#savill garden

[cycles-seasons]

#nature photography #nature #nature photographer #outdoors #photographers on tumblr #stillness speaks #spring #savill garden #england #mother nature #presence #beauty #bokeh

[graemegardenappreciationsociety]

#goodies #black pudding bertha #cw #jimmy saville #graeme garden #tim brooke-taylor #bill oddie

[antifainternational]

January 13 - Global Day of Action for Palestine

Here is a list of protests in solidarity with Palestine for January 13th. If there's no protest on saturday near you, take a look at this site (where we got this list from) to see if there is one near you on another day.

It's a looong list so it's under the cut here:

AUSTRALIA

ADELAIDE, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Parliament House. Info: http://www.afopa.com.au/afopa-events/2024/1/13/global-day-of-action-for-palestine

ALTONA BEACH, VIC, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Altona Beach (Kites for Palestine). Info: https://bukjeh.org/etn/fly-a-kite-for-gaza/

CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Garema Place. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1Tmi9jyT6x/

DARWIN, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm Nightcliff Foreshore. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C13PZfQyx6P/

GOLD COAST, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 3:30 pm, Surfers Paradise Esplanade. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1vvY_kpjkM/

HOBART/NIPALUNA, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Davey Street in front of Grand Chancellor. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/877061687400715/

LAUNCESTON, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Civic Square. Info: https://friendsofpalestinetasmania.org/

MOSS VALE, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13 (Weekly), 1 pm, Leighton Gardens, 127 Argyle St. Info: https://apan.org.au/event/weekly-moss-vale-vigil-for-peace-justice-in-palestine/

MPARTNWE, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 9 am, Cars meet at Telegraph Station, 9:30 am Bikes meet at Snow Kenna Park. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C10iKLbSjU-/

NEWCASTLE, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Newcastle Museum. Info: https://facebook.com/events/s/protest-end-the-genocide-in-ga/351713430807807/

PORT MACQUARIE, AUSTRALIA – Sat Jan 13, 10 am, Oxley Beach (Kites for Gaza). Info: https://apan.org.au/event/port-macquarie-fly-a-kite-for-gaza/

AUSTRIA

GRAZ, AUSTRIA – Sat Jan 13, 4 pm, Grazer Hauptbahnhof. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1xAHAstgtj/

SALZBURG, AUSTRIA – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Alter Markt

VIENNA, AUSTRIA – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, 1070 Platz der Menschenrechte. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12dm9itpPv/

WIENER NEUSTADT, AUSTRIA – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, Herzog Leopoldstr. 32 beim BORG.

BELGIUM

BRUGGE, BELGIUM – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Burg. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1413973119327402/

GHENT, BELGIUM – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Stadshal. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1xNF3Drkr4/

BRAZIL

SAO PAULO, BRAZIL – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, MASP. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1uPIywL3Ch/

CANADA AND QUEBEC

COBOURG, ON (CANADA) – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Victoria Hall (every Saturday). Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1050719572872023/

WINNIPEG, MB (CANADA) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Winnipeg City Hall. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12TvRUgZr5/

DENMARK

COPENHAGEN, DENMARK – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Sundbyoster Plads to Amagerbro Station. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C141sIFsEyb/

ENGLAND

HALIFAX, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Savile Park (Kites for Gaza). Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1rcDm1M-bN/

HALIFAX, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 1 pm, Wilkos on Southgate. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14Vb4wMgI_/

HEBDEN BRIDGE, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 3 pm, Roadside Rally, Holme St; 4 pm, Vigil, St. George’s Square. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14Vb4wMgI_/

LEEDS, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13, 12:30 pm, Leeds Becket University to City Square. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1zmlUvMtUE/

LONDON, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Bank Junction. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1uiCejM9U7/

NELSON, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 1:30 pm, Nelson Bazaars. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1745872575916888/

NOTTINGHAM, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, St Peter’s Church. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/895516721895213/

SHEFFIELD, ENGLAND – Sat Jan 13, 10:30 am, Ellesmere Green. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C131K5OqywW/

FINLAND

HELSINKI, FINLAND – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Central Railway Station. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1zWU7JtCWt/

FRANCE

LYON, FRANCE – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, Place des Terreaux. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12BHiDoyBT/

PARIS, FRANCE – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Republique. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12Kx3hIFnC/

TOULOUSE, FRANCE – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Jean Jaures to Arnaud Bertrand. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1wtkVPiTaC/

GERMANY

AACHEN, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Hauptbahnhof

AUGSBURG, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Moritzplatz

BERLIN, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Neptunbrunnen. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1uWAoUMYgr/

BRAUNSCHWEIG, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Schlossplatz 1

DUSSELDORF, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Hauptbahnhof

FRANKFURT, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 1:30 pm, Hauptwache. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1xJbX7tDbH/

FREIBURG, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Konzerthaus. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1wmG5TKy0H/

JENA, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Holzmarkt. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C15Gvxyse7n/

KIEL, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Bootshafen

MAINZ, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Hauptbahnhof

MUNICH, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Odeonsplatz. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1vDFzfsviF/

SAARBRUCKEN, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Landwehrplatz

STUTTGART, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Schlossplatz. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1uhwaBs1OB/

TUBINGEN, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Holzmarkt. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1uiIwVooMj/

ULM, GERMANY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Marktplatz

IRELAND

CARRICK-ON-SHANNON, IRELAND – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, The Bridge. Info: https://www.ipsc.ie/protest/emergency-protests-for-palestine-around-ireland

CORK, IRELAND – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Grand Parade

DERRY, IRELAND – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Derry Waterside Train Station. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/379355981136459/

DUBLIN, IRELAND – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Garden of Remembrance. Info: https://www.ipsc.ie/protest/emergency-protests-for-palestine-around-ireland

SKIBBEREEN, IRELAND – Sat Jan 13, 12:30 pm, Aldi Carpark. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/884577173028746/

ITALY

FIRENZE, ITALY – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, Corteo da Piazza dei Ciompi.

NAPOLI, ITALY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Piazza Garibaldi. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C11jF13IMfk/

ROME, ITALY – Sat Jan 13, 3 pm, Via dei Fori Imperiali to Largo Corrado Ricci. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12TtZUNVDn/

KOREA

SEOUL, KOREA – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Zionist embassy. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1wWJ2WJvMn/

MEXICO

GUADALAJARA, MEXICO – Sat Jan 13, 4 pm, Rambla Cataluna to Plaza de la Liberacion. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C13FY23uHH_/

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO – Sat Jan 13, 4 pm, Angel to US Embassy to Zocalo. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C126FgtOh2y/

NEW ZEALAND

TIMARU, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, Face of Peace, Caroline Bay. (Kites for Gaza). Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/351982744232340/

WHANGAREI, NEW ZEALAND – Sat Jan 13, 10 am, Town Basin. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/1062868608192188/

NETHERLANDS

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Museumplein. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14bgz6skSe/

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Dam Square to Museumplein. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C15I-anI-lc/

LEEUWARDEN, NETHERLANDS – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Leeuwarden Station. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1rgX_OoVe4/

ZWOLLE, NETHERLANDS – Sat Jan 13, 3:30 pm, Starbucks station. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C11cUhjsyFd/

NORWAY

OSLO, NORWAY – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Youngstorget to Zionist Embassy. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/876776784142252/

PERU

LIMA, PERU – Sat Jan 13, 3:30 pm, Plaza 27 de noviembre, San Isidro – Parque Kennedy. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1r3BHZrSSM/

PORTUGAL

PORTO, PORTUGAL – Sat Jan 13, 3:30 pm, Praca da Batalha. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14UrYhs-hB/

PORTO, PORTUGAL – Sat Jan 13 (every night), 10 pm, Camara Municipal (Vigil). Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1mWoJ0srwr/

ROMANIA

BUCHAREST, ROMANIA – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Universitate to Victoriei. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C11qxxuIlKe/

CLUJ-NAPOCA, ROMANIA – Sat Jan 13, details TBA. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1tsmB2ojCq/

TIMISOARA, ROMANIA – Sat Jan 13, details TBA. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1tsmB2ojCq/

SCOTLAND

EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Foot of the Mound. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1od7QsNlCM/

INVERNESS, SCOTLAND – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, The Spectrum Centre. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C15ggmFtNyg/

ORKNEY, SCOTLAND – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 1 pm, St Magnus Cathedral Steps. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/899757958430523/

SOUTH AFRICA

CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Mandela Glasses, Sea Point Promenade. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14N2xlqjyK/

JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AFRICA – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, US Consulate, Sandton. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C13qpzSNbYt/

KNYSNA, SOUTH AFRICA – Sat Jan 13, 9 am, N2 C/O Main Service Rd and Wagtail St, Sedgefield, Western Cape. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/910931826901335/

SPANISH STATE

A CORUNA, GALICIA, SPAIN – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Praza de Lugo. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14lQvascZx/

BETERA, VALENCIA – Sat, Jan 13, 5 pm, Ayuntamiento de Betera. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1ISqjUN2ir/

COMPOSTELA, GALICIA, SPAIN – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Praterias. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14lQvascZx/

MOLINA DE SEGURA, SPAIN – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Plaza de Ayuntamiento. Info: https://twitter.com/LibreRegion/status/1743912944612540608

VIGO, GALICIA, SPAIN – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, Porta do Sol. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C14lQvascZx/

SWEDEN

KARLSKRONA, SWEDEN – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Klaipedaplatsen. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/7004450806289059/

KRISTIANSTAD, SWEDEN – Sat Jan 13, 2:30 pm, Stora Torget. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C15GIWbNI_K/

MALMO, SWEDEN – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, St Knuts Torg. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1348ATC6Uq/

VARBERG, SWEDEN – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Varbergs Torg. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1piXtgLGYj/

SWITZERLAND

BASEL, SWITZERLAND – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Theaterplatz. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1m6lOxLDI-/

UNITED STATES

EUGENE, OR (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Federal Courthouse, 405 E 8th Ave. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1jOAiXiUJ0/

FORT COLLINS, CO (US) – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 3 pm, Old Town Square Stage. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1n9pmNOGFd/

FORT WAYNE, IN (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, MLK Bridge.

