”
“Oh thank you, Miss Chetwynd!” Mr. Gifford replies, clapping his hands in delight.
“I said, consider, Mr. Gifford.” Lettice says again, attempting to temper Mr. Gifford’s enthusiasm.
“Well, thinking of consideration, Miss Chetwynd. I do have one final titbit that might just make you consider my request a little more favourably.” He pauses for affect.
“And what might that be, Mr. Gifford?” Lettice asks with intrigue.
“Well, Mr. Henry Tipping is my godfather.” Mr. Gifford says with a smile that makes him look like the cat who just ate the cream. “And when I mentioned your name to him as a potential candidate for redecorating Cuthbert’s study, he said to me that he would happily consider writing an article on your redecoration of the room for Country Life, if you agreed.”
“Well!” Lettice replies, her expertly shaped eyebrows arching over her glittering blue eyes. “That is an interesting incentive, Mr. Gifford.”
“I thought that might pique your interest, Miss Chetwynd.” Mr. Gifford replies with a satisfied sigh as he settles back in his armchair again.
*Anthony Keck (1726 – 1797) was an Eighteenth Century English architect with an extensive practice in Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, Herefordshire and South Wales. He designed at least fifty country houses in the South-West of England and South Wales.
**The Battle of Ypres was a series of engagements during the First World War, near the Belgian city of Ypres, between the German and the Allied armies (Belgian, French, British Expeditionary Force and Canadian Expeditionary Force). During the five engagements, casualties may have surpassed one million.
***Sir Winston Churchill (30th if November 1874 – 24th of January 1965) was a British statesman, soldier, and writer who twice served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, from 1940 to 1945 during the Second World War, and again from 1951 to 1955. Apart from two years between 1922 and 1924, he was a Member of Parliament from 1900 to 1964 and represented a total of five constituencies. Ideologically an adherent to economic liberalism and imperialism, he was for most of his career a member of the Conservative Party, which he led from 1940 to 1955. He was a member of the Liberal Party from 1904 to 1924. In October 1911, Prime Minister Asquith appointed Churchill First Lord of the Admiralty, and he took up official residence at Admiralty House. He created a naval war staff and, over the next two and a half years, focused on naval preparation, visiting naval stations and dockyards, seeking to improve morale, and scrutinising German naval developments. As First Lord, Churchill was tasked with overseeing Britain's naval effort when the First World War began in August 1914. In the same month, the navy transported 120,000 British troops to France and began a blockade of Germany's North Sea ports. Churchill sent submarines to the Baltic Sea to assist the Russian Navy and he sent the Marine Brigade to Ostend, forcing a reallocation of German troops. In September, Churchill assumed full responsibility for Britain's aerial defence. In May, Asquith agreed under parliamentary pressure to form an all-party coalition government, but the Conservatives' condition of entry was that Churchill must be removed from the Admiralty. Churchill pleaded his case with both Asquith and Conservative leader Bonar Law but had to accept demotion and became Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.
****The term “Flanders Fields”, used after the war to refer to the parts of France where the bloodiest battles of the Great War raged comes from "In Flanders Fields" is a war poem in the form of a rondeau, written during the First World War by Canadian physician Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, written in 1915.
*****Armistice Day or Remembrance Day is a memorial day observed in Commonwealth member states since the end of the First World War to honour armed forces members who have died in the line of duty. It falls on the 11th of November every year. Remembrance Day is marked at eleven o’clock (the time that the armistice was declared) with a minute’s silence to honour the fallen. Following a tradition inaugurated by King George V in 1919, the day is also marked by war remembrances in many non-Commonwealth countries.
******A penknife, or pen knife, is a small folding knife. Today penknife is also the common English term for both a pocketknife, which can have single or multiple blades, and for multi-tools, with additional tools incorporated into the design.
*******Henry Tipping (1855 – 1933) was a French-born British writer on country houses and gardens, garden designer in his own right, and Architectural Editor of the British periodical Country Life for seventeen years between 1907 and 1910 and 1916 and 1933. After his appointment to that position in 1907, he became recognised as one of the leading authorities on the history, architecture, furnishings and gardens of country houses in Britain. In 1927, he became a member of the first committee of the Gardens of England and Wales Scheme, later known as the National Gardens Scheme.
*********Country Life is a British weekly perfect-bound glossy magazine that is a quintessential English magazine founded in 1897, providing readers with a weekly dose of architecture, gardens and interiors. It was based in London at 110 Southwark Street until March 2016, when it became based in Farnborough, Hampshire. The frontispiece of each issue usually features a portrait photograph of a young woman of society, or, on occasion, a man of society.
**********A demilune is a half-moon shaped table that was created and very popular in the Eighteenth Century. With no hard edges or corners and a shallow profile, this type of accent table works well in so many tight spaces. Georgian rooms were often quite small, so they were a useful surface to have in bedrooms, hallways and entryways.
***********Jeffrey and Company was an English producer of fine wallpapers that operated between 1836 and the mid 1930s. Based at 64 Essex Road in London, the firm worked with a variety of designers who were active in the aesthetic and arts and crafts movements, such as E.W. Godwin, William Morris, and Walter Crane. Jeffrey and Company’s success is often credited to Metford Warner, who became the company’s chief proprietor in 1871. Under his direction the firm became one of the most lucrative and influential wallpaper manufacturers in Europe. The company clarified that wallpaper should not be reserved for use solely in mansions, but should be available for rooms in the homes of the emerging upper-middle class.
This may look like an old photograph taken in the Victorian era and inserted into a photograph album, affixed with corners, but it is in fact a photograph made up completely of pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including pieces from my teenage years, which has then been post produced as an old black and white photograph.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The embroidery frame, which features a partially completed embroidery, complete with a 1:12 miniature needle inserted into it was made by Falcon Miniatures, who are known for their detail in relation to their miniature pieces. I acquired it from Doreen Jeffrey’s Small Wonders Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The sewing basket sitting next to it on the overstuffed sofa is a 1:12 artisan miniature which I have had since I was a teenager. I acquired it from a high street dolls’ house and miniatures supplier and it is amongst my very first artisan pieces I purchased.
The silver tea set on the pedestal table, consisting of milk jug, sugar bowl and teapot come from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The silver tray upon which they stand also comes from Warwick Miniatures. The two dainty floral teacups with gilt edging are part of a larger tea set that I acquired from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.
