View allAll Photos Tagged speculation
Being able to ride the Monorail directly to Magic Kingdom and Epcot is quite awesome. While there was speculation in the past about expanding to the other parks, I don't believe that will be happening, anytime soon at least. What is cool about the Epcot line of the Monorail is that it takes you inside the parks and over Futureworld before looping back around to the station. I always enjoy a good journey on the monorail, do you?
Epcot
Walt Disney World Resort, Florida
Daily Disney Snapshots on Facebook by Cliff
Wang Photography
Institute of Disney Photography has launched a new website. Be sure to check us out at the following link:
People spend most of the time speculation upon what has already happened and what will be in the future. Sometimes it even seems that there are only two time spaces – the past and the future. Now and today – do not exist. But please, don’t think that I’m trying to reproach people with their superfluous love to the past and selfless dreams about the future. I only want to pay attention to the fact how little we think about the present.
Every person perceives the world in his own way. Our experience and memories make us unique. Everyone has his own path and story to tell.
I have a wonderful thing in my hands. A pure relic! There is a photo of my friend’s family from 1904. Can you imagine? 110 years! It is not actually a photo. It is a daguerreotype. Daguerrotypy was created in 1839 by a painter Daguer. Until 1851 it was the only way of practical photography. The process of creating photos was quite complicated. I think you can find the information about it in the internet, if you are interested. I only add that the process included silver copper plate, mercury vapor and sodium thiosulfate.
The objects with history have always been inspiring me. Vintage objects have indescribable charm. They preserve the story. I have a collection of vintage clothing that I use in my photography. Thanks to my friends who supply me with these treasures.When I touch such things I always wonder who was the owner? What was he dreaming of? What is his story?
Vintage objects have unusual scent. I strongly believe that the time smells. It has that very scent that one of my cream vintage dresses possesses.
I believe that everyone has a talent. Everyone has something that can be shared to make this world more beautiful. Each of us has his own story and path. It is a great ability to be able to tell your story. I will try to share mine today.
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For the entire human history there has been speculation about celestial beings visiting our planet. Some believed in benevolent godly entities resembling human form while other cultures depicted the entities as fiendish devils. Just for a moment, speculate that such alien entities might be in a form so different than us that they could be overlooked. Innocuously, they might slowly take over our world, unnoticed and ignored until it was too late to for us to respond . . .
This photo was taken by a Hasselblad 500C medium format film camera and Carl Zeiss Distagon 1:4 f=50mm T* lens with a Hasselblad/63 1xHz-0 drop in filter using Ilford Delta 3200 film, the negative scanned by an Epson Perfection V600 and digitally rendered with Photoshop.
There are quite a few great blue herons nesting at Wakodahatchee Wetlands. The heron on the left stands out from other herons because of the protuberances from his throat and jaw. There has been speculation among us photogs that he had his throat clawed and that caused the protuberance. Last year he was one of the last herons to find a nest. This year he was the only male I witnessed who staked out a nest, began building it, and then attracted a mate. His is not an easy lot and he has earned the nickname of "lonesome George."
This image was made last Tuesday. A heron from another island had flown over to try to cohabit with George's mate but George fought him off, returned to the nest, and had this "eye to eye" bonding moment with his mate.
Interestingly, I was there two days later when George made a trip from his nest to the nest of the attacker. Only the attacker's mate was in the nest, and George proceeded to have his way with her. Interesting behavior, interesting cause and effect.....
The monument has a circular plan and two ramps of stairs, on top of which are the three crosses and from where there is a magnificent panoramic view of Barcelona. There are two lower crosses and a higher one, that of Jesus; one of the crosses ends in the shape of an arrow. The orientation of the crosses indicates the four cardinal points and the one that ends in an arrow points to the sky, which causes speculation about its meaning. The crosses were destroyed in 1936, during the Civil War, and rebuilt in 1939.
Norfolk UK. NWT Hickling Pectoral Sandpiper Juvenile, just dropped in. Maybe travelling from Siberia to America. But that's just speculation from my Collins guide. Very pleased to find it wherever its headed
When GBRf purchased the ex-Colas class 60 fleet there was much speculation as to where they would go. The extra haulage capability would surely see them head to Peak Forest to work heavy stone trains. This might still happen but the first revenue earning workings seem to have been on the Tyne Dock - Lynemouth biomass workings.
In dull conditions 60047 gets a return empties working underway climbing out of Lynemouth towards Woodhorn colliery having brought the loaded train in during the afternoon.
The photo is taken from the embankment of the former Newbiggin-by-the-Sea branch which curves away from the Lynemouth line at this point.
Thankyou Rob for the tip off that the 60 would be on this working!
20th August 2018.
© Stephen Veitch - All rights reserved. Please do not use my images without permission.
Sulphur-bellied Flycatcher in Sonoma County. Spectacular rarity for Northern California. It may be a monsoonal hitchhiker -- speculation, indeed.
Stonehenge is one of the most famous prehistoric monuments in the world. It has been the subject of much speculation and debate, but its true meaning remains a mystery. However, there is no doubt that Stonehenge is a remarkable feat of engineering and a testament to the ingenuity of its builders.
Here are some other facts about Stonehenge:
•The stones are aligned with the summer solstice sunrise and the winter solstice sunset.
•The monument is surrounded by a ditch and bank.
•There are several smaller monuments nearby, including the Cursus and the Avenue.
•Stonehenge is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
•It is estimated that it took about 1,000 years to build Stonehenge (beginning around 3000 BC).
•The exact purpose of Stonehenge is unknown, but it is thought to have been a place of worship, ritual, or astronomical observation.
Stonehenge is a fascinating and mysterious monument that continues to fascinate people today. It is a testament to the ingenuity and engineering skills of its builders, and it is a reminder of the rich history of England.
Taken at Stonehenge, Salisbury Plain, Wiltshire, England
Explore #04 (2024-10-08) - Thank you for stopping by and for your words of encouragement and favorites!
Four burst shots later from the last post, one male queen butterfly had pushed another male queen butterfly off the flower. There is speculation in the literature that male butterflies of some species are territorial for flowers. Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center, Austin, TX. Sony A6000 and E55-210.
Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances
Walt Whitman
Of the terrible doubt of appearances,
Of the uncertainty after all, that we may be deluded,
That may-be reliance and hope are but speculations after all,
That may-be identity beyond the grave is a beautiful fable
only,
May-be the things I perceive, the animals, plants, men, hills,
shining and flowing waters,
The skies of day and night, colors, densities, forms, may-be
these are (as doubtless they are) only apparitions, and
the real something has yet to be known,
(How often they dart out of themselves as if to confound me
and mock me!
How often I think neither I know, nor any man knows,
aught of them,)
May-be seeming to me what they are (as doubtless they
indeed but seem) as from my present point of view, and
might prove (as of course they would) nought of what
they appear, or nought anyhow, from entirely changed
points of view;
To me these and the like of these are curiously answer'd by
my lovers, my dear friends,
When he whom I love travels with me or sits a long while
holding me by the hand,
When the subtle air, the impalpable, the sense that words and
reason hold not, surround us and pervade us,
Then I am charged with untold and untellable wisdom, I am
silent, I require nothing further,
I cannot answer the question of appearances or that of
identity beyond the grave,
But I walk or sit indifferent, I am satisfied,
He ahold of my hand has completely satisfied me.
What is it and where did it come from?
Speculation about this odd-looking relic is rife, ranging from: Being a part of an alien spacecraft, with others concluding that it is a piece of a hyper-space drive unit designed to penetrate the time/space barrier between multi-universes.
Personally, I believe that it is part of an exhaust unit from a fast food restaurant.
Scientist are hard at work to solve the problem!
This photo was taken by a Kowa Super 66 medium format film camera with a Kowa 1:3.5/55mm lens and Kowa L39•3C(UV) ø67 filter using Kodak Portra 400 film, the negative scanned by an Epson Perfection V600 and digitally rendered with Photoshop.