KALISPELL, MT (US) – Sat Jan 13, 12, Main and Center by Depot Park (Every Saturday). Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1puNa1ucrm/

KANSAS CITY, KS (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Granada Park, Roeland Park. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C10Y27LJ1EO/

LANGLEY, WA (US) – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Bayview Rd and Hwy 525. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/373235975254744/

MIAMI, FL (US) – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, University Metrorail Station. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C15V1BXLyc-/

NEW YORK, NY (US) – Sat Jan 13, 12 pm, NE Corner 5th Ave and 44th St, Brooklyn. (Vigil, every Saturday). Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C0KsY8PvCwp/

NEW YORK, NY (US) – Sat Jan 13, 5 pm, Bryant Park Library Steps. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C145mA_Jido/

OAKLAND, CA (US) – Sat Jan 13, 5 am, West Oakland BART, Port Shutdown for Palestine. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1qpwPaLsLY/

OLYMPIA, WA (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Heritage Park, 5th Ave SW. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1xUYlRPtRc/

PETALUMA, CA (US) – Sat Jan 13 (every Saturday), 12:30 pm, Petaluma Blvd and East Washington. Info: https://www.facebook.com/events/362661229552435/

PORTLAND, OR (US) – Sat Jan 13, 6 pm, Protest Michael Rapoport, Helium Comedy Club, 1510 SE 9th Ave. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1nDhO7vNM4

SACRAMENTO, CA (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1pm, State Capital, West Steps. Info: https://sac4palestine.org/january-3-2024-solidary-rally-with-national-march-on-washington/

SAN DIEGO, CA (US) – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Plaza de Panama, Balboa Park. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C13b08grRj2/

ST PAUL, MN (US) – Sat Jan 13, 2 pm, Western District Police Dept to MN State Capitol. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C12sMuQJHeh/

VIROQUA, WI (US) – Sat Jan 13, 11 am, Main St and Decker St, Weekly Vigil by Driftless Solidarity. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C1fWWvKNJlI/

WASHINGTON, DC (US) – Sat Jan 13, 1 pm, Freedom Plaza, 1325 Pennsylvania Ave NW Info: https://march4gaza.org

BUSES ACROSS THE COUNTRY to this national march from CT, FL, IL, IN, MA, MI, MO, NC, NJ, NY, OH, PA, VA and WI – get at the website

PRE-RALLY – WASHINGTON, DC – Sat Jan 13, 7 am, National Mall. Info: https://twitter.com/_FRFP_/status/1742706175114661946

HEALTH CARE WORKERS MARCH – Sat Jan 13, 10 am ,Dept of Health and Human Services, 200 Independence Ave SW. Info: https://www.instagram.com/p/C10DXDiADMK/

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #antifa #antifascism #antifascist action #solidarity #end the occupation #ceasfire now

[got-ticket-to-ride]

John Lennon talking about "the Beatles break up" in 1970

Breakdown:

Jann asks about the Beatles break up and John says he told Paul he is leaving (like they are the only two people in the band?)

Paul was still making a lot of plans for the band but John was already being stubborn about everything.

Paul probably thought he could/would do damage control while John has not made the announcement yet.

John saying he wasn't angry and then saying "not angry in that way" (what way then, John?) and then slipping to "we" were angry.

Paul calling John on the phone the same day (after crying his heart out for an hour) declaring : he can do the same "John and Yoko" thing

John answering like he was going to be ok with it.

Jann Wenner: You said you quit The Beatles first.

John: Yeah.

Jann Wenner: How?

John:

Well, I said to Paul, I'm leaving.

We're in Apple and I just on the way over to. I knew before I went to Toronto, I told Alan I was leaving. I told Eric Clapton and Klaus that I was leaving and I'd like to probably use them as a group, you know, and it hadn't decided how to do it, to have a permanent new group or or what. And then later on I thought, fuck, I'm not going to get stuck with another set of people in it, whoever they are. So, but I I announced it to myself and to the people around me on the way to Toronto the few days before. And on the plane, Alan came with me. I told Alan, you know, it's over. And then when I got back there was a few meetings and Alan had said, well, cool it cool it because there was a lot to do, you know, business wise it wouldn't have been suitable at the time, you know.

And then we were discussing something in the office with Paul, and Paul said something other, like like to do something or. And I kept saying no, no, no to everything, he said, you see. So it came to a point. I had to say something, of course. And well, what do you mean then? So I said, I mean the group's over, I'm leaving.

And but Alan was there. He'll remember exactly, and she will. This is my how I see it. Alan was saying don't tell.

He didn't want me to tell Paul even you know (pause). And but I couldn't help. So I thought I was out. I couldn't stop.

It came out and Paul and Alan said they were glad that I wasn't going to announce it, that I was going to make an event out of it. Right, but Paul and Alan both. I don't know whether Paul said don't tell anybody, but he was damn pleased that I wasn't, you know, he said, Oh well, that means nothing really happened if you're not going to say anything.

So that's what happened. Well, I mean, like, like anybody when you say divorce, you know, their face goes all sorts of colours. It's like he knew what really that this was the final thing, you know?

And then six months later, he comes out with whatever, you know, I told Ray Connolly. So there's a lot of people knew I'd left, but I was a fool not to do it, you know? Not to do what Paul did, which is use it to sell a record.

Jann Wenner: You were really angry at Paul.

John: No, I wasn't angry. But when he came out with his, I'm leaving. Well, I wasn't angry. I was just shit, you know, I mean, he's a good PR man, Paul. I mean, he's about the best in the world, probably. He really does a job.

I was just. I wasn't angry in that way. I was. We were all hurt that he didn't tell us.

That what he was going to do. But he, I think he claims that he didn't mean that to happen, but that's bullshit. He called me in the afternoon of that day and said I'm doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. And I said good, you know.

Mal Evans during an interview in 1975

MAL (Source): And then… John left. And I remember that well. That was really, truly a heartbreaking experience. We were in Apple, at 3 Savile Row, and John said – “It’s over.” You know? And I drove Paul home. And we got to Paul’s house, and

he spent the next hour in the house crying his eyes out.

And I just wandered around the garden like a lost soul, just crying. It was the end of the world. It was like the end of The Wizard of Oz – when she gets back to the black-and-white reality. All the colour had gone out of life.

#Mclennon Dynamic #John Lennon #Paul Mccartney #Mclennon #1970 #The Beatles #things I read to hurt myself #gttr-beatles

[muzaktomyears]

The man who was there the day the Beatles broke up

Mal Evans was the Fab Four’s roadie, fixer and friend. Paul McCartney confided in him when the band split, while John Lennon relied on him to guard his life. A new book tells his story

The Beatles’ lingering tensions finally caught up to them during a meeting among John, Paul and George at 3 Savile Row on September 10 1969. As Mal and Neil [Aspinall, who ran the Beatles’ company Apple Corps] observed, John took particular issue with what he perceived as Paul’s megalomania, saying that, “If you look back on the Beatles albums, good or bad or whatever you think of ’em, you’ll find that most times if anybody has got extra time it’s you! For no other reason than you worked it like that.” For Mal, the conversation must have been pure agony. He idolised Paul, who bore the brunt of the meeting’s vitriol.

In his own defence, Paul protested that he had “tried to allow space on albums for John’s songs, only to find that John hadn’t written any”.

With the idea of recording a new album seemingly off the table, John suggested that they produce a Christmas single instead. After all, he reasoned, their annual holiday fan club record would be due before long. When this idea was met with silence and indifference, John soberly concluded, “I guess that’s the end of the Beatles.”

As horrible as the experience must have been for Mal, panic hadn’t set in just yet. During the past 15 months, Ringo and George had quit the band at various times, only to be coaxed back. But ten days later it all spilled out again at a meeting at Apple. Mal and Allen Klein (their manager after the death of Brian Epstein) were there, along with Yoko, Neil and the boys. For his part, George was on speakerphone from Cheshire, where he was visiting his ailing mother. The topic at hand was a new agreement with Capitol, which Klein was understandably eager to ink.

As Mal observed, Paul began to enumerate the group’s upcoming opportunities, including a series of intimate gigs and a possible television special. In each instance, John said, “No, no, no,” before telling Paul, “Well, I think you’re daft.” Eventually, he blurted out that he wanted a “divorce”. “What do you mean?” a stunned Paul asked. “The group’s over,” John replied. “I’m leaving.”

At this point, Paul recalled, “Everyone blanched except John, who coloured a little, and said, ‘It’s rather exciting. It’s like I remember telling Cynthia I wanted a divorce.’ ”

Afterwards, Mal and Paul returned to McCartney’s home, where they retreated to the garden, still trying to process what had transpired. Paul remained hopeful that John might change his mind, that the Beatles would continue unabated. But Mal knew better. As with George, Mal had reasoned that “all of them had left the group at one time or another, starting with Ringo’’. But when “John came into the office and said, ‘The marriage is over! I want a divorce,’ that was the final thing. That’s what really got to Paul, you know, because I took Paul home and I ended up in the garden crying my eyes out.”