The books on the table, by the slipper chair and on the sofa in the forefront of the picture are 1:12 size miniatures made by the British miniature artisan Ken Blythe. Most of the books I own that he has made may be opened to reveal authentic printed interiors. In some cases, you can even read the words, depending upon the size of the print! I have quite a large representation of Ken Blythe’s work in my collection, but so little of his real artistry is seen because the books that he specialised in making are usually closed, sitting on shelves or closed on desks and table surfaces. These books are amongst the rarer exceptions that have been designed not to be opened. Nevertheless, the covers are copies of real Victorian bindings. What might amaze you even more is that all Ken Blythe’s books and magazines are authentically replicated 1:12 scale miniatures of real volumes. To create something so authentic to the original in such detail and so clearly, really does make this a miniature artisan piece. Ken Blythe’s work is highly sought after by miniaturists around the world today and command high prices at auction for such tiny pieces, particularly now that he is no longer alive. I was fortunate enough to acquire pieces from Ken Blythe prior to his death about four years ago, as well as through his estate via his daughter and son-in-law. His legacy will live on with me and in my photography which I hope will please his daughter.
The overstuffed white settee and matching slipper chair, the two pedestal tables, the demilune table upon which the three vases sit, the three vases themselves, the corner cabinet and the china inside it, the hand embroidered footstool in front of the slipper chair, the two pillows on the sofa in the foreground, the paintings on the walls the extravagant floral arrangement and the two matching ornamental Victorian pillars I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The hand painted oriental ginger jar on the pedestal in the background next to the corner cabinet I acquired from Melody Jane’s Doll House Suppliers in the United Kingdom.
The floral sofa in the foreground I obtained from Crooked Mile Cottage Miniatures in the United States.
The oriental rug is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug and has been machine woven. The wallpaper is an Eighteenth Century chinoiserie design of pagodas and would have been hand painted in its original form.
Model: Volvo FH 420 Euro6 6X2 (FH4)
VIN: YV2RTW0C8GA795773
1. Registration: 2016-10-25
Company: Halm 80, Skalkendrup, Nyborg (DK)
Fleet No.: -
Nickname: -
License plates: BD88616 (oct. 2016-?)
Previous reg.: n/a
Later reg.: n/a
Retirement age: still active nov. 2018
Photo location: Motorway 501 (Aarhus Syd Motorvejen), Viby J, Aarhus, DK
Halm means hay/straw, and that's exactly what the company works with. The truck is a standard rigid 6X2 flatbed with a two-axle trailer attached to get one long bed for bale transport.
Going up the steep hill leading sw out of Aarhus past Viby and Stautrup. Underpowered and/or heavily loaded trucks often struggle here.
Tip: to locate trucks of particular interest to you, check my collections page, "truck collection" (www.flickr.com/photos/lavulv/collections/72157684190396672/ ) - here you will find all trucks organized in albums, by haulier (with zip-codes), year, brand and country.
Retirement age for trucks: many used trucks are offered for sale on international markets. If sold to a foreign buyer, this will not be listed in the danish motor registry, so a "retired" truck may or may not have been exported. In other words, the "retirement age" only shows the age, at which the truck stopped running on danish license plates.
The original shot is offered by Martian Haemoglobin x....For Act III ....Many thanks;)))...
www.flickr.com/photos/martianhaemoglobin/
How time will heal
Make me forget
You promised me
Time will heal
Make me forget
You promised me
Love will save us all
And time will heal
You promised me...
How love will save
Make me forget
You promised me
Love will save
Make me forget
You promised me
Time will heal us all
And love will save
You promised me...
I trusted you
I wanted your words
Believed in you
I needed your words
Time will heal
make me forget
And love will save us all
You promised me another wish
Another way
You promised me another dream
Another day
You promised me another time
You promised me another life
You promised me..
So I swallowed the shame and I waited
I buried the blame and I waited
Choked back years of memories...
I pushed down the pain and I waited
Trying to forget...
You promised me another wish
Another way
You promised me another dream
Another day
You promised me another time
You promised me...
Another lie
Oh you promised me...
You promised me... You promised me...
And I waited... And I waited... And I waited...
And I'm still waiting...
www.deezer.com/listen-953727 - The Cure - The Promise
Guilin | Guangxi | China
Reed Flute Cave in Guilin, a natural underground chamber full of stalactites and stalagmites formed over millions of years. It offers a magic land of stone pillars, stone curtains, birds, plants and animals in fantastic shapes and colors.
It was a welcome respite from the incredibly high humidity outside. It was soo much cooler in the caves!
ISO 5600 | f/4 | 1/60
In a bid to follow my own style a little more this year, I'm going to post a series of portraits that I've processed onto black. These were mostly shot with this kind of post-processing in mind, and the processing is done entirely within Lightroom.
They're not everyone's cup of tea, but I can't be all things to all men. I like them, and it's a style I want to keep practising.
They're not all perfect either - Some work better than others. But I'm still going to post them all the same, as I'm keen to keep sharing whatever I'm working on.
Any feedback is welcome of course, as I'm always pleased to hear which are most popular with the big wide world out there. And if you can offer advice to improve them, that's equally welcome too.
I've already got a few like this on flickr, so I've made a little set to keep them together.
More to follow in the next few weeks...
Milang and the Murray River Boat Trade.
In 1853 the governor of SA offered a reward of £4,000 to the first river steam boat to navigate the Murray to Wentworth and beyond. Captain Francis Cadell working with William Younghusband, a close friend of the governor received the prize although Captain William Randell of Mannum reached Wentworth in his steam boat at the same time. Cadell had named his boat after the wife of the Governor, the Lady Augusta and the Governor and a small party travelled on Captain Cadell’s boat. After this financial boost Cadell went on to establish the River Murray Navigation Company based in Goolwa. Randell established his own shipping line based in Mannum. The river trade began in earnest in 1854. The prize was intercolonial transportation of goods into western NSW and southern Qld via the Darling River from Wentworth. In the 1850s there was almost no settlement in SA along the river so the money to be made was in NSW and the upper reaches of the Murray in Victoria. Randell transported flour to Echuca, for example, for overland transport from Echuca to the goldfields at Bendigo. The early river steamers and barges were manufactured along the Murray and the lakes, often at Goolwa or Mannum or in Milang. Wool was the staple product shipped down the river from NSW and the return trips took up flour, sugar, tea, pianos, furniture, engines or whatever outback stations needed. Customs duties were due at the SA/NSW/Vic border and the Qld border. Milang established a niche role for itself in the riverboat trade; it made steamers and barges, provided captains and skilled navigators and handled the bulk of supplies going up to NSW as Milang was the closest and easiest river port to Adelaide. Duranda Terrace in Milang handled 50 to 60% of all SA exports up the river. Merchants flourished here and Landseers established a large wool handling and warehousing business with offices in Morgan, Murray Bridge, Goolwa, Wentworth, Wilcannia and Mildura. But their headquarters were in Milang.