Much speculation as to what happened here. Either one of the local scalawags threw a hand grenade in before making a run for it or a caller dropped a MOAF (Mother Of All Farts) resulting in major structural damage. We'll never know, as all evidence has now been removed.
And yes, that pointy headed shadow does belong to my pointy head.
The hazy mysteries of Ål Hallingdal invites to speculation about the supernatural, indeed - south Norway
Funny example of "well-planned" urban expansion works in a construction-house booming time...
Kodak Portra 160VC
FD Lens 50mm 1.8
I'd like to say Peeps can swim, but observation tells me with their lack of legs, they can float, but not swim. Upon further speculation, cold water causes the sugar to melt, but not the marshmallow. I think boiling water might be a problem.
Ermita de San Bartolomé, Cañón de Rio Lobos, Soria.
La iglesia de San Juan de Otero, ahora dedicada a San Bartolomé, se ubica en el interior del Parque Natural del Cañón del Río Lobos, realmente en el término no municipal denominado: Comunero de San Bartolomé, regentado por los municipios sorianos de: Herrera de Soria, Nafría de Ucero y Ucero en Castilla y León (España); fue construida en el primer cuarto del siglo XIII, cuando el estilo románico daba paso al gótico, transición que quedó plasmada en la obra arquitectónica. Formaba parte de un cenobio templario del que sólo se conserva la capilla.
De su vinculación a la Orden de los Caballeros del Temple no cabe duda. La especulación se genera únicamente en torno a sus antecedentes. En una bula papal de 1170, el papa Alejandro III hace referencia al Monasterio de San Juan de Otero, perteneciente a la diócesis de Osma. Puede que estuviera localizado en el mismo lugar que San Bartolomé y fuese reemplazado por la construcción protogótica que ha perdurado, pero también hay quien apunta la posibilidad de que estuviera situado en el otero donde se asienta el castillo, y que se edificara a la par que éste a mediados del siglo XII. Las ruinas de la pequeña iglesia que subsisten podrían ser, en tal caso, las del primitivo santuario templario.
La iglesia tiene planta de cruz latina, disposición que se acusa ostensiblemente al exterior. Llama la atención la escasa altura del transepto en relación con la de la nave. La cumbre de la bóveda de aquél queda por debajo de la línea de imposta de la bóveda de cañón apuntado de la nave, de tal manera que ambas bóvedas no se intersecan y no dan lugar al establecimiento de una cúpula o un cimborrio sobre el crucero.
Las pilastras de sección rectangular adosadas a los muros exteriores del ábside, así como las que flanquean la portada, y la misma puerta que luce seis arquivoltas muy apuntadas, ponen de manifiesto el momento de transición del románico al gótico en que se edificó esta iglesia.
Merecen ser resaltados los dos rosetones, uno en cada astial del transepto, cuyas celosías evocan influencias musulmanas en la forma del entrelazado que compone una estrella lobulada de cinco puntas. Poseen tres arquivoltas de las que sólo la externa está decorada.
The church of San Juan de Otero, now dedicated to Saint Barthelemy, is located inside the Natural Park River Canyon Lobos, really in no municipality called: Comunero of St. Bartholomew, run by the sorianos municipalities of Herrera Soria Ucero Ucero and Nafría of Castile and Leon (Spain); was built in the first quarter of the thirteenth century, when the Romanesque style gave way to Gothic transition was reflected in the architectural work. It was part of a Templar monastery of which only the chapel remains.
Its link to the Order of the Knights Templar no doubt. Speculation is generated solely around their background. In a papal bull of 1170, Pope Alexander III refers to the Monastery of San Juan de Otero, belonging to the diocese of Osma. Maybe he was located in the same place as San Bartolomé and was replaced by protogótica construction that has endured, but also who points out the possibility that was located on the hill where the castle is located, and which will be built at the same time this mid-twelfth century. The ruins of the small church that could subsist be in such a case, the primitive Templar sanctuary.
The church has a Latin cross, provision is ostensibly accused abroad. Particularly striking is the low height of the transept in relation to the ship. The summit dome that is below the impost of the pointed barrel vault of the nave, so that both vaults do not intersect and do not lead to the establishment of a dome or a dome over the transept.
The pilasters of rectangular section attached to the outer walls of the apse, as well as flanking the doorway, and the door which boasts six archivolts very targeted, reveal the moment of transition from Romanesque to Gothic that this church was built.
They deserve to be highlighted the two rosettes, one in each astial the transept, whose lattices evoke Muslim influences in the form of interlaced comprises a lobed five-pointed star. They have three archivolts of which only the outer is decorated.
After 18 months of speculation, the first of the twenty five Enviro500 deckers finally arrived from Glasgow, heralding the end for over a third of the artic fleet and reintroducing the Bridges name to the 1&2 route as it was known for decades prior to coming the Red Line fifteen years ago.
38218 is seen here at King Street Depot showing off the red based Bridges branding applied to around half of the batch in Glasgow prior to them coming north.
With a number of buses due to have their tax expire after Monday perhaps we may see these in service next week?
2/ With much speculation of courtship circulating between Mlle Vorontsova and Sheremetev (he is rumoured to appear at her music soirée), Yusupov’s event seemed to prove otherwise. Young Graf Yaguzhinsky was quite bold in his advances creating amusement for the other guests (except for her cousin and chaperon Dashkova).
Sheremetev seemed disheartened but not as affected as a lover should be… Perhaps, the courtship rumours are false? The two seemed to engage in pleasant conversation at the dinner table discussing the music program to be featured enthusiastically.
In fact, Vorontsova suggested him to bring his opera protegé Zhemchugova then!
Learn more about our "Royal Treatment" plotline (#21): docs.google.com/presentation/d/11w07wRtM64aT-slNCqxzs_0p8...
Learn more about our "Sheremetev in Love" plotline (#15): docs.google.com/presentation/d/1S1L8JesWESwnS1_1ehXmTyc3k...
Visit us: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Burning%20Embers/159/124/3313
Apply today! goo.gl/forms/OOKPVDMN5V4SBGeT2
Fanad is a peninsula that lies between Lough Swilly and Mulroy Bay on the north coast of County Donegal in Ireland. The origins of the name Fanad are lost in time though there is some speculation that the name derives from an old Gaelic word Fana for "sloping ground".
Attention people using this image for rampant speculation (Brickset), aside from minifigs from existing sets we all already know about, I was not given any information regarding upcoming sets when I created this image. All depictions of as of yet unproduced figures are a by product of my own imagination, and as such, not a factual basis for any speculation or rumors.
"Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross" is an English language nursery rhyme connected with the English town Banbury. It has a Roud Folk Song Index number of 21143.
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes
Alternative version:
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To buy little Johnny a galloping horse;
It trots behind and it ambles before,
And Johnny shall ride till he can ride no more.
The modern rhyme is the best known of a number of verses beginning with the line "Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross", some of which are recorded earlier. These include a verse printed in Tommy Thumb's Pretty Song Book (c. 1744), with the lyrics:
Ride a cock-horse
To Banbury Cross,
To see what Tommy can buy;
A penny white loaf,
A penny white cake,
And a two-penny apple-pie.
A reference in 1725 to 'Now on Cock-horse does he ride' may allude to this or the more famous rhyme, and is the earliest indication we have that they existed. The earliest surviving version of the modern rhyme in Gammer Gurton's Garland or The Nursery Parnassus, printed in London in 1784, differs significantly from modern versions in that the subject is not a fine lady but "an old woman". The version printed in Tommy Thumb's Song Book in America in 1788, which may have been in the original (c. 1744) edition, has the "fine lady", but the next extant version, in The Tom Tit's Song Book (printed in London around 1790), had:
A ring on her finger,
A bonnet of straw,
The strangest old woman
That ever you saw.[2]
The instability of the early recorded lyrics has not prevented considerable speculation about the meaning of the rhyme.