That night with Lennon and Phil Spector in 1973, when happiness was not a warm gun

Mal took great pleasure in spending long hours in John’s company, enjoying the Beatle’s undivided attention, as opposed to sharing him with Paul, George and Ringo. “It was fascinating,” said Mal, who by this point was living in LA and writing his own songs, “because John was talking to me like I was a songwriter, and that was incredible. For the first time, John and I really communicated, whereas, when it was the four of them, John was always the hardest to talk to. I always thought that when John stopped insulting me, we had fallen out as friends.” But, he added, referring to John’s teasing, “The more he likes you, the more he takes the mickey out of you.”

Yet, as Mal soon discovered, working with John during this period would prove to be a chore — incomparable, in fact, to their touring years together, when the Beatles were often confined to the relative safety of a hotel suite. When he was in LA, John could often be found at the Sunset Strip’s Rainbow Bar and Grill, which had emerged as his de facto headquarters [during a period of heavy drinking which Lennon ironically referred to as the Lost Weekend but actually lasted 18 months.] With musicians like John, Harry (Nilsson), Ringo, Keith Moon, Alice Cooper and Micky Dolenz adopting the Rainbow as their regular watering hole, they had taken to calling themselves the Hollywood Vampires, a nickname that evoked the night hours they spent guzzling hooch in the bar’s loft space.

On one of his most harrowing evenings in Los Angeles, Mal had accompanied John and Phil Spector to the Rainbow. At one point, John walked Phil to his car, assuring Mal that he would return shortly. “About a half hour goes by, and I start worrying and go outside looking for John — no sign,” Mal later wrote. “I’d lost track of a Beatle for a day. What had happened, I found out the following evening, was that when he’d seen Phil off, a few hippie fans of his took him in tow, and John, who had just moved into a flat, couldn’t remember the address, nor his or my phone numbers. [John] eventually turn[ed] up, but not before I’d had a few irate words from Yoko, who phoned me from New York shouting, ‘I thought you were John’s bodyguard — why don’t you guard his body?’ ”

At a loss for words, Mal admitted that “I never really thought of myself as a bodyguard to anybody, but I suppose over the years that had been part of the gig. Anyway, they were all grown up, with very strong minds of their own as to what they wanted to do, and I certainly didn’t expect them to hold themselves accountable to me.”

That December, as work on Back to Mono proceeded, John and Phil shifted their project to the Record Plant West. The change of recording studios had everything to do with John’s and Phil’s antics having gotten them evicted from their previous studio, A&M. At one point, Nilsson and Moon, in a drunken stupor, had urinated onto the recording console, leaving the electronics in an ungodly mess.

Things began innocently enough after John and Phil completed their December 11 session at the Record Plant West, where they took a pass at Chuck Berry’s You Can’t Catch Me. As Mal looked on, the two men, drunk to the gills, were horsing around the Las Vegas Room. In a nod to the early days of Beatlemania when the Beatles would climb on Mal when they heard they were at the top of the charts, John decided to hop onto Mal’s back for a piggyback ride. Unfortunately, Phil opted to get in on the act, too. Mal’s physical dexterity in late 1973 was a far cry from that of the early 1960s, and he had difficulty sustaining the weight of two men atop his aching back. As always, Mal observed, “Phil goes a little too far,” and in the ensuing ruckus, “he karate-chopped me on the nose, my spectacles went flying, and I got tears in my eyes I can tell you. I turned around with a real temper and told Phil, ‘Don’t ever lay another finger on me, man.’ ”

And that’s when Phil, “maybe to re-establish himself in his own eyes”, Mal thought, pulled out a handgun. To the roadie’s surprise, the producer “fired it off under our noses, deafening us both, the bullet ricocheting around the room and landing between my feet”.

John was understandably incensed, exclaiming to Phil, “If you’re gonna kill me, kill me, but don’t take away my hearing — it’s me living!”

Until that moment, Mal and John had believed that Spector’s handgun was a toy. At one point earlier in the evening, Phil had cocked the trigger and aimed the weapon at John’s head. As a result of the incident in the Las Vegas Room, “John’s fear of guns generally was doubled.” For his part, Mal vowed to stay clear of Phil. He would attend the recording sessions in deference to John, but that was it.

In nearly the same instant that Mal decided to banish Phil from his world forever, he and John were hustled off to [co-founder of the Record Plant] Gary Kellgren’s house for a lavish going-away party in honour of Mal, who was preparing to make his return to Sunbury. For the occasion, Phil had arranged for Mal to receive “a beautiful large cake, which must have measured four feet by three feet, so nicely decorated with a large bottle of Napoleon brandy, [and] a lot of comic figures like Superman and Batman,” Mal wrote. The sumptuous dessert was inscribed, “To Mal, my pal, love, Philip.”

As it turned out, the madcap producer’s greatest gift to Mal that night came in the form of his absence. “Phil, to show the most understanding side of his nature, did not come to the party,” said Mal. “He knew if he had, he’d be outrageous and spoil it for me. But he set it up and didn’t come — a true mark of affection from a friend.”

The party came to a sudden close, though, when John, having grown blind drunk, planted a telephone into the sticky remains of the cake.

Meet the Beatles: four days in Mal’s life with the moptops

Paul (1962) In July 1962, Mal and his family attended the celebration of the “Wavertree Mystery”, an annual event held to commemorate the anonymous donation of a local playground back in 1895. Mal later recalled that, “Lil and I were proudly pushing Gary in his pram when she turned to me and said, ‘There’s a weird guy over there — keeps staring at us. Now he looks like a real Cavernite to me.’ On turning, I was to see Paul standing there, unshaven, with a denim jacket thrown over his shoulder and chewing on a toffee apple.” After engaging in the niceties of introducing his wife to the scruffy musician, Mal took Paul for a jaunt. “We spent the rest of the day together,” Mal wrote, “Paul and I daring each other to go on things like the parachute drop and other displays that took nerve, neither of us accepting the challenge.” At one point, they stopped in front of an automobile exhibition. Paul announced to Mal that “one of these days I’m going to own one of those cars’’, pointing to one very humble saloon-type car.

George (1962) After shows at the Cavern, Mal would introduce his wife Lily to the rest of the band. “On one occasion,” Mal recalled, “Lil and I bought the fish and chips for the group and ourselves, as they could only muster enough money between them to pay for the teas.” Although she had her misgivings about Mal’s involvement in their lives, she enjoyed getting to know the bandmates. “After gigs,” she later recalled, “George would come back to our house for bacon and eggs. He sometimes came back before Mal to keep me company. I’d be washing baby clothes and nappies or ironing. I liked him the best.” Lily fondly remembered the time she pushed the bangs from Harrison’s face, saying, “Let’s see what it looks like with your hair back. I like that better.” But George wasn’t having it. He combed his hair forward, telling her, “That’s the way I have to wear it; it’s the Beatle cut.”

Ringo (1965) Driving up the M1, Mal and Ringo stopped at a roadside café for lunch. “We were sitting at the counter,” Mal recalled, “and the chap next to me had obviously been trying to make up his mind whether it really was Ringo with me. Suddenly, he turned to me and said, ‘I don’t care if it is him or not.’ Ringo nearly choked with laughter as I teased the fellow, saying, ‘No, it’s not him. But it gets terribly embarrassing taking him anywhere because everybody mistakes him for Ringo!’”

John (1964) John held no illusions about the Beatles’ behaviour, later admitting that, “We were bastards. You can’t be anything else in such a pressurised situation, and we took it out on Neil and Mal. They took a lot of shit from us because we were in such a shitty position. It was hard work and somebody had to take it. Those things are left out, about what bastards we were. F***ing big bastards, that’s what the Beatles were. You have to be a bastard to make it, and that’s a fact. And the Beatles were the biggest bastards on earth. We were the Caesars. Who’s going to knock us when there’s a million pounds to be made, all the handouts, the bribery, the police, and the hype?”

During a flight to Massachusetts for the September 12 show at the Boston Garden, Mal’s long-standing feelings of intimidation around John came to a head. Sitting at the rear of the plane, he broke down in tears, telling a reporter that “John got kind of cross with me — just said I should go f*** off. No reason, ya know. But I love the man. John is a powerful force. Sometimes he’s rough, if you know what I mean, man. But there’s no greater person that I know.” In many ways, it was as if Mal’s lack of self-confidence, a key aspect of his persona for the balance of his life, had returned with a vengeance. Later John approached Mal and embraced him.

Extracted from Living the Beatles Legend by Kenneth Womack (Mudlark £25), published on November 14.

(source)

#another article in today's times! #mal evans #kenneth womack #the beatles #john lennon #phil spector #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Thanks to trexalicious for finding the Duford Wood Estate in Petersfield, Hampshire UK, that comes with a massive  46-foot warplane, decommissioned Harrier II jet — one of eight left in existence. (The owner said that the beloved huge jet would be near impossible to move.) The Arts & Crafts home has 6bds, 4ba, and is priced at £3.95M / $5M.

As for the home, itself, it has been completely renovated. This is the new entrance hall.

Drawing room. Gee, they made it so stark and white.

The dining room still has the original beams and renewed fireplace.

The kitchen has been completely modernized with cement accents, sleek laminate white cabinets, and not even a hint of the Arts & Crafts style.

Family room with new sliders to the garden.