Albert Landseer the company founder was born in England in 1829 and was a cousin to the famous British landscape painter of the same surname. Albert studied sculpture himself but gave it up to immigrate to SA. He became the agent for Captain Cadell of Goolwa in 1856 and from that contract he expanded his business all along the river. He had ten children with his first wife and six with his second. He controlled almost all the trade through Milang and was known as the “Duke of Milang.” His business partner who contributed financial support was William Dunk. Albert Landseer died in 1906 as the river trade was starting to reduce. Landseer contributed to the district by becoming a member of parliament and was a popular local identify. Alas his four storey stone flour mill and three storey warehouse in Duranda Terrace were both demolished a long time ago. (His impressive wool store in Morgan still stands.) Landseer’s flour mill operated from around 1870 to 1890 replacing the Pavy flour mill that was established in Milang in the 1850s to supply flour for the riverboat trade. The heyday of the riverboat trade was in the 19th century. Before any railways reached western NSW almost all trade was carried on the river through SA. Railways reached western NSW and upper Victoria in the 1880s. But the river trade persisted as so many stations were situated right on the banks of the Darling River and so river transport was the easiest and cheapest right into the middle 1920s. The first jetty was constructed in Milang in 1856 to get the river trade going. It was increased in length in 1859 and again in 1869 until it was 217 metres (711 feet) long. A tram track took cargo to the end of the jetty. The great Murray flood of 1956 saw half the jetty washed away.
Although much of the river boat trade died away in the 1920s some services continued, especially the local steamer service across Lake Alexandrina. Once the railway from Adelaide reached Milang in 1884 a service was started to connect with the trains to take passenger and freight across the lakes to Poltalloch station, Meningie and from there overland through the Coorong to the South East and Melbourne. The paddle steamer Dispatch plied this route from 1877 between Milang and Meningie. After 1884 other vessels were also used on this route. Trade declined considerably in Milang itself after 1878 when the SA railway reached Morgan. It then became the major river port, rather than Milang.
Because of the river trade Milang had a thriving boat building industry. George Ross established engineering works in Milang and then branched out into boats. Ross’ major competitor was Frank Potts of Langhorne Creek who built his boats in Milang too. Potts built many of the boats used by Landseer’s company. The last boat built for Landseer was the Marion in 1897. This is the paddle steamer now in the Museum at Mannum. Another well known boat builder in Milang was C.H.F. Kruse. The register of steamers built in Milang lists:
1857The Enterprise.
1872 The Ponkaree.
1873Landseer’s floating dry dock was built and then later sold on to William Randell at Mannum in 1876.
1875The Wilcannia.
1876The Annie and the Bourke.
1877The Avoca and the Dispatch.
1878The Milang, the Elsie, the John Hart and the Victor.
1880The Mary Ann (second steamer of this name).
1891The Ada and Clara. (This was financed by the Bowmans for the lake crossing to Poltalloch Station.)
1892The Advance and the Retreat.
1897The Agnostic, the Marion and the Tarella.
1898The Etona (used by the Anglican Church for services along the Murray from Murray Bridge to Renmark.)
1911The Elsie (second steamer of this name).
Although the river trade was starting to die off in the early 20th century in 1902 the lock system was agreed upon by the states. It was mainly built to provide a constant river level free from snags in the Murray. The locks were also to control river flows in times of drought and keep the Murray navigable. The first Murray River lock was started in 1915 and finished at Blanchetown in 1922. It took another 20 years for the remaining 25 locks along the river to Albury to be completed. The final stage of this project really was the construction of the five barrages to prevent salt water from entering the lakes and Murray River. They were completed in 1940.
A Brief History of Milang.
The settlers of Strathalbyn were anxious to have a port near their town especially after the Wheal Ellen mine began operations in 1857. In August 1853 Captains Cadell and Randell had proved the viability of river trade. In light of this the Surveyor General Arthur Freeling ordered a township to be laid out on the shores of Lake Alexandrina near where the Bremer and Angas rivers enter the lake. A site was selected on high ground away from both river mouths. Milang was laid out by January 1854. The town had a grid pattern, like Adelaide surrounded by parklands on three sides and the lake on the other. Blocks must have sold quickly as in 1857 a private development was laid out beyond the parklands by Dr Rankine of Strathalbyn. The town name was selected from a local Aboriginal word “Millangk” which meant place of sorcery and magic. Some might argue that Milang is still a magical place!
Among the purchasers of the first town lots, as was to be the case in Langhorne Creek too, were the elite of Strathalbyn- the Gollans, Stirlings, Dawsons etc. Other pioneers of Milang were the Landseer family and G Chalken. Chalken owned the Lake Hotel, established in 1856 in a side street. The Pier Hotel facing the lake was built in 1857 and still stands. Landseer soon opened a general store and Post Office. He bought machinery from the original Pavy flour mill and built a new one in 1871. Around this time he also erected a large wool store and other warehouses along Duranda Terrace making him the main businessman in town. Milang blossomed overnight on the expectation of successful river trading. A South Australian Register newspaper article in 1857 described the new town thus: “Milang is becoming a very bustling little port and will shortly grow into a place of importance. Already it has two inns, a steam mill, a store of some extent, a chapel in the course of erection, a timber yard and a jetty on which there were lying on Tuesday the Symmetry twenty five tons, the Blue Jacket five tons and the Enterprise eight tons. There are now about one hundred and ten souls in the township and several hundred settlers within a radius of two or three miles. Cultivation is progressing extensively and wheat and flour are continuously shipped, and also silver and lead from Strathalbyn and the Wheal Ellen mines.” Alas Milang is no longer a bustling port or town!