A medieval date had been argued for the rhyme on the grounds that the bells worn on the lady's toes refer to the fashion of wearing bells on the end of shoes in the fifteenth century, but given their absence from so many early versions, this identification is speculative. Similarly, the main Banbury Cross was taken down around 1600, but other crosses were present in the town and, as is often the case, the place may have retained the name, so it is difficult to argue for the antiquity of the rhyme from this fact.
A "cock horse" can mean a high-spirited horse, and the additional horse to assist pulling a cart or carriage up a hill. It can also mean an entire or uncastrated horse. From the mid-sixteenth century it also meant a pretend hobby horse or an adult's knee.
Despite not being present or significantly different in many early versions, the fine lady has been associated with Queen Elizabeth I, Lady Godiva, and Celia Fiennes, whose brother was William Fiennes, 3rd Viscount Saye and Sele (c. 1641-1698) of Broughton Castle, Banbury, on the grounds that the line should be 'To see a Fiennes lady'. There is no corroborative evidence to support any of these cases.
For more information please visit en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ride_a_cock_horse_to_Banbury_Cross and www.rhymes.org.uk/ride_a_cock_horse.htm
Oggetto della cui funzione sono totalmente all'oscuro. An object which function i'm completely unaware of, one out of the many everyday's life "weird" objects , mostly boxes and closets of various sizes made of metal and/or plastic, or pipes made of the same materials, a world of seemingly isignificant things that nevertheless surrounds us and constantly plays a part in the continuum of the environment in which we live and move. Raised railway platform detail. Via Emilia Levante. Bologna 2016
Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation,
To imp the wings of thy high-flying mind,
Mount up aloft through heavenly contemplation,
From this dark world, whose damps the soul so blind,
And, like the native brood of eagles' kind,
On that bright Sun of Glory fix thine eyes,
Clear'd from gross mists of frail infirmities.
From An Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty by Edmund Spenser (1552 - 1599)
Best Viewed Large On Black - Kapiti Island, Kapiti Coast, New Zealand [?]
• Available high res and unframed at tomraven.com
• Prints, Cards and Posters available at RavenRedBubble
Built 1878 at no. 202 Church Street.
"One of Cobourg’s most architecturally exuberant houses, this ‘Tuscan Villa’ house was built for Robert Mulholland, a merchant who made a small fortune in western land and grain speculation." - info from Experience Cobourg.
"Cobourg (/ˈkoʊbɜːrɡ/ KOH-burg) is a town in the Canadian province of Ontario, located in Southern Ontario 95 km (59 mi) east of Toronto and 62 km (39 mi) east of Oshawa. It is the largest town in and seat of Northumberland County. Its nearest neighbour is Port Hope, 7 km (4 mi) to the west. It is located along Highway 401 (exits 472 and 474) and the former Highway 2 (now Northumberland County Road 2). To the south, Cobourg borders Lake Ontario. To the north, east and west, it is surrounded by Hamilton Township.
The land which present-day Cobourg occupies was previously inhabited by Mississauga (Anishinaabe-speaking) peoples. The settlements that make up today's Cobourg were founded by United Empire Loyalists in 1798 within Northumberland County, Home District, Province of Upper Canada. Some of the founding fathers and early settlers were Eliud Nickerson, Joseph Ash, Zacheus Burnham and Asa Allworth Burnham. The Town was originally a group of smaller villages such as Amherst and Hardscrabble, which were later named Hamilton. In 1808 it became the district town for the Newcastle District. It was renamed Cobourg in 1819, in recognition of the marriage of Princess Charlotte Augusta of Wales to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld (later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, who would later become King of Belgium).
By the 1830s, Cobourg had become a regional centre, mostly due to its fine harbour on Lake Ontario. In 1835 the Upper Canada Academy was established in Cobourg by Egerton Ryerson and the Wesleyan Conference of Bishops. On 1 July 1837, Cobourg was officially incorporated as a town. In 1841 the Upper Canada Academy's name was changed to Victoria College. In 1842 Victoria College was granted powers to confer degrees. Victoria College remained in Cobourg until 1892, when it was moved to Toronto and federated with the University of Toronto. In 1842, John Strachan founded the Diocesan Theological Institute in Cobourg, an Anglican seminary that became integrated into the University of Trinity College in Toronto in 1852." - info from Wikipedia.
Late June to early July, 2024 I did my 4th major cycling tour. I cycled from Ottawa to London, Ontario on a convoluted route that passed by Niagara Falls. during this journey I cycled 1,876.26 km and took 21,413 photos. As with my other tours a major focus was old architecture.
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By Farfahinne- manif des mal et des non loges a Paris le samedi 11 Octobre
farfahinne.blogspot.com/2008/10/francemanif-des-mal-et-de...
While there was speculation all weekend about who could be in the nu face lunch one thing we were all certain about was Elyse being the convention doll yet again. Between her being noted as Jason Wu's muse and the reception of the last non Elyse convention doll (the original Karolin) it made total sense for Elyse again.
In truth I've had a hard time warming up to this sculpt and even was determined to part with her instead of pack her initially but as the next week unfolded so did my affection for this doll and before I realized it I actually adored both her look - a miniature recreation that not only is embroidered but has POCKETS! And those earrings aee great - and Elyse herself so I can only feel glad that I kept her now.
Hasselblad 500 C/M
Carl Zeiss Distagon 50mm f/4 C T*
Kodak Ektar 100
Bellini Foto C-41
Scan from negative film
Another late afternoon shot, this time at Thornham on the Norfolk coast. I took a bad picture here many years ago, so it was certainly time to return. :) These intriguing timbers inspire much speculation on-line and in books: Even the County Archaeological Department appears to be bewildered. One suddenly comes across them at the end of a tongue of land - the moment the harbour itself comes into view, having been hidden behind low banks. Despite being popular with walkers and bird-watchers, this feels a lonely, private place and the effect is very striking.
Gresham's law - that "bad money drives out good" - holds true for history. Drivel drives out fact. But, dear reader, this is not an inexplicable enigma, a petrified prehistoric forest or an ancient holy site. Yet it does tell a moderately interesting story :)
In 1786 the River Hun was diverted during land reclamation, entering the sea through a tidal creek at Thornham. This significantly enlarged Thornham Harbour. Two years later, George Hogg, a wealthy Lynn merchant, began commercial development. He built two granaries and a small warehouse. These timbers are the remains of a crude breakwater which protected the granaries on the seaward side. The ramshackle structure remained intact until the 1953 floods, when the buildings - which had long fallen into ruin - were completely swept away.
For a few decades in the early 19th century, the tiny ports of North Norfolk were relatively prosperous. Thornham’s trade - essentially grain out, coal in - was conducted on Billyboys - seagoing sailing barges based in Hull. Shaped just like an old wooden date box, these small craft could handle the shallow, sandy creeks and minute cargoes.
Thornham never stood a chance as a commercial harbour. Silt, railways and the collapsing price of grain doomed the Norfolk coasting trade, which was barely viable by the 1870s. The last Billyboys slipped away with King Edward.
All of which has been largely forgotten. Only these fragments remain.
In many parts of the British Isles stone circles and similar antiquities were “explained” as dancers turned to stone . “The Merry Dancers” are a traditional name for the northern lights and seemed to fit here. The North Sea ethos of this coast is not the least part of its magic.
I’m going to be away for a few days - when I come back I’ll be commenting :) Thank you for your tolerance :)
Thornham Harbour, Norfolk. Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko f2.8 35mm, Kodak T-Max 400, Orange Filter.
The Silken whisper of Flickering Desires
A Chronicle
Adapted from the Final Entry Entitled:
Their Regal Gambit
Subtitled:
While Sherlock Holmes vacationed
The first score had been made, now for the Coup de Grace! So far their little operation had gone as smooth as silk, or in this case, satin. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then Mollie would let her husband know that with the coast clear, freeing him to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping an eye on all evening. The one who was wearing the exquisite necklace of fiery flickering diamonds, just daring someone to expertly slip it away the throat of its unsuspecting owner.