The upstairs landing. The only thing Arts & Crafts about this home, now, is the exterior.

Massive primary bedroom with remodeled fireplace alcove (it may have been an inglenook).

Brand new bath.

This bedroom has a hint of the original fireplace.

Ultra modern bath with a clear jetted tub.

The rec room has a kitchen and dining area, plus access to the patio.

Guest bedroom and bath.

Another of the 6 bds.

The grounds of the gated estate are stunning.

The exterior is lovely.

Beautiful gardens.

Outbuildings by the pond.

10+ acres of land and a jet fighter that the owner calls a "garden gnome."

I would buy it, put a gnome "pilot" in the cockpit, and do something w/the interior of that house.

#houses #house tours #home tour #submission #renovated homes #unique properties

[heli-writes]

Seven summers, part 6.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x female!reader

Summary: Every summer, Draco and y/n meet. First, by pure coincidence, then intentionally. Unbeknown to Draco, y/n's a muggle who has no clue he's a wizard. With the rise of the dark lord, how long can this go well?

Disclaimers: Make-out session, allusion to sex, no full-on smut (they're still minors, y'all!)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, July.

The weather in England has been cold and rainy lately. It doesn't seem to be July at all. Y/n longs for those warm, long summer nights outside in her parents' garden, playing cards and drinking bubbly lemonade. Instead, she's clinging to her umbrella and making herself as small as possible so that she doesn't give the wind too much space to attack her with its whipping water. She's waiting for Draco near the entrance of Diagon Alley. She watched several wizards enter and leave the place, but no Draco so far. Y/n wonders if he will actually show up. They've been exchanging letters via owl, as usual. At the beginning of the school year, Draco's letters have been arriving quite frequently but there were less and less letters the last few months. Y/n knows there's been some arguments with his rival Harry and a new teacher. Draco was appointed a certain position in a Club or something. He didn't really tell her what's it about but ever since he's been more reserved than before.

Y/n waits for almost an hour before she gives up. She walks through the pouring rain back to the bus stop. She stops by a Costa and treats herself to a hot cup of tea on the go in an attempt to warm herself up. On the bus, she plugs in her headphones and stares out of the window. She tries really hard not to cry and hopes that none of the other passengers notice th water dwelling in her eyes. When she gets off the bus, her head's pounding from the oppressing of tears. Y/n walks straight home and up to her room, without taking off her jacket and boots. She can hear her mother complaining about the water on the floor, but she doesn't care. She's just dropped onto her bed when she hears the soft clank of Draco's owl on her window. Y/n gets up and sniffs. This guy has some nerve, she tells herself as she walks up to the window. She takes the letter from the owl and throws some dried meat in its direction, a habit she picked up a while ago. She leans back on a chair and reads.

Dear y/n,

I won't be able to make it today. I'm really sorry but there have been some issues in my family recently and my mother needs my support. I hope the whole situation dissolves itself soon.

I'll send you a letter when it's possible to meet again. I hope you can understand.

Draco.

Y/n folds up the letter and puts it in a box beneath her bed where she keeps all of Draco's letters. She writes a quick response and hands it to the owl who is patiently waiting outside. She watches the owl fly away. I must've just missed his message, y/n thinks. Yet still she can't shake the feeling that something is off.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco lets y/n wait for two weeks. Y/n got antsy with every passing day without hearing from him. Eventually, he sends her a letter and proposes a meeting in Windsor Great Park for a stroll and coffee. Y/n is nervous all morning and has to redo her makeup twice after ruining her eyeliner. Again, y/n is the first to arrive. She walks up and down the entrance of the Savill Garden.

"Hey", she suddenly hears behind her. Draco is standing right next to her with a loopy grin on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes, y/n thinks. She smiles at him nonetheless and opens her arms to hug him. Almost hesitantly, Draco hugs her back. It's a bit awkward. "Do you want to go inside?", y/n says and points to the garden. Draco nods. They take the tourist route but there aren't many other people around. It's probably because of the grey clouds that hang low above their heads. They walk along the path between rows of bushes and other plants.

Draco doesn't make an attempt to start a conversation, so y/n does. "So, how's your family? Everything alright? Your letter sounded quite serious.", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs and doesn't answer immediately. "I guess, we're alright. Things haven't been resolved but it will be ok.", he tells her. Y/n nods reassuringly but she feels that Draco does not really believe that last part. "If you don't mind me asking... what happened?", she asks carefully. Draco kicks a stone out of his way. "My dad has been involved in some stuff. He's temporarily contained.", he tells her. Y/n stares at him with big eyes. "Like jail?", she blurts. Draco gives her an angry look. "Yes. My mother did not take it too well.", he replies. "Oh.", is all that y/n manages to say. They walk in silence for a moment. "What about you? How do you take it?", she asks him. Draco shrugs again and does his best to look somewhere far ahead. "Draco...", y/n mumbles and touches his arm. "I'm fine.", he says harshly, "My mother needs all the support she can get. I can't be weak in a situation like this". Y/n steps a bit closer to him and rests her cheek on his arm while taking his hand. "It's not a weakness to feel bad about a situation like that. It only shows how much you care about your parents.", she tells him. Almost instantly, she can feel Draco's shoulders slump down. He turns to her and finally pulls her close. He hides his face in her hair. "I must do everything I can to clear my family's name. One way or another.", he points out. Y/n thinks about this for a moment. "It's not your responsibility. Support your family as much as you can, but don't let the weight of it pull you down.", she replies. Draco shakes his head. "You don't understand... my mother...", he starts. "...is an adult. We're only sixteen, Draco. There's only so much we can do. Somethings we must let the adults handle.", she points out. Draco shakes his head again. "No, my mother can't handle this. I'm the one who has to fix things. I've been chosen.", he tells her. Y/n frowns. "Chosen? By whom? For what?", she asks him. Draco lets go of her. "It doesn't matter. The point is I'm going to handle this. Don't worry.", he says coldly. Draco walks a bit ahead and y/n stares after him. She's got a really bad feeling about this but it's clear that Draco isn't ready to talk about this.

She jogs after him. "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore. We haven't seen each other since Christmas and I really am happy we're spending time together today.", she announces and gives him a bright smile. She holds out her hand to Draco and looks at him expectantly. Draco sighs and then takes her hand. They continue their stroll and y/n tries to distract Draco with silly stories about school and her friends. She updates him on Olivia's situationship and manages to pry some stories about Blaze and quidditch out of Draco. The atmosphere loosens up a bit and soon she finds Draco genuinely smiling again. They wander deeper into the garden and don't notice how the clouds above them get darker and darker. They're laughing about one of y/n's stories when the first drop landed on y/n's cheek. Draco wipes it away carefully. They look up and notice how armageddon is right above them. Within seconds, it's pouring. Draco pulls her close and uses his wand as an umbrella. However, the wind whips raindrops onto their sides. They rush along the path, deeper into the rows of trees ahead of them. They're almost soaked when they finally find shelter in a stone pavilion.

Y/n is shivering but glad there are still some parts of her that are dry. Draco sits down next to her and puts an arm around her. Y/n nuzzles closer into his side. Draco leans his head against hers. They don't speak and when y/n finally looks up, she immediately meets Draco's gaze. He must've been staring at her for a while now. Immediately, he leans close and they meet in a kiss. For a moment, everything outside the pavilion seems to stop existing. Y/n kisses him back feverishly and grabs his collar. Draco's hand is tangled in her hair and his other hand wanders down her side. Y/n presses her upper body closer to his and Draco pulls her onto his lap. They kiss until they can't breathe anymore. Y/n leans her forehead against his as both of them catch their breath. There are no sounds besides the pouring rain outside.

"Draco?", y/n breathes. "Hm?", he mumbles in response. Y/n's heart leaps in her chest. It takes all her courage to say: "I think I love you". Draco leans back and looks at her with surprise in his eyes. Clearly, he didn't expect a confession of love. Immediately, y/n feels embarrassed. She wishes she could take the words back. "Y-you don't have to say it back. I just thought...", she rumbles but doesn't get to finish her sentence. Draco puts his hand onto the back of her head and pulls her lips against his again. He gives her a deep, longing kiss which leaves y/n breathless once again. When he lets go of her, he looks at her longingly and strokes over her cheek. Then he presses a kiss on top of her head and pulls her into a hug. Y/n feels warm and fuzzy inside and she almost forgets that Draco did not return the confession.

They stay in the pavilion until the heavy rain fades into a soft summer drizzle. Only then, they start wandering back to the entrance of the garden. They part ways rather quickly since the rain started again after some point. However, y/n proposes that he should come visit her soon. Her parents will be visiting her grandparents all the way up in Keswick and will be gone for a couple of days. They put y/n under house arrest for the time being (considering what happened last year), but allowed to have a friend over. They probably thought about Olivia but when y/n asked her, Olivia immediately declined saying that y/n simply must invite Draco. Draco is a bit hesitant to accept the invitation and says that he will have to see how things at home. They both decide to write soon.

On her way back to the train station, y/n has mixed feelings. On one hand she's over the moon about meeting Draco finally again, on the other hand, she's also worried about him. Having a father in jail is already troubling but it sounded as if Draco was ready to do anything to fix that. She wonders if that included more than giving a testimony in front of a court. One way or another, he said. She hopes Draco is smart enough to not do anything stupid, or illegal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sixth summer, a few weeks later.

