#B&B Romanesque

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The 1889 Hull Castle, a stone Romanesque home in Fort Wayne, IN, is a "project house," b/c it's not finished. But, it's mostly finished, and move-in ready. It has some water damage on the 2nd level from a fire in August 2020 and there's an unfinished part of the 3rd level. 4bds, 3ba, 4,419 sq ft, $949,900.

The large entrance hall is completely refurbished and has a beautiful staircase with a bulit-in bench.

The current owners installed this gold ceiling. Not sure if I like it.

It looks like they may have framed this panel that was removed from somewhere in the house.

Look at the beautiful details under the stairs.

Original stained glass window and look at the gorgeous turned spindles.

The current owners like blue and re-faced the fireplace in blue tile.

The new owner can decorate. The rooms are good to go.

Beautiful original lighting.

They re-did the sitting room in a basic way.

The dining room is too modern. It has pocket doors, that they left natural wood, but they painted all the other wood white. The inlaid flooring looks new.

It has a nice fireplace, but I'm not sure that I like the big mirror. I'm thinking that maybe they shouldn't have done any remodeling.

This is so cute. A sun room with floor to ceiling windows and they left the wood original. Look at how nice the natural wood door looks.

Unfortunately, the new owner will probably come in and finish the kitchen with modern cabinetry, etc., but I think it's perfect, so far.

They really modernized the back stairs. It needs some lovely wallpaper and paint. Again, they painted over the wood.

This is one of the bedrooms. The floor is fine and the wood is intact. I don't think it needs anything but some brighter decor.

The back porch is so pretty.

This is a beautiful terrace on the 3rd level. The 3rd level isn't finished, but the tower room is, so that's a big plus. I wish there was photo of it.

It looks like there's an apt. behind the garage. All the listing says is that there's a 2nd level.

The 3 car garage is in perfect condition.

The yard and gardens are very pretty and look at the nice fencing. This home doesn't need much more work and will be worth well over $1m. 9,147 sq ft lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/721-W-Wayne-St-Fort-Wayne-IN-46802/73113142_zpid/

[uwmspeccoll]

Wood Engraving Wednesday

Geri Waddington

In 2007, British wood engraver Geri Waddington (b. 1953) retraced Eric Gill's transformative visit to Chartres 100 years earlier. Waddington writes that on his first trip to Chartres in the spring of 1907, Gill. . .

. . . experienced 'the thrill and tremble of heart' on catching his first glimpse of the cathedral's North Transept through the little alley between the houses of the old town. . . . One hundred years later I retraced his steps and found the spot; turning a corner the view is suddenly filled with the blazing glory of the rose window soaring up full of light and grace through the gap between the rough stones of the mediaeval houses. The contrast of shadow and confinement with light and expansiveness all made from the same stone just asked to be engraved.

Waddington's journey took her further south through the Dordogne, "now spotting Romanesque churches everywhere, the focal points of small villages . . . or sitting almost alone beyond fields of sunflowers."

"It was not only the churches that attract attention down there; the endless permutations of vernacular windows and paint-weathered shutters suggested an approach using lino blocks for added colour."

Her journey took her "as far south as the abbey at Moissac, with the earliest cloister of carved narrative capitals, completed in 1100 and almost defining the Romanesque style with an abundance of invention and decoration."

"The statue of the prophet Jeremiah in the portal of the abbey expresses such tenderness that it speaks as directly now as it must have done when made nearly nine hundred years ago."

Waddington's memoir, "In Search of Angels: from Mr. Gill to Saint Jacques," along with these original wood-engraved prints were published in Matrix 27 (Winter 2007), pp. 31-33, printed at John and Rosalind Randle’s Whittington Press in Risbury, Herefordshire, England in an edition of 680 copies, another donation from our late friend Jerry Buff (1931-2025).

View more posts with engravings by Geri Waddington.

View more posts with wood engravings!

[slut4calum]

Hasanabi: Teacher's Assistant

Halfway through junior year, and the finish line was starting to shimmer in the distance. Just push through this final year, the mountain of exams, the stress-fueled ramen nights, and then it would be freedom. Freedom from textbooks, freedom from professors' drone-like lectures, freedom from the constant pressure to prove yourself. But for now, there was only the present, the slightly stale air of lecture hall B-12, and the prospect of three more hours grappling with the intricacies of 17th-century French literature.