And therein lay the rub, She happily thought….
As Mollie made her way down the quiet corridor to the gentlemen’s smoking lounge, she lovingly played through her mind the series of unfortunate ( or fortunate?) events that had led her and her husband to this place. It had all began with an innocent one named Tabitha…….
Mollies’ Flash back
They had first come across Tabitha at a resort casino deep in the Catskills. Mollie and her husband had been there about three days, scoping out the grounds, and its wealthy clientele. At the casino they both spotted Tabitha at the same time. She was seated at a baccarat table, really standing out in an elegant dress of gold and black striped silk and velvet Her well-toned body displayed numerous pieces of expensive jewelry. A fat little purse dangled, unheeded by her side. Tabitha had held Mollie’s attention mainly due to the strong resemblance she had to herself. Tabitha’s jewelry, a flashy diamond journey style necklace, matching earrings, wide diamond tennis bracelet, and multiple gem encrusted rings, had held Mollies pickpocket husbands’.
Mollie went on to the bar and watched as her husband waited for the seat next to Tabitha to become vacant. Then he sat, asking for chips, while unobtrusively eyeing Tabitha’s bracelet. He began striking up a conversation with Tabitha, finding her to be an easy mark. He soon learned from the chatty girl that she was a divorced, upper executive for a well-known digital arts company servicing the movie industry. It was during this conversation that Tabitha babbled about the upscale, invitation only(you know), black tie formal ball she would be attending in England the next month. Now, as her husband was keeping Tabitha occupied Mollie had walked by the pair, ‘tripping’ into her husband, who palmed off to her , the diamond bracelet which had been ever so subtly slipped from around the unwary Tabatha’s’ wrist. Walking away with the bracelet secured in her purse, Mollie made her way to their small bungalow. Her husband did not break in his conversation with Tabitha; a mark would seldom suspect a friendly person of stealing from her.
Later that evening, Mollie wore the pricy bracelet while mutually admiring it over a bottle of merlot with her husband. They discussed the high-class affair Tabitha had been bragging about. Wistfully, Mollie admitted it was a shame they had not received an invite. Her husband smiled, and pulled a thickly embossed and crested envelope from his pocket. Easily adopting a British accent, he said “The silly little twit was carrying this in her purse!” The envelope revealed a pair of invitations to the Princess’s Jubilee Royal Ball. As the pair continued to empty the bottle of fine merlot, what had started as speculation, turned towards reality, and soon plans had been laid.
As they lay in bed later that night, Mollie turned to her husband, just think about the jewels that will be worn at the English Ball, she shivered with the delightful thoughts. Do you remember the last time we were in England? Mollie looked at her husband slyly, you remember, the Wriggling Whelp Whispering Wisk! She stated teasingly. Mollie knew the quickest way to get her husband’s goat was coming up with silly phrases to describe his more outlandish endeavors. Such phrases like The Tingling Touch Ice Melt, The Slippery Slick Taffeta Pull, The Glossy Gowned Dangling Peel, or her personal favorite, The Ticklish Wedge Clam Dip, never failed to get a response. In this case the response was a brief pillow fight leading into a romantic interlude, ending up with them in bed as they reminisced about the last time they had “visited” England a few years back…..
It had proven a fairly profitable venture with the jewelry alone netting almost 100,000 pounds. It all had culminated quite nicely at one of the posh events they had crashed that final weekend. Their final score had come about from a rambunctious doe eyed Fourteen year old in a shiny dress who had been oblivious to the valuably delicious gold pendent studded with small rubies and emeralds that sparkled ever so invitingly as it swung from her throat. A pair of matching dangling earrings dripped from her ears as she has run around unminded by her elders. Mollie had indignantly stated to her husband that the antique trinkets were simply just too expensive for a child so squirminly young to be trusted with. Her husband then went about the task to prove his wife correct in her statement.
After talking a bit about the English Girls parents reaction to the unsolved disappearance of their daughters ultra-pricey pendent , Mollie came back to the present and asked if the lady in the maroon silk that her husband pointed out the previous evening would be wearing the same jewels to the dance tomorrow night? Or better her husband replied sleepily, good Mollie pronounced, I did like her emeralds.
In Merry Ole England
They had arrived in England several weeks before the Royal Ball and began the preparations.
In an irony of fate, the profit they had realized from poor Tabitha’s bracelet had paid for a large chunk of their little excursion. Keeping his accent, and adding a trim beard, Mollies husband looked radically different from the man Tabitha had encountered. During the weeks following their arrival, the pair had practiced like they always did before undertaking a new venture. But this time it was with a more daring edge, they quite simply could not afford being caught red handed in a foreign country. Mollie assumed her practice the role. That of the richly dressed, well jeweled quarry. Her husband would stalk and attempt to relieve her of a piece of her jewelry as she went about her business, shopping! The idea being that, If he was able to do so without being caught by an obviously aware Mollie, than he should have no problem at the Royal Ball. As it usually happened when they practiced in this manner, her husband did incredibly well. Mollie had had several pieces of jewelry vanish from her person during the week, without her noticing how or when.
The final night of practice Mollie decided to dress to kill. Looking quite devastating in a glossy gold halter and a long brown velvet skirt with gold stiletto heels clicking as she moved. A diamond heart pendant hung down from her neck, swaying provocatively out from between her breasts. A bracelet, similar to Tabitha’s purloined diamonds, was wrapped around her wrist.
She left their penthouse and made her way to the street outside. Some type of festival was going on as she waded through the crowded streets to the nightclub. Her rings sparkled as they kept rhythm with her swaying diamond waterfall earrings. Just daring her husband to make a move for any of them.
Mollie drank and danced the night away with no hide or hair of her husband until she returned late that evening to their apartment. She found him in the hot tub, smirking. She undressed and joined him. Okay, how did u do it she demanded? I felt nothing, no one bumped or brushed against me all evening that I was not aware of. He opened his fist, allowing her heart diamond pendant to dangle freely in front of her. A magician never reveals his tricks my little cat, he purred, as the pendant swayed in a sparkling arch.
Cat was short for “Cat Lady”, a moniker he had placed upon her when she had broken into a sleeping woman’s room and removed the jewels from her gold case, and even managed to slip off a ring she was wearing. The fact that she was passed out in a drunken stupor, still dressed in her long party gown, didn’t count , or so her husband teased.
You should have been a surgeon! , my dear, Mollie exclaimed with pride. Then she leaned towards him, her green eyes gleaming in earnest, time for a real practice run Mon Cherie, she said in dead seriousness. Then Her eyes opened wide, I got it she exclaimed, I’ll call it The Slinking Sneaky Shearing Snag she pronounced joyfully, getting a face full of water in reply to her effort. Okay Cat, let’s get down to business he retorted, I know just the affair. Mollie listened intensively as her Husband described their next plans, derived while eavesdropping on a couple of ladies shopping in a jewelers.
The next weekend (two weeks to the evening before the Royal Ball) Mollie found herself at a quaint upscale wedding reception held in the large gardens of a country church. She was attired in the same bewitching ensemble that she had been wearing on the final night of practice. Her only jewels were a recently acquired pair of sparkly cascading earrings set with emeralds and diamonds. The affair of the plump piqued peacock plucking she had mused while getting dressed. The only other exception was that the long fiery red hair she had inherited from her Irish namesake grandmother had been cut and dyed blond. Blue contacts had also been added to the disguise to hide her vivid green eyes.
They soon targeted an older jewel laden snob at the reception. An older lady , well jeweled, of the arrogant know it all, obey me totally type whom everyone tries to avoid. While Mollie engaged the mark in a mostly one sided conversation(the older ladies) the lady had become so deeply engrossed about talking about herself and her ties with royalty, that she never detected being relieved of a heirloom antique gold chain and jeweled pendent by Mollies husband who had approached her unnoticed from behind.
It was all Mollie could do no to bring attention to it by looking at the wickedly expensive piece as it was slipped up and away from the Dowager’s ruffled heavy satin blouse.