Anxious. That's how y/n feels as she waits for Draco at King's Cross. Y/n and Draco have been writing back and forth for the last couple of weeks. Draco's been really quiet about his father's situation and y/n didn't push too much. However, whenever y/n brought up Draco coming over, he kept saying it probably wouldn't be possible and that too many things were going on. Which clearly indicates that things haven't been resolved. Surprisingly, Draco sent her a letter a few days ago saying that meeting her would be possible after all. Apparently, his mother and his aunt visit a family friend, giving him a chance to slip away. When y/n got Draco's letter saying that he would be visiting after all, she immediately called Olivia who immediately rushed over. Giggling, they wrote lists and prepared the house for what y/n's parents assumed was a sleepover. It also leads to her parents being quite relaxed about leaving y/n alone for a few days.

Right now, y/n is waiting for Draco to arrive at King's Cross. Obviously, Draco does not take a muggle train. He arrives via floo powder somewhere close but they agreed to meet at the station from where y/n would take him home. Y/n nervously scans the crowd in front of her. Suddenly, she feels a tap on her shoulder. "Hey, there pretty girl.", she hears Draco say behind her. When she twirls around, he is mere inches from her face. "Draco!", she laughs and throws her arms around him. Draco almost drops his bag while trying to keep his balance. Y/n quickly retreats. "Sorry!", she says. Draco puts down his bag. "That's alright.", he tells her and pulls her close by her arms. He hugs her close and hides his face in her hair. Y/n's heart skips a beat. When he lets go of her, he looks over his shoulder nervously. Distractedly, he says: "So, uh... is your house close by?". Y/n tries to see what's behind him or what he's looking for but when he turns back to her, she gives him a bright smile. "We'll have to take the bus.", she tells him and takes his hand. Draco sighs behind her. "You don't happen to have a fireplace, do you?", he mumbles. Y/n laughs. "No, sorry! We have central heating.", she says as she pulls him along with him.

While Draco feels visibly nervous in the station, he relaxes once y/n and him have entered the bus. When y/n asks him why, he tells her that there are probably no wizards here who could see them. Y/n nods understandingly. It's a short walk from the bus station to y/n's house. Her house is one of these terraced houses with white, wooden windows and a small front garden. It's nothing special really but her parents had to save up for it for quite some time and they're really proud to call themselves 'homeowners'. Y/n thinks it's a bit ridiculous but then again she's never bought a house and doesn't even know how much it would cost. Y/n pulls out her keys and opens the door.

She holds the door for Draco. "Ladies first. You can put your shoes over there.", she tells him as she quickly pushes him inside. Ever since they made a turn into y/n's street, she's been the one looking over her shoulder. Can't have the neighbours see her sneaking a boy in. She's pretty sure that the nosy old lady from across the street would just love to tell her parents all about that. Y/n quickly closes the door behind her and pulls off her jacket. Draco is standing in the hallway looking around and feeling a bit out of place. Y/n points past him. "Go on, straight through that door. There's the kitchen", she tells him. They enter the kitchen together and y/n quickly puts the kettle on. "C'mon.", she tells him and leads him to the room to the right. It's the living room which has a small conservatory attached to it. It's her mother's favorite room since it's always bright and open. In the middle, there's a large couch with pillows and blankets. On the left is the telly and a coffee table. "It's cozy", Draco notes as y/n leads him to the coach. "Sit down. I'll make the tea.", she tells him as she rushes off back to the kitchen.

She prepares a tray with tea, mugs and some biscuits. When she enters the living room again, Draco still sits in the same position as she left him. I guess he feels a bit awkward, she concludes. After she pours him a cup of tea, she asks him: "So, what do you think? Is this how you imagined muggles to live like?". Draco laughs and rubs his head in embarrassment. "Actually, I'm not sure what I expected. But it's really nice. I like this room.", he says and points to the conservatory. Y/n pulls one of her legs under the other and takes her tea cup. "Hm, you really had no image in your head how I live like?", she asks. Draco shakes his head. "How do you imagine I live like then?", he replies. Y/n thinks about that for a moment. "I guess I imagine a big house, maybe a villa. An old one, maybe Victorian? I imagine a big staircase right when you enter. Old, but classic and high-quality furniture.", she explains. Draco looks at her surprised. "That's actually not that far off.", he tells her. "I can't imagine your room though. I feel like I can imagine your dorm room better than your room at home.", she says. Draco takes a sip from his tea. "Do you want me to describe it?", he asks her. Y/n nods excitedly. He crooks his head. "Let's see. My room is upstairs, in the East Wing. It has a window facing the East as well so that I can see the sunrise every morning. My walls are painted in a greyish-blue. My furniture is black. When you enter the room, you're standing in front of my bed. Opposite the bed is the window and in front of it is my desk. To the left of the desk, is my wardrobe which is always messy and to the right are some shelves with books.", he describes. Y/n tries to imagine the room. In her head, the room is kind of empty besides the furniture Draco described. "Is there anything else in the room?", she asks. Draco names some quidditch equipment and some other tokens that y/n has trouble imagining. Draco tried to explain quidditch to her one time but y/n fails to truly understand the game. Probably, because she's never seen a person riding a broom.

"Would you like to see my room?", y/n proposes and Draco nods. They walk back to the hallway and up the stairs that are on the left. "My room is all the way up, beneath the roof.", she tells him as they climb up the stairs. Y/n's room is the only room on the last floor. When she opens the room, there's her bed to the left and behind the door is her closet. Right in front of the door are three windows. In front of the middle one, is her desk. On the left is a little reading niche and on the right is a dressing table and a cupboard. A chain of lights is strung from one side of the room towards another. Y/n makes some space for Draco to enter. He looks around the room in silence. "So, what do you think?", she asks. "It suits you. I don't know how I'd imagine your room but this fits you perfectly.", he tells her. Y/n giggles and drops onto her bed. "You think so?", she says. Draco nods and turns around in her room before joining her on the bed. Y/n thinks the sight of him in her room is a bit strange. Like he doesn't quite fit into it. He's dressed in black (like always) and her room is dominated by beige and pastel tones. "Yeah, it's bright and warm. And girly. And cozy.", he replies. Y/n snuggles up to him. "You like it?", she asks him. Draco pulls her closer to him. "Yes. Actually, I like your whole house. Everything is very home-ly.", he murmurs and kisses the top of her head. He pulls her back and they fall on top of the comforter of y/n's bed. Draco turns to his side, pulling her closer to him. Y/n takes in his scent and puts her head on his chest, just beneath his head. Draco's hand finds its way into y/n's hair and he scratches the skin of her skull a bit. Y/n feels how the three magical words lay heavy on her tongue again, begging her to speak them out loud once more. She swallows them down quickly, however. She doesn't want to make a fool out of herself once again.

They lay there for a while and y/n is not sure whether or not she may have dozed off a bit. The room's colour faded to grey indicating that the sun was about to go down. Draco stretches next to her and sits up. "Are you hungry?", y/n asks him. Draco shrugs but y/n knows him well enough that that means yes. They end up ordering pizza and watching y/n's favourite movie. Setting up the telly, Draco is fascinated by the technology and asks a bunch of questions about how it works without magic which y/n definitely can't answer. She lets Draco choose a movie afterwards and they spend the evening rotting on the couch. Eventually, the titles roll and y/n sits up stretching. She peeks over to Draco whose eyes are closed. Did he really fall asleep?, she thinks and pokes his cheek. He wrinkles his nose and opens an eye. "Sleepy? Wanna settle for the night?", y/n asks and Draco yawns and nods. They get up and climb up the stairs to y/n's room. After brushing their teeth, they climb into y/n's bed and Draco pulls her close. Y/n leans her head against his and lets her hand rest on his chest. Draco gently strokes over her back and places soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks and her nose. Y/n crooks her head and meets him in a soft kiss. It's slow and sweet. Draco puts his hand into her hair and pulls her face closer to him, deepening the kiss. Y/n's heart starts beating faster. They kiss like this for a bit until Draco rolls her over so that y/n lays flat on her back. Draco hovers over her while continuing to kiss her. Y/n puts her hands behind his neck and one of Draco's hands runs up and down her sides. Y/n feels goosebumps forming all over her body. Draco's hand finds the hem of her shirt. His fingers dip under it, softly circling the skin of her hip. He leans his head back for a moment. "Is this okay with you?", he asks. Y/n nods breathlessly, not trusting her voice to say yes. She's expected it to happen tonight. Hell, she kinda hoped it would. Draco pushes his hand under her shirt exploring the warm, naked skin underneath it. Y/n lets her hands run down his back and pulls his shirt up a bit. Draco sits up for a moment and pulls it over his head. Y/n stares up at him in awe. He looks even more pale than usual with the moonlight hitting his skin the way it does at this moment. She sits up a bit and runs her hand down his chest. Draco gently pulls on the neckline of her shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off as well. Y/n swallows. She's nervous. "We don't-", Draco starts but y/n cuts him off by pulling her shirt off as well. Draco doesn't say or do anything for a few seconds. Then he slowly traces a line from her shoulder over her collarbone down to her chest. He leans forward again, kissing her deeply while finally cupping her chest with his hand. Y/n lets herself fall back on the pillow.

She won't worry about anything tonight. Not about her parents or Draco's parents. About whether or not a wizard and a muggle can be together. By the time Draco's hands wander down to her pants, she has forgotten about most of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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#harry potter #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #wizarding world #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x y/n

[world-of-wales]

THE PRINCESS DIARIES ♚

22 MAY 2023 || RHS CHELSEA FLOWER SHOW 2023

The Princess of Wales attended the Royal Horticultural Society's Chelsea Flower Show preview day to host a special picnic for schoolchildren and encourage budding interests in gardening and the outdoors.