As with most other towns the first public structures were the two hotels and the early school room in 1856. This purpose built school is still in use. The first church erected was the Church of Christ in Coxe Street in 1857. This church was enlarged in 1899 and again in 1901. By 1866 Milang had two further churches the Primitive Methodist erected in 1866 in Chapel Street and the Congregational Church erected in 1862 in Stephenson Street. The Congregational Church originally had a thatched roof and it is now the Uniting Church. The Anglican Church was not built until 1911 and its completion was financially assisted by the Dunk family. Before then Anglican services were conducted in the Institute building. Mrs Landseer laid the foundation stone of the Institute in January 1884. James Rankine of Strathalbyn opened the Institute later that year. By 1890 it was free of debt and in 1917 further additions were made to it. A District Council was formed in Milang in 1855 and the first meetings were held in nearby Belvedere. A police station opened in Milang in 1865 but Milang began to slide backwards shortly after that. The tramway to Strathalbyn in 1869 bypassed Milang despite pleas for it to travel via Milang. However they did get a rail line in 1884 to link with the Adelaide line at Sandergrove. In 1893 a butter factory opened in Milang, the Lakeside Butter Factory which exported local butter to England. It closed in 1915. It re-opened some time later and was still operating in the 1930s. The infamous shacks along the lake foreshore were built around 1948. The Milang Progress Association controlled the area until the local Council resumed control in 1967. Despite government threats to their existence the shack owners have had several reprieves and they are still there.
LBJ Presidential Library volunteer Leah Angers of Austin points to the name of her brother, Army Specialist 4 William "Billy" Smith who died in the Vietnam War on March 24, 1971. His name is displayed on "The Wall That Heals,” a half-scale replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., on display on the plaza outside the LBJ Presidential Library. Angers' other brother, Robert "Bobby" Smith, also served in Vietnam and died in 2004 as a result of injuries he suffered there. “The Wall That Heals” is offered by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund so local communities and Vietnam veterans can experience the memorial to the fallen, which lists 58,307 names. The Wall will be on display 24/7 from Friday, April 22 through Thursday, April 28 as part of a Vietnam War Summit event at the LBJ Presidential Library.
LBJ Library photo by Jay Godwin 04/26/2016.
All images available for licensing via me. I offer commercial and editorial pet photography on a commissioned basis. And with a pet picture database with thousands of hand-picked images of dogs, cats, as well as horses, I might already have what you are looking for. All pictures here can be licensed.
For licensing and commission requests: info{at}elkevogelsang.com -
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All images available for licensing via me. I offer commercial and editorial pet photography on a commissioned basis. And with a pet picture database with thousands of hand-picked images of dogs, cats, as well as horses, I might already have what you are looking for. All pictures here can be licensed.
For licensing and commission requests: info{at}elkevogelsang.com -
FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE
© Elke Vogelsang
20250807_Toffee_TheCoverSession_8
licensing dog images
licensing dog photos
licensing dog photo
licensing pet photos
licensing pet photos
stock images of pets
stock images of dogs
commercial dog photographer
commercial pet photographer
commercial dog photography
commercial pet photography
commercial dog photograph
commercial pet photograph
commercial dog photographs
commercial pet photographs
studio dog photograph
studio dog photography
studio dog photographs
studio pet photograph
studio pet photography
studio pet photographs
license images of dogs
license images of pets
commercial license
commercial licenses
commercial licenses for dog photos
commercial licenses for dog photos
buy commercial license for dog photos
buy commercial license for dog photo
buy commercial license for pet photos
buy commercial license for pet photo
commercial licenses for pet photos
commercial licenses for pet photo
pet image archive
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stock photos of dogs
stock photos of pets
buy dog photos
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A 5.ª edição da revista “Casar
na Madeira” chegou!!!
“Casar na Madeira” podese
orgulhar das atividades
desenvolvidas, ao longo destes
cinco anos, na categoria de
revista de Noivas.
No ano 2013, destacamos
o papel preponderante das
nossas imagens e artigos,
dos serviços/produtos na
realização de casamentos de
qualidade na ilha da Madeira.
Agradecemos a todos noivos
que tiveram “Casar na Madeira”
como ponto de referência nos
preparativos do seu matrimónio
na Madeira, constituindo uma
legítima oportunidade para os
noivos partilharem os mesmos
sonhos. Assim, 5.ª edição da
Casar na Madeira contínua a valorizar a criatividade e qualidade
dos serviços e produtos regionais, que urgem espontaneamente
neste projeto, com propostas cada vez mais requintadas. Com
o principal intuito de prestar os melhores serviços, atendendo
às necessidades dos nossos noivos, de modo a superar suas
expectativas, reunimos o que há de novidades e inovações no
mercado madeirense, tradição e cultura, com várias sugestões
para os leitores, exibindo uma leitura agradável, acompanhada de
magníficas ilustrações dos sublimes cenários urbanos e naturais
que temos para oferecer aos noivos que elegem a Madeira para
casar. Mesmo os noivos mais inusitados, encontram, ao folhear
as páginas da “Casar na Madeira”, várias propostas clamorosas,
ostentando soluções perfeitas, indispensáveis para transformar
os seus sonhos em realidade.
Muitos, serviços e produtos, inspiram-se nas nossas tradições,
com um valor inestimável para a promoção da Madeira como
destino ideal para realização de casamentos.
Sem dúvida, nestes últimos anos, confirmou-se um feedback
positivo nos vários sectores empresariais madeirenses,
vicissitude corroborada pelas empresas que investiram, na
publicidade na revista “Casar na Madeira”, aos quais estamos
agradecidos, só assim este projecto tem sido possível.
Por fim, não poderíamos de deixar de mencionar a capa com
a Lícinia Macedo e o vestido do estilista madeirense Hugo
Santos. Todas as novidades encontram-se no site www.
casarnamadeira.com
Perante o citado, não deixe de adquirir e/ou consultar a “Casar
na Madeira”, revista que se tornou a publicação indispensável
para os noivos, referenciando aos profissionais de qualidade da
região da Madeira, quando o assunto é casamento.
Votos de boa leitura!!!
The fifth (5ª) edition of the magazine “Casar na Madeira” is here!
The magazine “Casar na Madeira” can be proud of the activities
it developed during the past five years in the category of bridal
magazines.
In the year 2013 we highlight the leading role of our images and
articles, of the
services/products in the realization of quality weddings in
Madeira.
We want to thank to all the couples that were in “Casar na
Madeira” as a reference point in the preparations of their
wedding in Madeira, constituting an opportunity for other couples
to share the same dreams.
This way the 5th edition of “Casar na Madeira” still values the
creativity and quality of the services and regional products that
appear spontaneously in this project with the finest proposals.