My first class, European Romanticism, was familiar territory. Professor Dubois, with his tweed jacket and perpetually surprised eyebrows, was practically an old friend after two semesters of dissecting Byron's angst and Wordsworth's musings on daffodils. The next two classes, however, were uncharted waters: Medieval Art History, where I desperately hoped the professor wouldn't quiz us on the difference between Romanesque and Gothic arches, and Advanced Genetics, where the potential for complex Punnett squares already had my head spinning.

By the time I stumbled into my fourth class, PSC 419: The Political Effects of Globalization, I was ready for a nap. But the exhaustion evaporated the moment I saw Dr. Kemp. He was tiny, a sprite of a man with twinkling eyes and a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. As he outlined the syllabus, his voice was a warm rumble, like well-aged whiskey swirling in a glass. And then, the door creaked open, and my heart did a triple flip.

"Ah, Mr. Piker," Dr. Kemp welcomed, "Nice of you to join us. Class, this is your TA, Hasan. Hasan is working on his PhD in political science here, Hasan, what are your office hours this semester?"

The man who walked in was…well, breathtaking. Dark hair tousled by invisible hands, eyes that held the glint of mischief and intelligence, and a smile that could charm the sunrise. He cleared his throat.

"Uh, yeah, pretty packed schedule this semester, so just email me if you need to meet up, and we'll find a time."

That was it? No booming baritone introductions, no grand plans for interactive seminars? Just a mumbled email address and an evasion of office hours? Disappointment flickered across my face, quickly masked by a cough. Dr. Kemp chuckled.

"First day and already zoning out, Ms. Y/N? We have a lot to cover this semester, globalization is a tangled web, isn't it?"

He launched into a whirlwind explanation of the coursework, detailing everything from intricate trade agreements to the rise of populist movements. I tried to focus, tried to decipher the complexities of cultural homogenization and international power struggles, but Hasan kept drifting into my vision. His hand resting on the lectern, the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the playful glint in his eyes as he met Dr. Kemp's gaze. My mind was a chaotic dance floor, Professor Kemp's words mere background music to the silent symphony of possibilities playing out in my head.

The rest of the class passed in a blur. Charts of global trade flows morphed into Hasan's sculpted jawline, intricate political maps became sketches of his smile. Finally, the class ended, the sweet release from academia and its alluring distractions. As everyone shuffled out, I lingered, hoping for a chance encounter, a stolen glance, anything to break the spell before it consumed me whole. But Hasan was already gone, swallowed by the labyrinthine corridors of the university, leaving behind only the faint echo of his name and the intoxicating image of him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes holding mine for a single, lingering moment.

My legs finally stumbled out of lecture hall B-12, the weight of the day settling on my shoulders like a damp backpack. My notebooks bulged with scribbled notes and half-formed insights, remnants of the academic marathon I'd just run. Exhaustion tugged at my eyelids, urging them shut, but the phantom heat of Hasan's gaze still pulsed beneath my skin. Could his name become a mantra tonight, a whispered incantation against the inevitable sleep that beckoned? Would I dream of power dynamics and trade imbalances, or would his face, framed by that dark, tousled hair, be the only image etched in my subconscious mind?

Dinner in the cafeteria was a blur of lukewarm pasta and whispered gossip about the new TA. My roommates peppered me with questions, but my answers were mumbled monosyllables, my attention already caught in the web of possibilities Hasan had woven around me. Even the rhythmic thrum of the washing machine sounded like a heartbeat, my chest pounding a primal rhythm against my ribs.

Finally, curled up in my bed, surrounded by the familiar chaos of textbooks and half-eaten candy wrappers, I felt a strange mix of exhilaration and trepidation. Junior year might be about finishing lines, but with Hasan lurking on the horizon, the only finish line I could see was the one blurring the edges of my consciousness, pulling me toward a dream where textbooks and exams dissolved into the intoxicating haze of his smile. One thing was certain – this semester, at least, was going to be anything but smooth sailing.

The Tuesday morning sun peeked through my blinds, but the usual jolt of caffeine-fueled urgency was missing. Today, with only CJ 290: Criminal Theories on my schedule, the pressure valve hissed a sigh of relief. Professor Evans, a woman with a penchant for dissecting motives and questioning morals, was never one for early morning torture sessions. I lingered in bed, savoring the luxury of stolen minutes, my mind a tangled mess of globalization, trade agreements, and, more persistently, Hasan's captivating eyes.