Catherine was joined by children from a number of schools who were participating in the RHS Campaign for Schools Gardening.

The campaign has one core mission: to give children and young people the opportunity to grow and connect with nature. By partnering with schools, educators and youth group leaders, their aim is for as many children as possible to enjoy nature whilst learning about caring for plants. To encourage participation, a range of awards can be achieved.

Following a picnic lunch with the kids under a Chestnut Tree, Catherine spent time at the Samaritans Listening Garden which has been created as a safe space for people to share their struggles.

She also visited Mark Gregory's Savills Garden and spent time chatting with a group of Chelsea Pensioners.

#princess of wales diaries 23 #the princess of wales #princess of wales diaries #princess of wales #british royal family #british royals #royalty #royals #brf #kate middleton #catherine middleton #duchess of cambridge #royal #british royalty #chelsea flower show #chelsea flower show 23 #catherine wales. #22.05.2023 #my gifs #gifs #princess catherine

[thewales]

The Telegraph

Princess of Wales makes surprise appearance at Chelsea Flower Show

The Princess of Wales, had made a surprise appearance at the flower show, where she was joined by a group of pupils from ten London primary schools at its inaugural Children’s Picnic.

The picnic, which is set to become an annual event, was inspired by a conversation the Princess had with the RHS during her last visit in 2019, when she unveiled her Back to Nature Garden and told organisers she felt it would be nice to involve more children.

The Princess, sat down on a picnic blanket with children from St Augustine’s Primary School in Hammersmith, asking them if they were keen gardeners and whether they had the chance to plant things at school.

The children discussed vegetables and herbs and the Princess told them: “There’s a plant that smells like chocolate. I remember my granny showing me that when I was little. It has very dark leaves and you rub it and it smells like chocolate.”

Told the pupils were growing sunflowers at school, she said: “They get so big, don’t they?

“Louis is growing broad beans at school. You put them in a cup and you can see the roots growing. They get big quickly like sunflowers.”

She then joined another group to discuss flowers and plants, admitting that: “Lots of the names are in Latin and I can never remember them.”

She asked the children if they were enjoying the different way of learning and urged them to write to her after the visit so she knows how they can make it better for them next time.

After the picnic, the Princess took small groups of children into three of the show gardens.

They enjoyed the outdoor kitchen at The Savills Garden, a blend of ornamental and edible planting designed by RHS gold medal winner Mark Gregory.

By chance, their visit coincided with that of a group of Chelsea Pensioners who had been invited to enjoy a “plot-to-plate” lunch prepared with ingredients from the potager and walled garden.

“What’s on the menu?” the Princess asked, as the pensioners tucked into chargrilled peas with herbs.

Harry Puttick, who served with the Royal Welsh Fusiliers for 30 years, replied gallantly, “The peas are forgettable, you are not”.

With the cook nearby, he joked afterwards: “I’d better say the peas were wonderful, but it was fantastic to meet the future Queen.”

Gelila, nine, from St Mary’s Church of England primary school, was among those who met the royal visitor.

“When I saw her on TV, I thought she’d be a really posh person but she’s actually really nice,” she said.

Full article for free

[peterpparkrr]

(Not) the same as it was - Ch. 5 | A Bridgerton Series

Series: (Not) the same as it was

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x OFC (Josephine Wescott)

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: A young Anthony and Jo are reunited in the aftermath of Edmund Bridgerton’s death. In 1814, Anthony Bridgerton tries to make amends. 

A/N: We're back! Apologies for the heartbreak in this chapter (but perhaps the angst makes way for a lil something-something?)

previous part // next part

series masterlist

Aubrey Hall, Kent, 1803 

“Oh, Anthony,” Josephine murmured as she embraced Anthony tightly. “I am so sorry.”

Josephine’s family returned to Kent as soon as word came. Mrs. Saville, Jo’s mother, was eager to be by Violet’s side and support her closest friend through this loss. And Jo was desperate to see Anthony. 

Josephine had never experienced a loss. Not one of this magnitude. But she could only imagine that it was devastating for Anthony. She wanted to support him through this grief. They would be sharing their lives together, and she was desperate to prove that she was up for helping Anthony shoulder this burden.

“There are some things that we need to speak of,” Anthony replied.

Jo nodded as she let go of Anthony. She’d barely noticed that Anthony hadn’t truly embraced her in return until she moved to take his arm and realized he hadn’t offered it to her. 

Instead, they walked separately as Anthony led them into the side gardens of the Bridgerton estate. 

“Whatever I can do to help you, Anthony, please, say the word,” Josephine told him as they moved away from the house.

“Yes, exactly,” Anthony replied as he stopped walking, turning to Jo abruptly.

“I cannot marry you.”

Jo merely stared at Anthony in shock.

“I’m so sorry, Jo, believe me, I am, I didn’t intend to string you along,” Anthony continued. “But trust me, this will be better for us both in the long run.”

Jo, for perhaps the first time in her life, did not speak. Her mouth remained uncharacteristically closed as her expression shifted from one of confusion and shock to poorly restrained sadness as she realized this wasn’t some sort of poorly executed joke, nor was it a mere deference of their inevitable marriage. 

He was throwing her off.

“One day you will thank me for this,” Anthony added.

Jo’s head had begun to shake as she still struggled to form words, her thoughts and fears prompting a loose ramble as she tried to understand what was happening.

“No, Anthony, I love you, I- I’ll wait as long as you need, I’ll be patient and when you’re ready then we can-”

“No,” Anthony stated firmly. Harsher than he’d intended to. It felt like a slap across Jo’s face. “I will never marry you.”

“But…,” Jo stuttered.

“I don’t love you,” Anthony told Jo. It was almost impossible for Anthony to get out the lie. But he needed Josephine to let him go. And this would do it. He was certain of it. Even if the barbed words scarred his own mouth as he spat them out.

It would break her heart. And his heart too. But it would save her from a lifetime of regret. From the complete and utter destruction that his mother was currently experiencing. 

She would thank him. One day. When he left this earth and she was still here.

Anthony’s mother was practically comatose. She hadn’t left her chambers since it had happened. She wouldn’t speak. Barely ate. The doctor was still unsure of whether or not the baby would live.

Anthony refused to put Jo through that. 

He loved her, so he needed to let her go.

“I have much to attend to so I will take my leave,” Anthony said as he tried not to look into Jo’s face, to be faced with her silent tears. 

“Goodbye, Jo,” He added before he turned and made his way back to Aubrey Hall, turning his back on her.

And Jo stood in the Bridgerton’s garden, watching Anthony disappear through the door before she finally felt her legs give out from under her as she fell to the ground and a sob broke through her chest.

He had never looked back.

It was weeks later that Anthony and Jo spoke again. Josephine had tried to speak to him at Edmund’s funeral, but Anthony had resoundly ignored her. After that, she’d resigned herself to the fact that Anthony would not change his mind. Not anytime soon. And though her mother would be staying to support Violet, she insisted that Jo and her father needed to return to London. 

Jo had been out on a morning ride when she spotted Anthony out on his own early morning ride. Before it had been improper for the two of them to ride together alone, they’d frequently shared early morning rides through their families' property. 

“My father and I are returning to London, tomorrow,” Josephine called out to Anthony as she cantered her horse toward him. 

“Safe travels,” He replied with a polite nod.

“Do you have anything else you wish to say to me?” Jo asked. She didn’t hide her disbelief. She didn’t want to. And she couldn’t have if she tried. 

She and Anthony had known each other their entire lives. She’d never once expected him to ignore her. To act as if they were strangers.

“Not particularly, is there something you wish for me to say?” Anthony asked.

“No, I suppose not,” Josephine replied with a hiss. 

“Goodbye, Anthony,” She muttered before she urder her horse foward and took off back toward her house. 

Saville House, London, 1814

“Anthony,” Jo stated as she looked up from her correspondence in surprise. She had been so focued on her letter that she’s heard her butler announce someone but hadn’t been listening to the name until she look up to see Anthony Bridgerton standing before her. “What are you doing here?” 

“Lady Wescott,” He greeted her with a small bow.

Anthony hadn’t been to Jo’s family’s London house in over ten years. Not much had changed. It was small and cozy.   

“I felt I owed you an apology,” Anthony told Jo as he stood awkwardly in the middle of he sitting room. “The things that I said yesterday were… unkind.”

“Yes,” Jo replied with a nod of agreement. “They were.”

“And I am sorry,” Anthony replied.

Jo nodded, quietly waiting for him to continue.

“You said things that were unkind as well,” Anthony added when Jo didn’t reply.

“You want me to apologize to you?” Jo asked as her eyebrows shot up.

“Well,” Anthony stammered.

“You are a ridiculous man, Anthony,” Jo replied as she shook her head in disbelief. “After everything you haven’t changed a bit.”

She should have realized that Anthony would expect an apology of his own. He could never uflly own up to his mistakes, why would he start now.

“We both said things that we regret,” Anthony reiterated.

“We? The two of us are not a unit, Anthony, you made certain of that,” Jo muttered as she pressed a hand to the top of her head. “I told you what you needed to hear.”

“We’ve both made mistakes in the past, Jo, and you know that the same as I,” Anthony replied. Why was she being so impossible? If anyone hadn’t changed since they were young, it was Jo. She could never just let things go, could she? The stubborn little minx. 

“We were both foolish and young! You expect me to believe your marriage was a happy one? That you did not regret marrying the Earl?”