Are main goal is to pay the best services, attending the needs of
the couples that want to get married, we want to overcome their
expectations, gathering the innovations and news of the Island
market, the tradition and culture it has.
We give the readers suggestions, displaying a pleasant reading
with magnificent illustrations of the natural urban scenes we
have to offer the couples that choose this fantastic Island to get
married. Even for couples that like unusual ideas, we have the
perfect solutions, indispensable techniques to turn your dreams
into reality.
Lots of product and services are inspired by our traditions, with
precious value on the promotion of our Island as the perfect
destination for weddings.
Without any doubt these past years we have confirmed a positive
feedback from several business sectors that invested on this
project “Casar na Madeira” here in the Island, we want to thank
them, none of this was possible without their support.
Last but not least we want to thank Lícinia Macedo for being in
the cover of the magazine and Hugo Santos the stylist that made
the beautiful dress she is wearing.
All the news is in our Website: www.casarnamadeira.com;
Purchase and consult the magazine that become an indispensable
production for all couples that want to get married, we have the
ideas and advices. We also mention the high quality professionals
we have here in the Island when it comes to weddings.
Enjoy your reading!
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Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we have headed south-west across London, away from Cavendish Mews and Mayfair, over Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens to the comfortably affluent Kensington High Street. Here, amidst the two and three storey buildings that line either side of the street, Edith, Lettice’s maid, walks amidst the other pedestrians with purpose. Dressed in her three-quarter length black coat which she bought from a Petticoat Lane* second-hand clothes stall and remodelled herself, and wearing the black straw cloche decorated with purple satin roses and black feathers she picked up from Mrs. Minkin’s - a Whitechapel haberdasher recommended by Lettice’s char**, Mrs. Boothby – she tries to blend in with the other affluent local women on pleasant pre-Christmas shopping outings. However, if she is concerned about how fashionably she is dressed, no-one else around her seems to give it a thought. Christmas is not far away now, with only a few weeks until Christmas Day, and signs of festive cheer abound with bright and gaudy tinsel*** garlands and stars cut from metallic paper hanging in shop windows on either side of the busy thoroughfare. The windows themselves are full of the latest fashions, toys and gadgets for the ladies of Kensington to choose their perfect Christmas gifts from. The shops are busy, and the pavement is crowded with meandering shoppers and window shoppers alike. Yet as her heels clip along the footpath, Edith has no time to tarry admiring window displays. She has an important errand to run in Kensington on her Wednesday off before heading north to the working-class London suburb of Harlesden, where she will pay her usual weekly visit to her parents.
Finally Edith reaches the splendid blue and white tile decorated façade she has been walking brusquely towards. Stylised and elegant gilt lettering on the windows to either side of the central double doors reads: ‘Langham’s – meat, fish, poultry, game and ice’. She peers through the large plate glass window at the splendid Christmas fare on display. A huge turkey sits in pride of place on a large silver platter, decorated with ornamental feathers and surrounded by greenery and raw vegetables. She sighs and walks quickly through the door of the butcher’s shop. The shop bell releases a cheery tingle as the wood and glass door closes behind her, shutting out the constant chugging of the engines of passing traffic and red double-decker London motorbuses, and the burble of human traffic passing by, and enveloping her in serene silence. Edith closes her eyes for a moment before opening them again. As her eyes adjust to being indoors the now familiar layout of the butcher’s shop emerges. Edith remembers with awkward embarrassment the first time Frank had brought her into Mr. Langham’s butcher’s shop and how intimidated she was by it. Unlike Mr. Chapman’s, the local butcher’s shop in Harlesden where she grew up, which has a warm and cosy feel to it, Mr. Langham’s establishment is spacious, stylish all about show. The floors are tiled in luxurious black and white chequered linoleum, just like the kitchen floor at Cavendish Mews, with not a wood shaving**** in sight, as most of the butchering is done by Mr. Langham and his sons out of sight of customers in a back room. The walls are lined from floor to ceiling with white tiles with a few bands of decorative green ones, and hung with brightly painted metal signs advertising condiments. Rather than a wooden counter like Mr. Chapman’s, which encouraged shoppers to lean in and tarry for a gossip, Mr. Langham’s counter is made of panelled glass and filled with the most wonderful displays of meat, fish and poultry. Yet as soon as Frank introduced Edith to his friend Percy, dressed in a uniform of a navy blue vest and a blue and white striped apron just like Mr. Chapman’s, her nerves fell away. He smiled at her broadly and welcomed her warmly, even if she was most likely the only girl from Harlesden ever to be served by him in his establishment. A mature, rather portly man with a jolly disposition to match his apple cheeks, Mr. Langham was delighted to meet his friend Frank’s young lady, and was only too happy to be of service to her once Frank explained what Edith’s plans were. And ever since then, a fortnightly ritual had occurred where she visited Mr. Langham before going on to see her parents on her Wednesdays off.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite maid from Mayfair!” Mr. Langham remarks with his usual smile and easy manner from behind the counter as he sees Edith walk through the door.
“Oh Mr. Langham!” Edith blushes at his compliment. “You do know how to make a maid feel like a lady!”
“Come to get away from the Christmas rush out there then, have you, Miss Watsford?” the butcher chortles as he carefully adjusts the position of a fat turkey on a white raised platter on his counter, fussing over several large feathers used to decorate it until they fan out perfectly.
“Oh yes,” remarks Edith with a timid chuckle. “It’s so busy out there this week.”
“Never get between a Kensington housewife and her Christmas shopping, Miss Watsford.” Mr. Langham says jovially. “That’s my advice.”
“And very wise and welcome it is too, Mr. Langham.” Edith replies with a sigh as she walks up to the counter.
Over the ensuing months since Frank first brought her to Mr. Langham’s butcher’s shop in Kensington, Edith has discovered, much to her delight, that whilst it might be glass and used for the successful display and promotion of his fare, Mr. Langham’s counter is every bit as welcoming as a place to perch and chat as Mr. Chapman’s is in Harlesden. Edith places her green leather handbag across the glass countertop and hooks her black umbrella over the slightly raised maple edging and she leans in to peer at what lies under the glass. Trays of fat sausages and rich beef mince sit alongside steaks and chops, whilst a whole boar’s head with an apple stuck in his mouth peers back at her from another raised platter with squinted eyes and a broad smile.
“Fancy having that sitting in the middle of your Christmas table, Miss Watsford?” the butcher says in an ebullient voice, noting where Edith’s eyes have strayed to.