My day unfolded in a leisurely waltz, devoid of the usual academic frenzied pace. I drifted through a bookstore, getting lost in the labyrinth of dusty spines and the promise of new worlds, then indulged in a leisurely lunch in the park, watching squirrels chase each other across the sun-dappled grass. But even the chirping birds and rustling leaves couldn't drown out the persistent hum of his name in my head. He was a phantom presence, whispering possibilities around every corner, making the mundane seem vibrant with anticipation.

As dusk began to paint the sky in hues of orange and purple, I found myself drawn to the familiar warmth of the campus dining hall. My heart did a somersault when my gaze landed on a familiar figure seated at a corner table. It was Hasan, his head bent over a book, his brows furrowed in concentration. My breath hitched, and I instinctively ducked behind a towering stack of trays, my heart pounding a frantic tattoo against my ribs. Should I approach him? Strike up a conversation about trade agreements or political philosophers? But the words caught in my throat, choked by the sudden shyness that bloomed in my chest. I watched him from the shadows, a voyeur to his book-filled world, content with simply stealing glances of his coffee-sipping lips and the way the light played on his dark hair.

He was gone by the time I gathered the courage to emerge from my self-imposed exile. The dining hall was bustling, the hum of conversation washing away the quiet intimacy of my stolen observation

. I left with a pang of disappointment, the taste of his unspoken presence lingering on my tongue, a sweet-sour mystery I couldn't quite decipher. As I lay in my bed, I couldn't help but think of him. His tall, muscular body, piercing brown eyes, and the way his voice commanded attention in the lecture hall. I had been his student for the past semester and every time I saw him, I couldn't help but feel a surge of desire.

I know it's wrong. He's my TA, someone in a position of authority. But the more I tried to suppress my thoughts, the more they consumed me. I finally gave in to my fantasies. I closed my eyes and imagined him in my bed, his hands roaming my body, his lips on mine. I could feel the heat between my thighs as I thought of him undressing me, his touch igniting every nerve in my body. I ran my hands over my breasts, imagining his lips on them, sucking and flicking my nipples. My breathing became more rapid as I thought of him trailing kisses down my stomach, until he reached the place I craved him the most. I could practically feel his tongue teasing me, his fingers exploring every inch of me. My own fingers moved faster as I imagined him entering me, making me moan his name.

As I reached my peak, I couldn't help but scream out his name. I collapsed back onto my bed, panting and flushed. But my mind couldn't stop there. I needed more, I needed him. I imagined him holding me close, whispering dirty words in my ear as he continued to pleasure me. I wanted him to be rough, to dominate me. And in my mind, he did just that. That night, as I drifted off to sleep, the shadows behind my eyelids danced with the image of his smile, a silent promise of encounters to come, of a semester forever teetering between textbooks and stolen glances, between academic pursuits and the intoxicating allure of a TA with a name that was becoming my own personal forbidden fruit.

The Wednesday morning sun rose, casting a golden hue over the campus as I made my way to my first class of the day, EN 370: European Romanticism. Professor Dubois, with his tweed jacket and perpetually surprised eyebrows, greeted us with his usual enthusiasm, diving into the depths of Shelley and Keats with fervor. But my mind wandered, drifting back to Hasan and the tantalizing possibilities he represented. HY 346: Medieval Art History followed, the lecture hall echoing with the professor's passionate discourse on the intricacies of cathedral architecture. Yet, as I scribbled notes on flying buttresses and pointed arches, my thoughts strayed once more to the enigmatic figure of Hasan, his presence a magnetic pull that defied the boundaries of the classroom. BIO 243: Advanced Genetics brought with it the complexities of Punnett squares and genetic inheritance, but even as I grappled with alleles and phenotypes, Hasan's image lingered in the recesses of my mind, a persistent whisper of distraction amidst the academic clamor.

Finally, the moment I had been waiting for arrived as I stepped into PSC 419: The Political Effects of Globalization. Dr. Kemp's warm rumble filled the room, a soothing undertone that hinted at the depth of knowledge and experience lying just beneath the surface. "Good morning, everyone," he began, his voice carrying the weight of years spent navigating the intricate web of global politics. "Today marks the beginning of a journey into the heart of one of the most pressing issues of our time: globalization."

As he spoke, each word seemed to carry with it a sense of urgency, a call to action in the face of a rapidly changing world. "Globalization," he continued, "has reshaped the political landscape in ways we are only beginning to comprehend. From the rise of transnational corporations to the erosion of national sovereignty, its effects are far-reaching and profound." His words hung in the air, a silent invitation to delve deeper into the complexities of this modern-day phenomenon.