“They are hardly the same thing,” Jo hissed as she stood from her desk abruptly. 

He had nearly made the same mistake last night. Trying to act as if she had thrown him over, instead of the other way around. 

“You married someone else!” Anthony shouted at her.

“Because you told me you would never marry me!”

“I had just lost my father!”

“I am keenly aware of that fact!” Jo spat at him. “I could have been patient. I told you as much. That I’d wait as long as you needed. And you told me that we could never be together. That you didn’t love me. So I apologize for not seeing how any of that has changed.”

Anthony fell silent. He’d held his breath without even realizing it as he realized he wasn’t othe only one who seemed to remember their conversations all these years later.

“I do not want to fight with you, Anthony,” Jo finally said with a deep sigh as she finally regained some semblance of calm. “We will never agree on this. That is plainly clear to me now.”

“You cannot pretend that my actions were not a direct result of yours. You forced my hand. Do not expect me to apologize for your own misgivings.” 

“I…I am sorry. At the time…” Anthony trailed off as he tried to explain his teenaged logic. “Well, I thought it was the only thing to do. And some part of you must have agreed because you listened.”

She’d married the earl a few months after they’d left. Obviously, she hadn’t truly meant it when she said she’d wait for him. 

“You broke my heart, Anthony,” Jo replies as she holds onto the back of the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I had to marry. I had no choice.”

Aubrey Parish, Kent, 1803

Her father explained to Jo why her mother had been so set on the season on the carriage ride back to London. 

Jo had a comparable dowry thanks to her mother’s inheritance, but her father’s income could not support her parents and Jo forever. 

She would have to marry. And if Anthony Bridgerton was no longer interested… well, she would have to look elsewhere. Her parents had spared no expense on her season. It would be a struggle to afford another one next year if she couldn’t find a match by the end of this one. 

When they returned to London the news of the spectacular end of Anthony Bridgerton and Josephine Saville’s courtship had already made the rounds twice over. 

The rejection of a man who was now a Viscount had left Josephine adrift. Most of the young men in London saw Anthony’s rejection of her as a final stamp on her rejection as a possible bride. She’d spent the next few weeks standing on the edges of parties and balls. A true wallflower with an empty dance card and a stormy disposition to match.

It wasn’t much later that her father introduced her to Lord Wescott. 

The wedding was set for August. In Kent at the parish church. 

The last time she had been in the church had been for Edmund Bridgerton’s funeral only two months earlier. 

The wedding felt similarly somber in Josephine’s heart.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if Anthony would attend. The Bridgertons had all been invited. Violet was still unwell. But she’d seen Benedict in town when she’d arrived and he’d told her the children would attend. Neither one of them spoke of Anthony. 

A part of her imagined that she would walk down the aisle and Anthony would burst into the church and object. 

That he would rescue her. 

Because if he had ever truly loved her? He would stop the wedding. 

But that didn’t happen. 

Josephine Saville walked down the aisle arm in arm with her father and she walked back down the aisle Lady Josephine Wescott. 

It was arm in arm with her new husband that she saw him. As they were walking down the aisle she saw him, standing in between little Eloise and Frannie, staring back at her with a polite smile, clapping along with everyone else as she set off to start her new life.

And it was in that moment that Jo’s heart well and truly broke.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Series #not the same as it was #(not) the same as it was series #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton series #anthony bridgerton x original character #anthony bridgerton x ofc #bridgerton ofc #bridgerton original character #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton drabble #bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton drabble #anthony bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton x josephine

[cycles-seasons]

#nature photography #nature #nature photographer #outdoors #photographers on tumblr #stillness speaks #spring #savill garden #england #mother nature #presence #beauty #bokeh

[scotianostra]

Nofrthfield House, Prestonpans.

As I said in the last post about Hamilton House, it wasn't the oldest property in this historic part of "The Pans" Check the lintel in the second pic, it reads 1611- but, this house in some form was around a bit earlier than this, in 1607  it was sold by The Hamiltons,  to Joseph Marjoribanks, a burgess of Edinburgh. Marjorybanks extended and "embellished" the house, and this work was finished on the date above the door. Around 1700 it was sold and has went through a number of owners through the centuries, but has been occupied, apart from a short period around the turn of the 21st century constantly for over 400 years. Northfield House was put on the market in 2019 for a cool £1 million.  I can't see if it has actually been sold as yet, but it is no longer on the estate agents web page. Savills, who marketed as a “historic family home” of “immense character”, with “intricate period detail” and “excellent potential for a self-contained granny or staff flat”. The current owners have renovated Northfield House over the past 18 years, which included rebuilding the chimney stacks, overhauling the roof and lead where required, repairing the harling and repainting and replacing the gutters and downpipes. The house has, a Hallway, Drawing Room, Dining Room, 7 Bedrooms, Studio, 2 Bathrooms, 2 WCs, Utility Room, Family Kitchen. Cloakroom/Original kitchen, Cellar, 2 Store Rooms, Old Kitchen, Garden Room and a Coach House. I know you will all be dying to have a wee look inside, well hit the link and enjoy  https://assets.savills.com/properties/GBEDSCEDT170135/EDT170135_EDT18000795.PDF

#Scotland #scottish #east lothian #prestonpans #history #pproperty #My Pics

[greeneyed-thestral]

PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN LONDON OR HAVE BEEN THERE!

Hi! I'll soon be in London for a few days, for the very first time. My idea is not to really plan anything, I just wanna walk around and see what this city is like. I pinned down some places I wanna visit (inspired mostly by The Beatles, Sherlock, Good Omens, Doctor Who and other british series).

Could you tell me if I'm missing something or if there are things I should avoid? Really, any do's and don'ts, I would really appreciate it. + Big Ben + Broadgate Tower + Buckingham Palace + Carlton House Terrace + Harrods + King's Cross + London Eye + Leinster Gardens + Piccadilly Circus + Reform Club + Savini at Criterion + Scotland Yard + Southbank Skate Space + Speedy's Sandwich Bar & Cafe + St Bartholomew's Hospital + St James the Less Church + St Paul's Cathedral + The Ritz Restaurant + Tower of London + Westminster + British Museum + Lincoln's Inn Library + Madame Tussauds + National Gallery + Natural History Museum + Battersea Park + Crystal Palace Park + Finsbury Park + Hyde Park + St. James's Park + Tavistock Square Gardens + West End + Royal National Theatre + Shakespeare's Globe + The Old Vic + Young Vic + Camden Town + Chinatown + Covent Garden + More London + Shad Thames + Soho + 44 Eaton Square + Berkeley Square + Russell Square + Trafalgar Square + Tower Bridge + Waterloo Bridge + Westminster Bridge + 3 Savile Row + 10 Downing St + 187N Gower St + 221B Baker St + Abingdon St + Berwick St + Whitfield St + Abbey Rd. + Cardwell Rd + Crayford Rd + Heddon St + Hornsey Rd + Eastfields Ave Also, some questions: - What's the weather like now? What should I wear? - Which are the districts I should avoid? - Should I be worried about public transport? - Where and when should I have afternoon tea? - Can I access the British Museum just to have tea/eat? - Any other suggestions on where to eat? Thank you so so much to whoever answers, either under this post or in private! 🙏

#london #london tips #uk #united kingdom

[aroundtheworldwithphillyfogg]

Meet Phileas Fogg

Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. People said that he resembled Byron—at least that his head was Byronic; but he was a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without growing old.

Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was a Londoner. He was never seen on ’Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the counting-rooms of the “City”; no ships ever came into London docks of which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln’s Inn, or Gray’s Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen’s Bench, or the Ecclesiastical Courts. He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he a merchant or a gentleman farmer. His name was strange to the scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London Institution, the Artisan’s Association, or the Institution of Arts and Sciences. He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious insects.

Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.

The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple enough.

He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit. His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current, which was always flush.

Was Phileas Fogg rich? Undoubtedly. But those who knew him best could not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last person to whom to apply for the information. He was not lavish, nor, on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it quietly and sometimes anonymously. He was, in short, the least communicative of men. He talked very little, and seemed all the more mysterious for his taciturn manner. His daily habits were quite open to observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that he had always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly puzzled.

Had he travelled? It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear to have an intimate acquaintance with it. He often corrected, with a few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so often did events justify his predictions. He must have travelled everywhere, at least in the spirit.

It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself from London for many years. Those who were honoured by a better acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend to have ever seen him anywhere else. His sole pastimes were reading the papers and playing whist. He often won at this game, which, as a silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities. Mr. Fogg played, not to win, but for the sake of playing. The game was in his eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless, unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.

Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends, which is certainly more unusual. He lived alone in his house in Saville Row, whither none penetrated. A single domestic sufficed to serve him. He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed. He never used the cosy chambers which the Reform provides for its favoured members. He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row, either in sleeping or making his toilet. When he chose to take a walk it was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported by twenty red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue painted windows. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club—its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy—aided to crowd his table with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in dress coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters, of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, and his cinnamon-spiced claret; while his beverages were refreshingly cooled with ice, brought at great cost from the American lakes.

If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that there is something good in eccentricity.

He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his face rather pale, his teeth magnificent. His countenance possessed in the highest degree what physiognomists call “repose in action,” a quality of those who act rather than talk. Calm and phlegmatic, with a clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer. Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.

He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was economical alike of his steps and his motions. He never took one step too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or agitated. He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always reached his destination at the exact moment.

He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.