“No fear, Mr. Langham!” Edith replies, holding up her purple glove clad hands in defence. “I’d rather not have my meal looking at me as Dad prepares to carve it!”
“Well,” Mr. Langham says, looking down upon the boar. “He’s destined for a house in Rosary Gardens in Chelsea next week for a pre-Christmas dinner party. Mrs. Phyllida Cavendish is hosting a cocktail party, and he is to be the centre of her light buffet supper. To amuse her guests, he will be sporting a festive Christmas crown that she is making for him,” He sniffs. “Or so I have been told by Mrs. Cavendish several times.”
“That sounds positively frightful, Mr. Langham!” Edith pulls a face.
“Quite so, Miss Watsford.” agrees the butcher. “But then again, Phyllida Cavendish is an artist, so no doubt she and her odd bohemian friends will find some macabre humour in it. Perhaps they shall dance some pagan rights with him in her rear garden after midnight.”
“You do have some odd customers, Mr. Langham.” Edith remarks, clasping at the scarf at her throat.
“Only the ones from bohemian Chelsea.” he replies with a chuckle.
“Well, I think I’ll just stick to a nice old fashioned and succulent turkey from your shop this Christmas, Mr. Langham.”
“Come to pay off the final instalment have you, Miss Watsford?”
“Just as we agreed, Mr. Langham.” Edith nods cheerfully.
“I’ll just go and fetch my accounts book from the office.” he replies as he moves away from Edith, almost gliding across his elegant black and white linoleum floors as befits the owner of this elegant establishment.
As he does, Edith smiles to herself. How surprised her whole family will be when a fine, fat turkey arrives at her home in Harlesden just before Christmas, big enough to feed her parents, her brother – who will be home for Christmas on shore leave, Frank, Frank’s Scottish grandmother Mrs. McTavish and herself, and have leftovers for after Christmas. Christmas in the Watsford household has never been a lean one, even during the Great War with rationing, especially with her father’s canny ability to procure certain foods at a reasonable price, like the smaller turkey he acquired two Christmases ago, and her mother’s ability to make a feast out of anything left laying around her kitchen. However, even with those skills, George and Ada have expressed concerns about being able to feed everyone sufficiently on Christmas Day, even with Mrs. McTavish suphome-madee of her homemade Christmas puddings. Edith had caught her mother looking through old recipe books for imitation foodstuffs to supplement or replace real ones usually used by her at Christmas, and seen her carefully count the housekeeping money, scrimping and saving where she feels she can, to allow for extra expenditures for Christmas. Despite her mother’s refusal to take any of her wages from her, Edith wanted to contribute to Christmas this year especially since it was she who had suggested inviting Frank and his grandmother to Christmas lunch. When Frank mentioned how Mr. Langham was a butcher friend he had, and it was from him that he procured a small roast chicken for he and his grandmother every year, Edith knew immediately how she was going to contribute to Christmas 1923.
“Well, Miss Watsford,” Mr. Langham announces as he returns with her account. “I’m very pleased to accept your final payment for your family’s Christmas turkey. And a fine one he is too, if I may say!”
“Thank you, Mr. Langham. You may.” Edith replies with pride in her voice as she fetches out her small reticule***** from her handbag and counts out the last few shillings payment for the turkey.
“No, thank you, Miss Watsford, for being such a polite and promptly paying customer. I wish more of my customers were like you.”
“Oh I’m sure the likes of Mrs. Cavendish spend far more than I do.” Edith replies, indicating to the boar’s head.
“Oh, Phyllida Cavendish is very good at filling up my account book, but she is far less prompt paying what she owes.” Mr. Langham says with a cocked eyebrow and a knowing look. “No,” the butcher continues cheerfully as he accepts Edith’s shillings and pops them with a clink into his gleaming brass till. “I wish I had a daughter like you. It isn’t every day a daughter buys a turkey for her whole family for Christmas.”
“Well,” Lettice replies, blushing again. “Langham and Sons sounds and looks far more impressive over the front door than Langham and daughter.”
“Be that as it may, I’d give anything for my lads to offer to pay for our Christmas turkey, Miss Watsford, let me assure you!”
“Will you be supplying your own turkey then, Mr. Langham?”
“If not me, then who else, Miss Watsford? Mrs. Langham is expecting a fine turkey this year, and that is what she shall have if I know what’s good for me and want a peaceable festive season.”
“Oh you are a wag, Mr. Langham!” Edith laughs, flapping her hand at the middle-aged butcher. “I’m sure Mrs. Langham is the most charming and delightful wife in Kensington.”
“That she is, Miss Watsford,” agrees the older man. “But if you don’t mind me saying, she isn’t half as pretty as you.”
“Oh Mr. Langham!” Edith puts her hands to her cheeks as she feels the warmth of the colour filling them.
“I know! I know!” Mr. Langham raises his hands in defence. “You’re spoken for. That Frank Leadbetter is a lucky chap, stepping out with a girl as thoughtful and beautiful as you.”
In an effort to change the subject, Edith asks, “So the turkey will be delivered on what day, Mr. Langham?”
“Friday the twenty-third, Miss Watsford,” the butcher replies. “To the address you’ve given me here.” He taps George and Ada’s address in Harlesden on the top of Edith’s account with his grey lead pencil. “When will you tell your Mum?”
“Well, now that it’s paid off, I might tell her today.” Edith contemplates. “I’m off to visit her now. And,” she adds. “If I tell her and Dad today, then Dad won’t go and organise something else in the meantime, like he usually does.”
“Good thinking, Miss Watsford.” Mr. Langham replies cheerily, tapping his nose in a knowing fashion.
“Well, I must be going, Mr. Langham.” Edith announces, taking up her handbag and umbrella from the shop counter. “I have to get over to Harlesden, and that’s no short trip from here.”
“Well, you must take a slice of Mrs. Langham’s Christmas fruit cake for the journey.” the butcher replies, indicating to four thick slices of cake encased in a thick layer of white royal icing sitting on a tray directly below one of his wife’s beautifully decorated Christmas cakes on a raised platter sitting on the counter next to the till.
“Oh I couldn’t possibly, Mr. Langham!” Edith declines vehemently. “They are for your customers to promote your wife’s excellent baking skills. Have you sold many of Mrs. Langham’s Christmas cakes this year?”