This time it was mollies turn to keep chatting as her husband headed to the door. He had almost made it when two youths ran into him as they scurried away from a rather sullen looking tween girl they had been teasing, and now were in possession of her purse. Mollie stole a look as she saw her husband topple onto the chasing girl. He managed to extracted himself from the girls long slinky gown that she had probably been forced into by an overly conceited mother. He apologized, and left the girl to go after her antagonizes. Later, when Mollie had caught up to him she teased him about his clumsiness. He just smiled, and pulled out from his vest pocket the most exquisitely matched pearls that the youth had been openly displaying from around her throat and wrist at the reception!
They were, most definitely, ready. The fated evening could not come soon enough. But it finally did.
They had had no problem with using the fancy invitations to gain entrance. Security was heavy, as expected, but with a very lax atmosphere. Mollie was wearing the salmon coloured gown she had had especially made for such occasions, her new blond hair style and the blue contacts. In a coup foray of sorts, Mollie wore the pearls that had been taken by her husband during his run in with the sullen girl at the wedding reception. Her husband was wearing his usual tux with a hand tied bowtie. His ruffled sleeves easily moved up and down along his wrists.
Mollie and her husband split up, each spending the first few hours mingling solo, and taking it all in as they thoroughly enjoyed the Ball and all its many stimulating attractions. It had gone smooth as silk. Spending the first few hours prowling while the guests liquored up Mollie scoping out exactly the right candidates. Dangling jewels with easy clasps were everywhere!, it was surprising how the best of jewel makers skimped on the clasps required to keep the expensive pieces in place. Clothing also made a difference. Silks and satins were quiet and slipped easily. Taffeta could be whispery, more of a challenge. Velvet could easily snag as a piece was being lifted. But these were the costliest of materials, and the wearers would logically be wearing the costlier of jewelry.
Mollie and her husband regrouped several hours later, unobtrusively under the pretense of dancing. Gently discussing their plans. They settled on three likely prospects amongst the almost three hundred present. The first was an older spinster type wearing a luxurious dress of embroidered navy silk and displaying jewelry studded with diamonds and sapphires. The second was a middle aged snotty blonde wearing a shamelessly low cut green silk taffeta gown (which Mollie secretly liked)wearing a thick gold bracelet studded with vulgarly large rubies surrounded by a sea of small sparkly diamonds. She was alone, and a heavy drinker. The third was a longshot. A lanky , flighty brunette wearing immensely valuable jewels of blindingly sparkling Diamonds. Her necklace alone was in the upper hundred thousand range, with a clasp that was one of the easiest to coax open. The only problem was that she came with an obviously newlywed husband who doted on her every move. Both were heavy drinkers, and if he would only leave his wife’s side for, say about fifteen minutes, the necklace would be theirs!
They had decided that any one of the three would produce results worth a king’s ransom, appropriately enough, all things considered. The plan was for her husband to take his time selecting the easiest jewel to acquire from amongst the ones the three marks were displaying , make his move, and pass it off to Mollie who would leave forthwith, while her husband stayed a little while longer to make sure everything remained calm before making his exit stage right via the hallway.
As Mollie went to her station, she saw the Blue silken lady, along with her sapphires and diamonds, leaving with a rather unsavory looking male, eyeing her with a look Mollie knew all too well. Mollie decided to follow them, thinking to herself that some women are just prone to being victimized. Good luck with that one Mollie thought unkindly, as she stole one last look at the ladies glistening sapphires, hope he leaves her with something she sarcastically wished wickedly to the couple’s backside as they went out the exit at the end of the hall. One down and out she thought. Then she spied the husband of the newlywed pair heading down the hall towards her with an older, grey bearded man. Getting close she heard them talking about the Gentlemen’s smoking lounge. Mollie decided to give her husband a signal, but when she found him he was already in the arms of the blond. Molly immediately noticed the absence of the jeweled bracelet from his partners’ wrist. She went back to her table. Immediately she was set upon by some drunken snob asking her to dance. She allowed herself to be taken up into his arms. Spending a few unenchanting minutes with Mr. two left feet, before her husband tapped him on the shoulder cutting in. They danced, Mollie placing a hand into his pocket and feeling something cold and metal wrapped her hand around it. Looking him in the eyes she told him about the now unguarded bride, as she palmed the willowy blonde’s bracelet. They decided to go for it, and as the music ended, Mollie made her way to the hall, where she secreted the blondes bracelet safely away
One down, one more to go! An exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be nimbly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer. Now just to make sure the husband of the silken gowned brunette displaying the jewels in question was still safely out of the picture! Then to let her husband know that with the coast clear, he was free to stage his approach of the lady in the long swishing satin gown he had been keeping a drooling eye on all evening. The one wearing the exquisite necklace of flickering diamonds waiting to be so expertly slipped away from the throat of its unsuspecting wearer.
She was able to see the groom in windowed room, the husband and his friend were smoking a pair of long cigars and drinking brandy in large glass snifters. Mollie passed unnoticed as she mad e her way to the ladies powder room. He was still there, only halfway through a long stogie as she passed again on her way back. Neither time was she observed. Mollie mad her way back to the Ballroom. She sat down at one side of the room, once again allowing the sights of so many bejeweled women to soak in. Her husband was dancing with a lady in a flowing red ball gown, jewels sparkling in abundance, not aware of the danger so close at hand, nor that even with her husband and his particular skill set so close to them, that at that moment nothing could be safer from his fingertips. Finally she caught her husband’s eye. Mollie innocently rubbed a finger along the side of her nose, a subtle signal that it was safe for him to precede.
Mollie was now uncharacteristically having butterflies in her stomach; it was a huge gamble, trying to get away with a pair of thefts in this inhospitable atmosphere. She kept second guessing herself, Bird in hand she kept thinking. But the lure was too great, and it was with a heavy sigh of relief when Mollie saw her husband finally kiss the hand of the young bride after their dance. Mollie could see that she was no longer sporting the thin silver necklace and its row of at least two caret diamonds that had been encircling her throat with their rippling flashy brilliance all evening. Molly stayed put, not daring to leave until her husband had brushed by her in passing and made his way out the hallway to the exit. She waited for a long fifteen minutes, then curling her hand around the necklace that had been dropped into her lap as he had passed; she gained the safety of the hallway. Just in time. For coming down the hallway was none other than the lady in the long luxurious gown and now bare throats groom and his distinguished looking friend. She passed by them, feeling the men eyeing her with roving wolfish gazes. Then she passed them, and proceeded unhindered to once again enter the ladies’ powder room where the necklace soon joined with the Blondes bracelet in its hiding spot.. Than calmly Mollie left, walking past two security Bobbies, virtually unnoticed. The Groom had been absolutely ignorant to the fact that his young Bride’s ridiculously valuable necklace had walked right past him out the door.
Mollie did not let herself really breathe until she had gained the safety of the street. She allowed herself to imagine the commotion as the news of the missing jewels were circulated around the cavernous Ballroom. There would be a flurry of activity, flashes and sparkles as the women checked themselves reassuringly that they were still in possession of their trinkets. Mollie would have loved to have stayed and watched, but obviously could not do so. She rejoined her husband at their meeting place and they drove off. They made their way to Ireland where they spent a cautious week touring before leaving for the states.
Once the profit was realized from their haul that eventful evening, including obnoxious Dowagers the jeweled antique pendent, and was added in to the modest amount they had already accumulated from previous adventures, Mollie and her husband were able to retire to Ireland and live quite an unpretentious life together in a small stone manor in the woods.
Courtesy of Chatwick University Archives
Discovery of another planet that might support life has given rise to speculation about intelligent life elsewhere in the universe – and whether such lifeforms would need the Gospel. But “if there is intelligent life on other planets, we definitely need to tell them Earth’s Gospel story and learn what their history is,” Nettles told Baptist Press in written comments.
mbcpathway.com/2016/09/25/intergalactic-missions/
Photo used with permission; however, reproduction is prohibited. For more information on this photograph, please email kennymccune@mobaptist.org.