#Around the world in 80 days #october 1st #Phileas fogg #around the world in 80 dailies

[grandmaster-anne]

Waste not, want not

By HRH The Princess Royal | Published 29 July 2020

EVERY year, month and day, I realise how fortunate and privileged I am to have grown up and spent most of my life in the countryside. It’s not only the space, appreciating the seasons, the wildlife, the plant life, the arable crops and the livestock, but, most importantly, it’s the people who live and work there and understand the complexity of their environment. I was equally fortunate that both my parents had a love and understanding of the natural world through their own experiences. Perhaps even more so for my father when, during his rather disjointed young life, he ended up at school at Gordonstoun and was introduced to the wilds of Scotland, both land and sea. Scotland had its influence on my mother, too, as did the big skies of Norfolk, and the huge fields and marshes of the Sandringham Estate. Windsor’s Home Park and Great Park were a constant presence for her, as they were for all of us. They had horses, dairies, hens, pigs—you could never be bored as a child. Windsor was and is a haven of peace, although not so quiet since the growth of air travel—until the lockdown.

Superficially, not much has changed since I was young; the Jersey herd is still there, although the cows now enjoy a robotic parlour. There are Sussex cattle in the Great Park and the crops are a different mix, but the forest is still there, as are ponds and wet areas, the Savill Gardens and Frogmore House Gardens. Buildings and skills that the Prince Consort would have recognised.

Prince Albert’s influence is seen so often at the forefront of research and practical application, not least in agriculture and building design. His model farm at Windsor, for instance, and nearly all the buildings at Balmoral improved the use of space and integrated more efficient use and better distribution of water. My father was impressed by Prince Albert’s approach to forward-thinking and sustainable developments and has added his own understanding to encourage others to build on the knowledge of their predecessors. The Royal Commission of 1851 was set up by the Prince Consort after the Great Exhibition to build on its success of creativity, innovation and trade. When my father was its president, he oversaw an extraordinary investment in talent across the whole spectrum of research, including the science and practice of agriculture and sustainable land use. I now have the privilege of being its president, which also reminds me of the wealth of knowledge that I have been exposed to throughout my life and the part my family has played in growing that knowledge.

Prince Philip has added his own unique talents by being very well briefed, then engaging and bringing together all interests that are part of the countryside. He is a very hard act to follow, but I’m grateful for the time he gave us and the example he set us.

It is only later in life that you realise how much you have been exposed to and how much you have absorbed from your early years. We were taught to observe and question, to be open minded, to understand differences, to treat every person as an individual with their own skills and to remember there is very little that is completely new under the sun. We are where we are because our ancestors not only survived by living off the land, water and air, but also innovated ways of doing so more easily and successfully; so successfully that a shortage of food seems a distant threat for much of the western world. However, although we may be growing more, the access to and distribution of good-quality foods is still a challenge.

We are living through a real global pandemic that is affecting literally every person’s life in some way, even if they and their countries have barely suffered directly from Covid-19. The effect on global food supplies through the restrictions on transport and logistics (see page 124) should raise our awareness of the vulnerability of the modern—just in time—demand-and-supply approach and highlight the strengths of local production and markets. Change will require all land users to work even more closely together to understand the most appropriate and least damaging way to increase production of crops and livestock that best suit our ground conditions and weather. It also means finding the right space and access for those who wish to enjoy the non-producing areas.

The restrictions that Covid-19 has placed on the entire population have accentuated the pressure between town and country. However, it has also shown that, thanks to historic houses, caravan parks, national parks, forestry enterprises, riding and cycling trails, rambling routes and assorted types of accommodation, access was quite well catered for already as an important contributor to the rural economy. The pandemic has highlighted the number of people and jobs that are crucial to that economy, too, be it the hospitality sector, conservation projects or the farming sector, such as the harvesting of many crops, fruit and vegetables and the care of livestock, especially sheep-shearing. Those jobs are still hard physical work that also need skills to achieve the standards that the buying public expect.

Technology is already making an impact in these areas and will make a bigger impact as the innovators and practitioners work out what is adding value and efficiency, without doing any more damage to the environment. Education and training play a big part in the shared understanding, success and enjoyment of the countryside. Our knowledge is derived from experience, evaluation and development and we need that information to be readily available. The royal agricultural societies, the county agricultural shows and societies (see page 120) —which are often the gatekeepers to public enquiry and understanding—the further-education colleges and universities that still maintain links with the rural economy (see page 128) and the people who live and work in the countryside are more important than ever, especially as there is no such thing as an unskilled job.

Research has made progress, but single-issue research must never lose sight of the overall subject. I mean that, for instance, one type of crop, with very specific qualities, may not be the best crop for every environment. Nature’s ability to adapt is, on the whole, better than humans or, indeed, computer-model-driven versions. How do we combine the best of both, the single-issue expertise and the need for a holistic view? Hopefully, by recognising that practitioners, residents and consumers can all access accurate information, education and training so that they can contribute to the debate and the research on best practice for the countryside.

How do I define best practice? Understanding how to work better with local conditions and working with Nature, which could be by using very traditional methods. Yet also using technology to support farming and related jobs, as well as extending the employment opportunities to those who would rather stay in the countryside. Not everybody does, which is just as well, as there is already a shortage of affordable houses in most areas (see page 118).

One of my pleas for best practice is quality, appropriate housing of the right type and the right numbers in the right places. Housing for local families that are priced out of the market; for young, single people who would like to stay and work in their home village or area; young families; and retired people who were born in the village and would like to return home. All of them could make the difference to having a viable school, shop or pub in the village. Importantly, these housing developments should be small and remain in the control of the local parish council, either for rent or shared ownership—preferably small because of two other best-practice issues: waste and energy.

Waste—produced by humanity and the way it chooses to live—that is not dealt with appropriately is up there with not understanding the value of small housing developments built to last as a major irritation to me! If you want to help the planet, controlling our waste is something everyone can do and it will make a difference. We will always produce waste, however efficient we become, so we must get better at reducing it at every stage and dealing with it better at the end. That means making things such as clothes, furniture, vehicles and supermarket trolleys that can be recycled safely and economically and not dumped on someone else’s ground. Did I mention that fly-tipping is another major irritation to me?

There are some perfectly good waste and recycling systems out there already, including anaerobic digesters and waste-to-energy plants. I would hope we can be more innovative and local in the way we deal with our rubbish to encourage everybody that it is worth making the effort to put waste in the right places, recycle more and have the confidence that it will make a difference.

Everything about life today seems to be about convenience and waste is seen as inconvenient; we must help make it more convenient to deal with. Raising the profile of the country code might help, especially as the post-coronavirus getaway to the country seems to have resulted in an increase of littering and vandalism.

Reliable energy supplies are critical to everybody and renewable energy created by innovative and local solutions will be a crucial part of the networks. Rural areas could be even more self-sufficient, especially if much of the equipment is to be electric. Replacing fossil-fuel generators has not been easy, but covering the countryside in solar panels and windmills isn’t really the answer, either. Using water better, using waste from crops, using waste from woodlands and the ability to store energy, possibly as hydrogen, can all help, but will require a more flexible grid and, therefore, the technology to make that work. Small nuclear reactors could have their place, but perhaps there is not the space to pursue that now.

In order to make rural life less isolated, even 5G coverage will not solve the problem of transport for farmers, shops, schools, pubs and the people who want to live and work in or from the rural environment. You need logistics to travel, to distribute, to deliver and to collect. Many businesses, good ideas and ambitions have failed because there are too few of any of the above and they are too expensive.

The need for appropriate vehicles and qualified drivers has not made it any easier to service the rural areas. I gained my HGV licence in 1974 after, I think, a two-hour test, all driving, starting with the handling test, which meant that, if you touched a cone, you were unlikely to pass. Then you spent the rest of the time driving—in my case, mostly in Reading. There was no theory test and, in relative terms, it didn’t cost very much. Now, it is a serious commitment in terms of time and money, which has resulted in a real shortage of HGV drivers. This, and the requirement for qualifications for nearly every other sort of vehicle, has made it even more difficult to maintain services. The needs of the rural communities during the coronavirus lockdown has underlined the importance of those people and their roles. We would do well to build on that experience.

I have lived at Gatcombe for more than 42 years (see page 80). We were not looking for a farm, but it has been a real privilege to try to work with what we have. Ours is an organic, extensive grass enterprise, usually complicated by running the horse-trial championships in early August. The woodland is a real mix of trees—mostly beeches, but huge numbers of ash of all ages. Who knows how many will survive, but I feel the naturally selected mix could be an important part of the answer.

Perhaps mix is the key. I write as a classic ‘Jack of all trades’, who has the opportunity to listen and engage with the masters of their subjects. Does the little knowledge I pick up make me dangerous or well informed?

Well, some of my information comes from COUNTRY LIFE , a publication that continues to reflect and promote all aspects of rural existence. This week’s edition has generously reflected some of my interests and those of people I believe are making a real difference. I hope the edition will leave you positively optimistic about our country’s country life.

#princess anne #princess royal #country life #guest edit #article #anne's article

[skippyv20]

The BBC has tonight started showing a four part drama about Jimmy Saville, probably the worst paeodophile Britain has ever known, who abused hundreds of young people including vulnerable hospital patients.  Prince Charles was such a great friend of his that he proposed Saville as a godfather for Prince Harry.  PC’s private secretary, Sir Edward Adene, who like many people had heard rumours of JS’s vile behaviour, was so shocked that he was found wandering the gardens of BP in a distressed state.  

Credit, Irish Mirror

Oh wow…thank you🐼

#submission