“Quite a few as a matter of fact.” he announces proudly. “Certainly enough to have had her baking a few extra cakes in the last few months.” He smiles at Edith. “But at this late stage in the lead up to Christmas, no-one is going to want to buy one of her cakes now. Those slices will only go to the children who visit me with their parents, or go to waste as they dry out sitting there.” He goes on, “And since this will be the last time I see you before Christmas, Miss Watsford, consider it a Christmas present, and a small token of both mine, and my wife’s esteem.”
He picks up the square silver dish and holds it out to Edith.
“Well…” Edith acquiesces hesitantly.
“That’s my girl!” Mr. Langham’s eyes light up. “Take a slice for your Mum too. I’m sure it isn’t every day she gets the treat of a cake baked by someone other than her.”
“Indeed no, Mr. Langham. She taught me how to bake, but even I don’t dare serve her one of my cakes. She’s a seasoned baker is my Mum.”
“Well, so is Mrs. Langham, Miss Watsford.” He smiles broadly. “I’ll just wrap them up in some brown paper and twine. Merry Christmas Miss Watsford.”
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Langham.” Edith answers happily.
*Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
**A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.
***One of the most famous Christmas decorations that people love to use at Christmas is tinsel. You might think that using it is an old tradition and that people in Britain have been adorning their houses with tinsel for a very long time. However that is not actually true. Tinsel is in fact believed to be quite a modern tradition. Whilst the idea of tinsel dates back to Germany in 1610 when wealthy people used real strands of silver to adorn their Christmas trees (also a German invention). Silver was very expensive though, so being able to do this was a sign that you were wealthy. Even though silver looked beautiful and sparkly to begin with, it tarnished quite quickly, meaning it would lose its lovely, bright appearance. Therefore it was swapped for other materials like copper and tin. These metals were also cheaper, so it meant that more people could use them. However, when the Great War started in 1914, metals like copper were needed for the war. Because of this, they couldn't be used for Christmas decorations as much, so a substitute was needed. It was swapped for aluminium, but this was a fire hazard, so it was switched for lead, but that turned out to be poisonous.
****Regardless of where the butchers shop was, whether a suburban or up-market shop or a small concern in a village, the standard practice was to dust the wooden floorboards of the shop behind the counter where the butchering was done with sawdust. The idea was that the sawdust would sop up any spilled blood or dropped offcuts of meat that was easy to sweep away and helped prevent slips.
*****A reticule also known as a ridicule or indispensable, was a type of small handbag or purse, typically having a drawstring and decorated with embroidery or beading, similar to a modern evening bag, used mainly from 1795 to before the Great War.
This smart and stylish upper-class Edwardian butchers is not all it seems to be at first glance, for it is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The dressed turkey on the counter and the stuffed pig’s head and trays of cuts of meat inside the counter come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom. The joints of meat in the background, on the bench, in the meat safe and hanging from hooks above it also come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop.
The cranberry glass footed platter on the counter is made of real, finely spun glass, and comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The beautifully decorated Christmas cake atop it is a 1:12 artisan miniature which also comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures. The slices of fruitcake in front of it on the silver plate is a 1:12 artisan miniature I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom.
To the left of the photo is a food safe. In the days before refrigeration, or when refrigeration was expensive, perishable foods such as meat, butter, milk and eggs were kept in a food safe. Winter was easier than summer to keep food fresh and butter coolers and shallow bowls of cold water were early ways to keep things like milk and butter cool. A food safe was a wooden cupboard with doors and sides open to the air apart from a covering of fine galvinised wire mesh. This allowed the air to circulate while keeping insects out. There was usually an upper and a lower compartment, normally lined with what was known as American cloth, a fabric with a glazed or varnished wipe-clean surface. Refrigerators, like washing machines were American inventions and were not commonplace in even wealthy upper-class households until well after the Second World War.
The shiny metal cash register comes from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in the United Kingdom. The red and black painted scales and weights, I have had since I was a teenager.
Edith’s handbag handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. The black umbrella came from an online stockist of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay.
The advertising signs in the background come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom.
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I revisited this magnificent nature reserve today 10th August 2018, many visitors to our city miss its glorious offerings, thinking all we have to offer is the beach front at the main boulevard , its a pity as this reserve is a short drive from the main tourist area and has its own charm, attraction and wealth of nature on offer, I love it .
Donmouth Local Nature Reserve is a beach site in the historic Old Aberdeen part of the City where the River Don meets the sea.
A great place to see seals and a range of interesting birds. The beach area has changed over time as the river has changed its course. There are lots of interesting plants in the dunes and beach area. Bird hide is an excellent shelter from which to watch the wildlife. The paths run across King Street to the Brig 'o Balgownie., the original bridge in to the City from the North, then down the other side of the river to the sea.
The site was designated a Local Nature Reserve in 1992
Paths are good although wheelchair access to the beach would be difficult as the boardwalk can get covered with sand.
There is plenty of free car parking on the Beach Esplanade and at the car park in Donmouth Road. There are cycle racks on Beach Esplanade
Bridge Of Don has five spans of dressed granite, and rounded cutwaters that carry up to road level to form pedestrian refuges. The spans are 75 feet (23 m), with a rise of 25 feet (7.6 m).
It was widened in 1958-59, from 24 feet (7.3 m), to 66 feet (20 m) by the construction of a new concrete bridge adjacent to the old one.
It now carries four lanes of the A956 road, and is the last bridge on the River Don before it meets the sea. The bridge is just downstream from a substantial island in the river. Around the area of the bridge is the Donmouth Local Nature Reserve, designated as a LNR in 1992.
Near to the bridge are a number of World War II era coastal defences, including a pill box.
Mudflats
Mudflats are formed when fine particles carried downstream by the river are deposited as it slows down before entering the sea, and to a lesser extent by fine particles washed in by the tide. The sand spit at the mouth of the Don provides shelter from the wind and waves allowing this material to build up. The mud flats are a very rich and fertile environment. Despite their rather barren appearance they support a surprisingly diverse invertebrate fauna which includes; worms, molluscs and crustacea. These invertebrates are vitally important to wildfowl and wading birds within the estuary.
Salt marsh
Along the upper shore of the south bank saltmarsh has developed. This habitat would once have been much more extensive prior to the tipping of domestic and other refuse in the area and the formation in 1727 of an artificial embankment to prevent flooding of the river into the Links. This habitat is now reduced to a narrow strip of vegetation along the river margins upstream from the Powis Burn.