The story below has it threads from a daydream I had on our way home to wales, two days after our family attended a formal do in Scotland.
My twin brother and I were just 16.
Mum had me dressed up in a brown satin gown that mimicked her green one.
I was wearing rhinestone jewellery.
Mum was wearing her expensive diamond earrings, which I alone felt received far too much attention from strangers. Or was I just jealous?
Then I had the unsettling experience of my fancy rhinestone bracelet vanishing from my wrist under, what I alone had felt, were suspicious circumstances.
But thoughts like that are what goes with the territory of the pickpocketing games my twin brother and I like to role-play at home.
Though my bracelet was found and returned the next day, the events at the posh dance in Scotland, added with the vivid circumstances of what I dreamed that evening the night I lost it, along with my speculation over what caused my bracelet’s loss, remained firmly entrenched in my imagination.
And yes, at the dance, there was one sly-eyed lady who attached herself to our family. A far too slick talking stranger who I felt uneasy around and did not trust from the getgo.
So, with all that said:
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dirty Rotten Scoundrel
(I preyed till the end)
A female pickpockets perspective
I do love a good, ultra-posh gathering, especially when I’m not invited and have to crash it.
This evening I was able to slip in with a group of chirpy young ladies.
Easily entering the establishment and orchestrating an even easier bumping lift of a fat leather wallet from the dangling purse carried by one of the taffeta-gowned ladies in my surrogate group.
It all give me a tingly feeling of good things to come as I went to the lady’s washroom just off a hall by the main exit.
There, in a stall, I emptied the wallet of notes, £200, and discarded it under a linen-covered table piled high with small towels on my way out.
I left the powder room, now hungrily on the prowl as I explored my new patch.
I meandered around. Admiring, to myself, the glamorous gowns, dresses, and delicious jewels the ladies were wearing.
Gleamingly smooth pearls, glittery diamonds, and stunning pieces set with every colour of gemstones imaginable.
All are displayed in abundance along mouth-wateringly well-fitted velvet, satin, taffeta, and other sleek backdrops of an expensive ladies' attire.
My eyes also eagerly took in the plump bulges of pockets holding thicke wallets and shiny gold and silver watches being worn by the regulation-required tuxedo-clad males who accompanied some of the ladies.
Myself? I was dressed in a tight-fitted, soft velvet frock, perfect for squirming in close and also carrying a shoulder purse. Not too large, I needed to fit in with the primarily clutch purse-carrying ladies. Which, aside from wearing only 1/4 carat stud diamonds in my ears, I somewhat did.
It was a most titillating experience, moving in and out of the crowded main room, casually looking over the well-dressed guests. Hunting for an opportunity.
Which I soon found, an early twenties male, succulent in a black tux and hand-tied bow tie sporting a gold watch chain around his waist. Along with the noticeable bulge( no not that kind) of a thicke note-filled wallet in his jacket pocket.
I walked by, gathering his attention. His eyes followed and I stopped and pulled a cigarette and round lighter from my purse.
I carry two lighters a square one I use privately, and a round one that has no fuel.
I unsuccessfully tried to light my cigarette.
Soon a hand was extended with a lighter. It was my mark. He lit it, and as I bent over my hand went to his chest, reached in, and nimbly lifted out his long fat wallet, deposited it in my purse, along with my lighter.
Successful pickpocketing is all based on how well one pulls off distracting your mark. The move I just pulled off by drawing away attention using an empty lighter is one I use a lot in crowded pubs. Successfully I might add, on both men and women.
I was chatting with him a bit before making an excuse and pulling away. Far too many other opportunities around to waste time chatting with a pickpocketed mark.
I again went to the powder room and inside a stall, extracted £850 from the wallet.
I heard someone come in but did not enter a stall.
After a few minutes of fumbling noises, I heard the water running and splashing.
A female voice was talking.
On silent feet, I carefully opened the stall door and slipped out. Around the corner where the sinks were located, a voluptuous lady in lavender velvet was washing her face.
She was talking to herself, thinking she was alone. She appeared to be having issues with contact lenses by the way she was damning them.
I looked around her figure. A pricey necklace glittered reflecting in the mirror.
On the side of the sink, facing me, we’re long matching lavender satin gloves.
On top of which was a shiny pile of jewels, rings, gold bracelets, and a Rolex ladies watch with diamonds circling the face.
With her eyes closed, she had turned away towards the linen-covered table and was reaching blindly for a towel.
I threw the empty wallet under the table.
As she was distracted by the noise, I reached over with my other hand and picked up the jeweled timepiece. Then I slipped out the door before she turned back to face the mirror.
I headed back out the hallway, finally letting out my breath, with the intention of getting a drink and taking a well-earned break as I decided what to do next. This patch was a gold mine, but have I had my run?
That would be a big No, to my run of luck being over….
For, as I walked out the door, I fell in step behind a pair of exceptionally well-dressed middle-aged teenagers maybe 16-year-olds, brother and sister, so possibly twins?
Both had soft red hair and adorably large hazel eyes.
The sister’s soft hair flowed silkily down back in a thin downy feathery fall to just below her shoulders. And just as her hair had an almost fluid spill, so did the ultra-soft expensive gown she wore. As I walked behind them, my mark ran her hand, ring and bracelet rippling with rich sparkles, along her hair, pulling it forward over her shoulder so it was hanging down in front, exposing her neck to me.
She was deliciously sumptuous in a long flimsy thin silk gown of dark chocolate with rhinestone trimmings. The slinking gown was a wide shoulder halter top, with a slight flare at the bottom, sweeping over the top of silver sandals. I was admiring how the dress fell, gently affirming with tight lines, her youthfully graceful figure.
The tuxedo-wearing brother appears to be overly protective of his sister.
And of no surprises why…
They reached a table and he actually seated her like a real adult male.
I circled for a better look, my eyes not believing what they had glimpsed.
She was indeed wearing some pretty valuable jewellery for one of her age.
A silver, wide chocker-style necklace filled with precious diamonds blazingly encircled her neck. It was something one expected a royal to wear.
A pair of amazing chandelier-style earrings twinkled down from her ears.
A wide diamond bracelet lay elegantly around one of her heavy cream-coloured satin glove-clad wrists.
A mouthwatering ring with a large centre diamond graced her right pinkie.
She also had a brilliant eye-catching broach, small, but set with obscenely valuable diamonds, dangling provokingly between small firm breasts, set in the v of her sleek gown’s neckline.
As I had been following I was able to observe the simple clasps of both necklace and bracelet. My fingers itching the whole time.
I sat myself down at a nearby side bench along a side walkway leading to the hallway down which were the washrooms.
From my perch, I watched them, while pretending to watch the dancers on the ballroom floor across to the far side of the room. I was close enough to catch snippets of their conversation. I had a side view of the brother, a delightfully frontal view of his deliciously pretty twin sister.
I marveled over how I hadn’t been here 30 minutes and aside from already making several nice lifts, had stumbled across a wealthy young chick wearing real diamonds, playing peekaboo along her delightful figure. The whole display just cried out to a thief:
“Here I am,naïvely displaying jewels ripe for the plucking!”
I had my eye on her dazzling necklace as my preferred target. I began making a full study of it. As she was innocently sitting there chatting with her brother, I wondered if it had ever entered into her wildest dreams that the jewels she was wearing were ever at such a risk of being stolen.
Probably not, and all I had to do was watch and wait for opportunities, with which I had several methods to deal with.
One of which I made ready by reaching down and undoing my right open-toed shoe strap, then, trap set, sat back and waited, watching my chosen mark.
Oh, The right shoe strap because I am
left-handed. Now just needed my red-haired mark to use the lady’s loo.
I soon found that where I sat was indeed in a good location.
Lots of potential prospects were passing me by. But none yet had on targetable jewellery as the diamonds the sumptuously chocolate-gowned red head fetchingly wore, especially around her throat.
I kept refocussing my attention on her.