But even as Dr. Kemp expounded on the intricacies of trade agreements and cultural exchange, my attention was inexorably drawn to Hasan. His presence at the front of the room was like a magnet, pulling my gaze away from the professor's lecture and into a world of tantalizing possibilities. I found myself captivated by the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his lips curved into a half-smile as he listened to Dr. Kemp's words. I couldn't stop staring at Mr. Piker, wondering if he knew what I had done the night before. I tried to focus on the lecture, but my mind kept drifting back to the thoughts from the previous night.

"Hasan," Dr. Kemp's voice broke through my reverie, bringing me back to the present moment. "Would you care to share your thoughts on the role of globalization in shaping political ideologies?" Hasan's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken connection that crackled between us. "Uh, yes, of course," he replied, his voice steady despite the hint of surprise that flickered across his features. "Globalization has undoubtedly had a profound impact on political ideologies," he began, his gaze sweeping across the room. "It has facilitated the spread of ideas and information on an unprecedented scale, challenging traditional notions of sovereignty and identity." His words were measured, his tone confident as he delved into the complexities of the topic at hand. And yet, despite his obvious expertise, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the man behind the TA facade.

As Hasan spoke, I found myself hanging on his every word, caught in the magnetic pull of his presence. His voice was like a siren's song, drawing me deeper into the labyrinth of his thoughts and ideas. I couldn't tear my gaze away, couldn't shake the feeling that we were connected in some inexplicable way, bound together by the invisible threads of fate.

The rest of the class passed in a blur, the minutes slipping by unnoticed as Hasan and Dr. Kemp dissected the nuances of globalization and its political ramifications. I scribbled notes furiously, my mind racing to keep pace with the torrent of information flooding the room. But amidst the chaos of academia, one thing remained constant: Hasan's presence, a beacon of light in the murky depths of my subconscious.

As the class ended, I felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment wash over me. Relief that I could finally escape the confines of the lecture hall, but disappointment that I would have to wait until next week to see Hasan again. I lingered for a moment, watching as he gathered his belongings and made his way to the front of the room. Our eyes met briefly, a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered. And then, just like that, he was gone, leaving me to navigate the swirling currents of my thoughts alone.

As I made my way back to my dorm, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, that a door had been opened to a world of possibilities I had never dared to explore. Hasan had awakened something within me, a hunger for knowledge and connection that transcended the boundaries of the classroom. And as I lay in bed that night, the echo of his voice still ringing in my ears, I knew that this semester would be unlike any other, a journey into the unknown with Hasan as my guide.

Two weeks passed in a whirlwind of lectures, study sessions, and stolen glances. Despite my best efforts to focus on my studies, Hasan's enigmatic presence continued to linger in the back of my mind, a constant distraction amidst the academic chaos. But as the days flew by, the impending exam in PSC 419 loomed larger and larger on the horizon, a stark reminder of the need to buckle down and prepare.

The next time the class met, the atmosphere crackled with nervous energy. Dr. Kemp's warm rumble filled the room as he handed out the exam papers, his eyes flickering with a mixture of anticipation and gravity. "Alright, class, you’ll have 50 minutes to complete this exam," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You may begin."

As the minutes ticked by, the rustle of papers and the scratch of pencils on paper filled the air, each stroke a testament to weeks of diligent preparation and late-night cramming sessions. I kept getting distracted by Hasan sitting at the front of the room, his gaze flicking across the rows of students, no doubt looking for any signs of cheating. Every time our eyes met, I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling in my chest.

Despite my nerves, I managed to focus on the exam, my mind racing to recall the intricacies of globalization and its political effects. But as I flipped through the pages, answering each question to the best of my ability, doubt crept in. Had I studied enough? Had I missed any crucial details? The uncertainty gnawed at me, a constant companion as the seconds ticked by.

As I gathered my belongings and made my way out of the lecture hall, a sense of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. The weight of Hasan's gaze lingered on me, a silent reminder of the unspoken tension that simmered between us.

Friday came, and I anxiously awaited the exam results, a knot of apprehension tightening in my stomach. When Dr. Kemp finally handed back the papers, my heart sank as I saw the red mark glaring back at me. Hasan had failed me. Confusion and frustration swirled in my mind as I scanned through my answers, unable to comprehend where I had gone wrong.

Desperate for answers, I sought out a classmate to compare notes. To my disbelief, our answers aligned perfectly. Each question meticulously answered, every concept grasped with precision. With newfound resolve, I confronted Hasan, armed with evidence of my innocence.