The species composition of the salt marsh varies according to the salinity of the water i.e. the proximity to the sea. Close to the Powis Burn this habitat is dominated by reed sweet-grass (Glyceria maxima) with reed canary-grass (Phalaris arundinacea), sea club-rush (Scirpus maritimus), spike-rush (Eleocharis palustris), hemlock water-dropwort (Oenanthe crocata) and common scurvygrass (Chochlearia officinalis).
Further inland reed sweet-grass continues to dominate but hemlock water-dropwort is more abundant with meadowsweet (Filipendula ulmaria) and valarian (Valariana officinalis),
Sand dunes
Sand dunes are found in the more exposed parts of the estuary at the river mouth. Again, this habitat was once much more extensive in this locality with dune grasslands stretching from Aberdeen Beach inland as far as King Street, southwards from the estuary of the Dee, northwards to the Sands of Forvie and beyond. Many of the dunes formed part of Seaton Tip, and following tipping the area was grassed over. Other areas have been formally landscaped to form golf courses or planted with native trees in 2010 to create a new woodland area.
Some remnants of the natural dune flora can be seen in the 'roughs' on the Kings Links golf course and near the mouth of the river.
Above the high water mark, fore dunes with thick clumps of the pioneer grass species including sea lyme grass (Elymus arenarius) and marram grass (Ammophila arenaria) occur. Few other species are able to cope with the shifting sand. The largest area of these young dunes is to the north and west of the headland. Further inland where the dunes are sheltered from the actions of the wind and waves, and soils are more developed, more stable dunes are present supporting a more diverse grassland habitat.
Strand line plants which are able to tolerate occasional coverage by sea water include sea rocket (Cakile maritima), frosted orache (Atriplex laciniata), sea sandwort (Honkenya peploides) and knotgrass (Polygonum aviculare). Bur-reed (Sparganium sp.) has been recorded; presumably washed down by the river.
Marram grass (Ammophila arenaria) and sea lyme grass (Elymus arenarius) dominate the fore dunes. The latter species is not native to this area but appeared in 1802. It is thought to have been unintentionally introduced into the area by fishing boats. For a number of years it remained uncommon but from 1870 onwards it spread rapidly along the coastline (Marren, 1982).
In the more stable dunes red fescue (Festuca rubra), sand sedge (Carex arenaria), yellow rattle (Rhinanthus minor), wild pansy (Viola tricolour), harebell (Campanula rotundifolia), bird's-foot-trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) and lesser meadow-rue (Thalictrum minus) are abundant. Small amounts of kidney vetch (Anthyllis vulneraria), valerian (Valeriana officinalis) and spring vetch (Vicia lathyroides) are present.
Scattered willows (Salix sp.) and sycamore (Acer pseudoplantanus) have seeded into this area. Gorse (Ulex europaeus) scrub has colonised the dunes in some areas and appears to be spreading.
Scrub
This habitat is almost entirely artificial with only the gorse scrub on the inner dunes being a semi-natural habitat. Alder and willow were planted along the south bank of the river in about 1970 and these shrubs are now generally well established. Further shrub planting on the south bank was carried out in 1990.
Willow (Salix sp.) and alder (Alnus glutinosa) were planted in the 1970's along the south bank of the River Don eastwards of the Bridge of Don. The trees to the west of this strip are doing considerably better than those to the east. More recent planting was carried out in 1990 with hawthorn (Crataegus monogyna), blackthorn (Prunus spinosa) elder (Sambucus nigra), goat willow (Salix caprea) and alder.
Underneath the scrub neutral grassland is present with cocksfoot (Dactylis glomerata), false oat-grass (Arrhenatherum elatius), cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), sweet cicely (Myrrhis odorata), hedge woundwort (Stachys sylvatica) and hedge bindweed (Calystegia sepium).
Grassland
Much of the grassland within the reserve is formed on imported soil and is intensively managed. This includes grassland on the north and south sides of the Esplanade. Daffodils are present in the grassland on the north side of the road. On the north bank to the east of the Bridge of Don is rank grassland on a steep south-facing slope. This is unmanaged and contains some patches of scrub.
Rough grassland is present on the headland. This area has been modified by tipping, with rubble to the east and with grass cuttings to the west. The grassland contains a mixture of neutral grassland, dune grassland, ruderal, and introduced garden species. This area attracts flocks of seed eating birds in late summer and autumn.
Improved grassland is present on the headland and along the south bank of the estuary downstream from the bridge of Don. Much of this vegetation has developed on imported soil and contains a high proportion of ruderal species and garden escapes. On the headland, broadleaved dock (Rumex obtusifolius), nettle (Urtica dioica), coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara), spear thistle (Cirsium vulgare), cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris), hemlock (Conium maculatum) and hogweed (Heracleum sphondylium) are abundant. Sweet cicely (Chaerophyllum bulbosum) is widespread and in late summer fills the air with the scent of aniseed.
To the south of the Esplanade the grassland is managed with an annual cut.. The grassland does flood to form pools. Early in the year cuckoo flower (Cardamine pratensis) is common, meadow foxtail (Alopecuris pratensis)is known to occur around the margins of these pools.
Woodland
Semi-mature woodland is present on the steep sided south bank of the river upstream from the Bridge of Don. Most of this woodland has been planted in the mid 1930's though some older oak and elm trees are present. These may be relicts of former woodland cover. The woodland in the reserve is part of a strip of woodland along the River Don corridor which continues upstream from the Brig 'o' Balgownie.
Woodland is present on the south bank upstream from the Bridge of Don.
Much of the woodland consists of even aged stands with willow (Salix sp.), sycamore (Acer pseudoplatanus), ash (Fraxinus excelsior), beech (Fagus sylvatica) and alder (AInus glutinosa). At the top of the slope mature oak (Quercus sp.) and elm (Ulmus glabra) are present. The ground flora contains tufted hair-grass (Deschampsia caespitosa), red campion (Silene dioica), ramsons (Allium ursinum) and lady fern (Athyrium felix-femina) .In a few areas dense shading is caused by the trees and in these areas the ground flora is poor.
On the north bank scattered trees are present, mainly willow and sycamore with some scrub.
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Length: 692 feet
Beam: 106 feet
Draft: 31 feet
Deadweight: 21,132.5 metric tons
Stern ramp capacity: 350 metric tons
Number of decks: 9
Quarter stern opening: 39'4" wide x 20'8" high
Crane capacity: 40 metric tons
Container capacity: l,400 TEU
Oversize cargo space: 104,000 sq. ft.
Automobile capacity: 1,200