The brother was bored.
He was trying to get his sister to join in on some type of adventure. But she told him they were both too dressed up to play.
I thought to myself:
“Listen to your brother luv, It would be delicious to stumble across you pair outside, alone, looking for adventures.”
I then took my eyes off the savory diamonds around the young girl’s throat, because an older red-headed version of the girl had joined them.
Their mum I correctly surmised. Watching her son help seat her. Wish it was me seating her as I would use that opportunity to lift valuables from her fine figure.
The mother was elegantly dressed in a shiny green satin number. It had a knee-length skirt with quarter-length sleeves and a playfully low scooped neckline.
The dress, like her daughter’s gown, showed off every bump and curve of her still youthful figure.
And she, like her daughter, was also expensively wearing diamonds. But my lord, what a decadent collection of jewels.
A set of sparking ‘ice’ that included stunningly long diamond earrings, diamond bib style necklace, and a flashy diamond-filled bracelet. She also wore two gemmed cocktail rings on the bare fingers of her right hand. A wedding band and diamonds on her left’s ring finger. Flashing out from the V on her shiny dress was a large emerald broach, the same green color as her eyes.
And to literally top it all off, perched on her head like a crown, was set an actual dainty diamond-encrusted tiara!
Perhaps they were (very) minor royals after all?
I would have loved to see her daughter wearing a tiara also. Not sure how I would have gotten it off her head without notice. But I would have been game for a try.
The mother appeared to be alone. No husband for whatever reason seemed to be with them, judging by body language. A language I have become an expert in deciphering.
So the 16-year-old male was apparently the only security that lay between me and lifting some precious diamonds from either the females at the table with him. Though I still favored lifting jewels from the more susceptible sister sitting there dressed like a princess.
So this young watchman could probably easily be led astray long enough for me to plan out an approach.
This made things quite interesting. As I pondered over how to accomplish luring him off, I listened in some more, soon learning:
The father was not with them, I was right about that.
With the father gone their fetchingly attractive, well-dressed, very wealthy mother was open game to many interested males asking her to dance.
Hence her two kids were bored and tired of being alone so much, the fact of which appeared to go over their mum’s diamond shimmering head.
I licked my lips, it would seem that opportunity was going to be knocking at my door if only the mother would leave her children alone again so they could hopefully become open targets.
I was hell-bent on acquiring the daughter’s appealing necklace once the mum, then her brother, were both finally out of the picture.
But it was then that a lady walked by, holding her young toddler. She swished her way right past where I was sitting. Too aloof apparently to notice me. And I had to do a double take on what she wore around her throat.
She was expensively dressed in satin, with a double row of smooth, valuably matched, pearls around her throat. Her long hair is conveniently up. I watched with salivating interest as she made her way past me to the powder room, a child clinging to her shoulder.
When that Lass disappeared, my eyes went back to the table with its diamond-wearing Lass.
The lad was still trying to talk his balking sister into doing something, anything.
She was engagingly adjusting an earring, listening to him with an enchanting smile.
Their mum was idly smoking a cigarette, her eyes on the dance floor, her mind a million miles away.
Then the young mum wearing the pearls came out from the powder room hallway, and my attention was once again drawn away by an opportunity I simply could not allow myself to pass up.
Out of the corner of my, I saw her approach my bench, her gown flicking pleasingly along her figure.
I reached down and fumbled with my loose strap.
As I heard her approach, I look up and ask her if she could help me fasten my heel strap.
Her pearl necklace was magnificent.
She chirped politely, “Pleased to help you miss…”
Not sounding aloof in the least as she sat her toddler down. The child was adorably dressed in white satin and looked at me with wide-eyed wonder.
As her mum scrunched down I look around. Coast was clear for lift off…
Dipping my left hands' fingers in and locating her now dangling necklace of pearls’ clasp, I easily undo it, then in one motion lift them up and out from around her neck.
Her swinging ropes of pearls are in my purse before she finishes redoing my loose strap and stands up.
I hear the child giggling and I stroke her satiny attire as the mother stood straightening her dress.
She politely twittered “There you go, so happy I could help .”
I smiled back:
“So was I, beautiful child.”
Happily housing up her child, she left, not noticing she was a few pricy kilograms lighter around her throat.
I watched her move safely off, still admiring the way her gown moved. Mulling over in my mind if I could have lifted a diamond tiara that easily?
With those succulent imaginings I eagerly look back over at the table I had been keeping an eye on.
It was empty…!
My potential mark was gone, that quickly. Had the young twins gone out? We’re they with their mum? I was cursing myself. The pearls were a nice haul. But had I let real diamonds slip from my fingers!
I sighed, rising, straightening my dress, and began to move off, thinking to grab a smoke outside to settle my now overly excited nerves.
Then I spotted a young lady attired all in black satin, consisting of a long dress and bolero jacket.
She was sitting alone three tables away from the one where the twins had sat. Two empty cocktail glasses were at her elbow, a half-full one in front of her.
She was smoking the last vestiges of a cigarette. A thin necklace valuably set with a single row of diamonds flickered up around her throat as she blew a wispy stream of smoke. With one hand she brushed back her long wavy hair, exposing an expensive diamond tennis bracelet that blazed up from her wrist as she did.
“She’s trying to attract attention.” I thought, wondering if she had a clue as to whose attention she had just attracted.
I quickly moved in and took the seat next to her.
“Mind if I sit here a few minutes to catch my breath?”
She obviously did mind, but nodded politely, saying nothing, but started looking around.
I could tell she was on the prowl, and by noticing her ring finger was bare, she was available.
I began the conversation.
“Cannot believe how crowded this party is, and the number of men here.”
She nodded, opening her purse and pulling out another cigarette, and holding it up, like a beacon. She smiled at me weakly. Her face had the same sharp moody features of the sultry actress Jean Harlow.
“Yeah, it’s been alright, but a lot of ladies also. Been a struggle finding anyone to dance with. But that’s what I get for coming alone.”
I smiled, pulling out a cigarette myself, along with my round lighter. I reach over with it and say:
“Here allow me.”
I could see in her eyes, that she was disappointed that no male had spotted her and offered to light it. But as my lighter failed to light I saw relief in her eyes and she looked around for a male hero.
It was at this point my free hand reached down to her wrist and neatly flicked open the clasp of her diamond-studded bracelet hanging down loosely from her wrist. Slipping it off her wrist and in my purse before she could blink her long eyelashes twice at a suitable male for which she was desperately searching.
She gave up her vigil, and turned to me saying :
“That’s ok, You need a lighter that works.”
As the girl with the long eyelashes and bare wrists giggled, I replied :
“Oh, it works, sometimes.”
With a sigh, she finally pulled her own lighter out and lit both hers and my, cigarettes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my tux boy come back, with his sister, slinky gown swirling, in tow. Both giggling over something. It was twinging as it struck me how fetchingly pretty his sister was when she was happy.
And I was equally happy to see her come back.
Instantly my mind turned toward her brother.
If I could just lure him away for a bit. With him out of the way, I should have an open shot at lifting the bloody beautiful necklace his sister was wearing.
I had no real plan yet but figured once the young watchman was out of the picture, I could come up with something on the fly.
My table mate sighed.
“You know, I may just as well blow this joint. Waste of my time getting dressed up tonight.”
I looked away from the lad, back at her, puffing away on her cigarette. An epiphany popped up in my head.
Smashing out my half-smoked cigarette, I opened my purse and from the wad of cash I had taken from my first mark, I peeled off £100 in notes of the realm.
“See that lad over there? Well before you leave it would be worth this…”
I laid the notes on the table
“For you to have a couple of dances with. Him.”
She looked at the pile of cash, speaking.
“Why would you want to pay me this for taking him dancing?”
Her eyes went from the cash on the table to face me with a questioning look, I answered:
“It’s just that his sister, the redhead next to him, had a rather personal question to ask me. And is unable to do so with her brother hovering around.”