Summoning every ounce of courage, I made my way to Hasan's office hours, determined to confront him about the unjust grade. As I entered his office, the air seemed charged with tension, the weight of our unspoken conflict hanging heavy between us. Hasan's eyes met mine, but there was no warmth in his gaze, only a guarded wariness that sent a chill down my spine.

I launched into my argument, laying out the evidence of my innocence with a conviction born of righteous indignation. But instead of engaging in a rational discourse, Hasan's demeanor grew increasingly defensive, his rebuttals growing more vehement with each passing moment. It was as if he were grasping at straws, desperate to deflect blame and avoid accountability for his actions.

As the minutes ticked by, it became painfully clear that Hasan had no intention of acknowledging his mistake, let alone rectifying it. His refusal to even entertain the possibility of an error left me feeling helpless and betrayed, a pawn in his reckless game of academic manipulation.

But then, as I prepared to leave, Hasan's tone shifted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down my spine. "There might be another way to resolve this," he said, his eyes locking with mine in a knowing gaze. My heart raced as I realized the implication of his words, the sudden surge of desire mingling with the lingering anger and frustration.

In that moment, I saw an opportunity to turn the tables, to reclaim control over the situation and emerge victorious. The thought of using my newfound leverage to secure a better grade both thrilled and terrified me, the line between right and wrong blurring in the heat of the moment.

With a tentative nod, I accepted Hasan's proposition, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins as I realized the power I held in my hands. As we drew closer, the air crackling with anticipation, I knew that this was a gamble I was willing to take, consequences be damned. For in that fleeting moment of forbidden desire, I saw not only a chance to right a wrong but also a glimpse of the intoxicating allure of surrendering to temptation.

With a sense of both trepidation and excitement, I agreed to Hasan's proposition, feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. As we drew closer, the air between us crackled with anticipation, the tension palpable as we stood on the precipice of a decision that would alter the course of our academic and personal lives.

Hasan's gaze bore into mine, dark and intense, as if searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. But all I could feel was a fierce determination, a resolve to seize control of the situation and emerge victorious, no matter the cost. The lines between right and wrong blurred in the heat of the moment, overshadowed by the intoxicating allure of forbidden desire.

Without a word, Hasan closed the distance between us, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he brushed his fingers against my cheek. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of us locked in a silent dance of longing and anticipation.

His lips met mine in a searing kiss, igniting a firestorm of passion that threatened to consume us both. With each touch, each caress, the boundaries that had once separated us melted away, leaving only the raw intensity of our desire.

As our bodies entwined, the air around us crackled with electricity, charged with the urgency of our shared longing. Hasan's hands roamed my body with a hunger that matched my own, igniting a wildfire of sensation that blazed through every nerve ending.

In that moment, all thoughts of exams and grades faded into obscurity, replaced by the primal need to surrender to the irresistible pull of desire. As Hasan's lips trailed down my neck, his touch setting my skin ablaze, I knew that there was no turning back.

With each passing moment, the intensity grew, building like a tidal wave ready to crash over us both. And when it finally hit, the sheer force of our passion left us breathless, tangled together in a web of tangled limbs and whispered promises.

Hasan's fingers found their way between my legs, trailing along the wetness that had welled up there. A gasp escaped my lips as his thumb circled around my clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through every nerve ending.

"You like that?" he growled in a low murmur against my ear.

I nodded eagerly, unable to form any coherent words as desire consumed every fiber of my being. The intensity grew with each passing second, building like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

Hasan's fingers explored my depths with a skill and finesse that left me breathless. The way he teased and pushed against my gates of pleasure, driving me to the edge of madness, was exquisite. My body clenched around his fingers, begging for release, but he held back just enough to keep me teetering on the precipice.

"Just like that," he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. "You want me to fuck you so badly, don't you?"

I moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as desire coursed through my veins. The urgency within me grew with each passing moment, demanding satisfaction. But Hasan knew exactly how to wield power over me, to keep me desperate for him.

"No," he replied with a mocking tone. "You're not going to come yet." A flicker of frustration crossed my face as I struggled against his firm grip. He chuckled at my futile attempts to break free from his hold.

"Don't worry," he continued, his voice dripping with seduction. "I'll make you scream my name when I give you what you crave." His touch intensified, fingers pressing deeper inside me as if testing the strength of my walls.

The anticipation was unbearable, my body trembling with a mixture of impatience and ecstasy. "Fuck," I moaned, frustration coursing through my veins like wildfire.