I could tell she knew I was lying, her eyes looked over the girl head to toe, then dropped to the designer clutch purse at her elbow.
“Nice purse that.”
She figured that it was her purse I was after. Worth about £400 at a pawn. but she didn’t seem to really care, as neither did I.
Scooping up the notes she put them in her purse, a knock-off designer number.
Smashing out her cigarette, she rose and bid me an uncaring farewell.
I watched as she went up to the table, placed a hand on the lad's shoulder, and said something I was too far away to catch. But he got right up as the lady nodded to his sister, I saw her eyes traveling up and down again, closely drooling over her sumptuous attire.
She then led the lad off.
As I again found myself becoming mesmerized by the shimmering necklace that lay around his sister’s throat, as she was watching her brother being led off.
I shake my head clear, looking away to rationally think.
As I did, my elbow hit something, looking down, I found myself staring at the 1/4 full cocktail glass.
Speaking of plans on the fly.
I picked up the glass and quickly circling, came up from behind to reach my red-headed mark, sitting there with all innocence.
As I passed I said:
“Watch it..”
Then let the drink slip from my hand and land in the silken lap of her gorgeous dark chocolate gown.
She jumped up immediately, and I was ready with my handkerchief.
As I apologized profusely. I Placed one hand on her shoulder and with the other reached down and began sopping up the wet area of her luxurious gown(making sure my fingers reached titillatingly well down along inside her pantyliner to maximize the distraction.
All the while the darling girl was confused, becoming aroused, and apologetic all at the same time.
“It’s ok miss, my fault I’m sure, must have startled you, didn’t I!”
As she spoke, she looked down watching my hand wiping her, long red hair falling into her face, my hand left her quivering shoulder, and locating the clasp of her necklace, flicked it open. Then I pulled it off from around her neck and dropped it neatly into my open purse on the floor.
She pulled her hair up to see, and I grasped her wrist with my now free hand, easily unsnapping her diamond bracelet, where it soon joined its purloined mate inside my purse.
“Do you have a handkerchief luv?”
She nodded her head no. Chandelier Earrings swing out, wickedly flashing their many tiers of pricy diamonds.
“Let’s get you to the washroom and clean you up a bit.”
As she lifted the hem of her wet gown I took her by the scintillating silk gowns covered waist and led her off.
As she was preoccupied with holding and studying her soiled gown, my fingers holding her waist worked over and unhooking her exceptionally valuable diamond brooch, easily lifting it off. Then I curled my fist around it into a ball.
I open the door to the washroom, then as she went in, deposited her brooch in my purse.
I handed her a towel, which she took and began wiping off her slippery wet gown
As she was bending over to clean down her front, her hair kept again falling down over her face.
Here luv, I said taking her soft hair and pulling it back. I laid my fingers cupping her ears. As she was busy wiping off wet spots, I was busy wiping off her ears with a stroking motion. Pulling out her handsomely jeweled earrings in the process.
I stood back, dropping the sparklers inside my purse as I watched her bending over to clean up, her slinky thin gown tightly outlining her figure
As she finished and stood up, I apologized:
“I am so sorry.”
Smiling weakly, she hugged me, saying with her head pressed to my shoulder:
“That’s s ok accidents happen.”
She twittered it pleasantly enough, and I hugged her back.
Pulling away I looked her over.
“Look you missed a spot.”
I lifted her hand and laid it upon the wet area just below her breasts, my fingers tickling. Giggling, she put one hand on my waist for support, and as the other began to wipe her wet spot, I myself wiped off the ring from her slick glove-clad finger.
She was now pretty much cleaned up, and thoroughly cleaned out.
If only she had been wearing that diamond tiara!
I walked back through the exit door as she stayed behind to take care of her business. The excitement, mixed with anguish, made her have to use a stall.
I head off down the hall intending on turning towards the exit once I reach it.
From what had become a habit, I looked towards the red-headed damsel in distress’s table. Brother is not back yet… but…
The wealthy mother, whose glittery diamonds would put a Tiffany’s display case to shame, is back at the table. Gullibly alone. Tiara is glittery like a bloody bright beacon. She is holding an unlit cigarette, a lighter on the table by her purse. She is watching her son on the dance floor.
I said thoughtfully to myself knowing the song was almost through and the lady would be dropping him like a hot potato when it was done:
“In for a penny…”
Licking my lips with expectations, I pull out my round lighter as I walk up to the twin’s richly attired mother…
“May I? “
I lean over as she turned to me, and placed the cigarette in between her red lipstick-covered mouth. Up close, her earrings and tiara flashed into such provoking life it made me blink.
As I clumsily knock her overly expensive purse to the floor with my elbow, I tell her:
“Can never get these bloody things to work.”
Fini
I’m not really wicked, just written that way
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Postscript:
The dance venue in Scotland had a washroom with a linen-covered table stacked with towels.
It was underneath where cleanup found my rhinestone bracelet.
Yes, I had used the wash.
But what if it had gone like this:
An observers viewpoint:
The mum is wearing real diamonds in her earrings. Therefore reasonable to assume her daughter’s bracelet must be real diamonds also, and a young lady is usually the easier pick.
Bracelet is acquired, discovered not to be real, not wishing to be caught with a nicked bracelet of just rhinestone, the evidence is tossed.
I mean really, it could have happened that way?
“Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
the cat would eat fish, but would not wet her feet
Le chat mangerait du poisson, mais ne se mouillerait pas les pieds
Dark clouds hang over the Qantas Engineering base in Brisbane as a flock of Airbus A330's wait out their COVID-19 enforced storage. The dark clouds are not limited to the planes. Speculation of a closure of this relatively new facility has been rife all year as Qantas looks to save money to ride out the pandemic with international travel still highly restricted, despite a supposed number in excess of 30000 Australians still desperate to return home. And when things seem bad, they can always get worse with a new and growing cluster of COVID cases in the Northern Beaches of Sydney, possibly sourced from international flight crew. This can never be helpful to international travel either (and it goes without saying, the level of fear in Australia where unfortunate complacency has set in because of our comparatively very good control of the virus).
There is absolutely no suggestion by the media or me in reflecting on this news that any Qantas flight crew are involved or the cause.
This quote from ABC news 18/12/2020 - from the Premier of New South Wales...
"Ms Berejiklian also confirmed new rules for inbound international airline crew would roll out next Tuesday.
Presently airline crew are able to self-isolate upon their arrival in NSW in either a home or accommodation.
They are not subjected to the mandatory 14-day hotel quarantine scheme.
There are between 2,000 and 3,000 airline crew arriving in NSW a week, Health Minister Brad Hazzard said.
Ms Berejiklian confirmed there would be two police-operated hotels in Sydney for airline crew "as opposed to 25 or 26 [hotels]".
She said the "lack of compliance" was the issue that caused the rules to be tightened."
"It's the breach of the guidelines... it's people, unfortunately, doing the wrong thing."
On another note, Qantas turned 100 this year which put a significant damper on celebrations for the Flying Kangaroo. After about 14 years flying in country Queensland and Northern Terrifory, Qantas Empire Airways Limited as it was known then was Incorporated in Brisbane on 18 January 1934 with ten shares. Despite its original routes and the state of its birth and incorporation being Queensland, the 100th Anniversary flyover occurred over Sydney a month or two back with hardly a nod to this state bar the first letter in the Company's famous name. I would hate to think that the border closures then in force which were rather despised by Qantas management may have contributed in some way to this apparent lack of recognition. Sad really for an event that could still have been cautiously celebrated Australia wide. I guess it saved money when money was short!
No doubt the Qantas Founder's Museum in outback Longreach (the fleet name for the 747-400's also) celebrated the Centenary as much as possible but they may have been still closed also.
2020 also saw the withdrawal of the final iconic Boeing 747-400's from the fleet. They had been slated for withdrawal late this year but their departure for the grim desert in the USA was hastened by COVID. I do understand that several of the last aircraft were sold to GE and will live on, probably for testing new equipment including engines.
The final image of the triptych.
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