Hasan smirked, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. "Not just yet," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he slowly pulled his fingers out of me. My breath hitched in disappointment as I felt the ache deepen between my legs. "You're going to have to beg for it properly."

My hesitation mingled with defiance as I locked eyes with Hasan. He knew exactly how to push all of my buttons - the power he held over me was intoxicatingly dangerous. But even amidst the haze of desire, there was a flicker of reluctance deep within me.

"Please," I whispered hoarsely, barely able to form the words amidst the overwhelming need coursing through every inch of my body. Hasan chuckled darkly at my plea before pressing his lips against mine in a searing kiss.

With a swift movement, he lifted me up effortlessly and threw me over his desk. Sharp and dirty furniture scraped against my skin as I landed with a thud. The air crackled with anticipation as Hasan positioned himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, his voice dripping with seduction. My heart raced in response, a mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through me like electricity.

I nodded eagerly, unable to form coherent words amidst the whirlwind of emotions threatening to consume me. The uncertainty mingled with desire as Hasan pressed against the entrance of my core.

"Fuck," he growled lowly, gripping my hips tightly. "You want it rough, don't you? You want me to fuck you hard and fast?"

My breath hitched in response as I nodded frantically, unable to resist the magnetic pull that drew me towards him. He began to thrust into me with a force that made the desk move forward with each thrust.

"You like that, huh?" Hasan taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You like how I'm taking you so fucking hard?"

My mind was consumed by a mix of pleasure and frustration, but I couldn't deny the raw hunger between us. With each powerful thrust, my walls clenched around him tightly, desperately begging for more.

Hasan's eyes locked onto mine as he picked up the pace, his grip on my hips growing tighter with each passing second. The air in the room was thick with anticipation, filled with moans and curses that echoed off the walls.

I could feel myself teetering on the edge once again, desperate to surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through my veins. But Hasan knew exactly what he was doing to me - he chased my sweet spot relentlessly, and I could feel myself edging closer and closer to the brink once again.

And then it happened. The intensity intensified until I exploded in ecstasy, crying out Hasan's name as waves of pleasure crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Hasan's thrusts grew more intense, his grip on my hips tightening as he fucked me harder and faster. The friction between us was unbearably intense, sending shockwaves of pleasure cascading through every inch of my body.

My mind spiraled with a mix of guilt and desire, torn between the forbidden desires that consumed me and the rational thoughts screaming for moderation.

"Fuck," I moaned, unable to contain myself. "You're so fucking good at this."

Hasan's eyes smoldered with dark amusement as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against mine in a hungry kiss. "That's right," he whispered huskily. "You love being fucked. You love how I use you for my pleasure. God youre such a whore, letting your TA do this to you, all for a good grade. You're my little slut, aren't you?"

He growled, his voice low and husky. I moaned and came again, my pussy clenching around his cock.

"Yes! Yes! I'm your little slut!" I cried out as he pounded into me hard and fast.

I moaned and writhed beneath him, my body responding to his dominance. "Yes! Yes! Fuck me harder!" I cried out as he pounded into me with a force that made the desk creak and squeak.

The door to the office was locked, but it didn't matter. The sound of our bodies slapping together was loud enough to be heard outside. Hasan's hands gripped my hips, pulling me back onto his cock with each thrust. I could feel his balls slapping against my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck, Hasan," I moaned. "You feel so good inside me." Hasan grunted in response, his eyes locked on mine as he continued to pound into me. His grip on my hips tightened, and I could feel him starting to lose control.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned. "Where do you want it?" I bit my lip, considering. "Inside me," I finally said. "I want to feel you fill me up." Hasan grunted again, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his climax.

He thrust one last time, burying himself deep inside me as he came. I could feel his hot cum filling me up, and the sensation sent me over the edge as well.

I came hard, my pussy clenching around his cock as he continued to thrust into me. I was panting and shaking as he slowly pulled out of me. He sat back on his heels, looking down at me with a satisfied smile. "That was amazing," he said, stroking my hair gently.

I smiled back at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment. "Thank you," I said, my voice still shaky from the intensity of the orgasm. He leaned down and kissed me gently on the forehead. "You're welcome," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. “I think someone earned themselves a 105%,” he winked at me as we left the building.

[thevenusiandiva]

Fendi Romanesque B Bags

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

Do i dare to ask?

halfway through the european middle ages, churches shifted from the romanesque style to the new gothic style, which favored pointed windows and high ceilings to let in more light and make the church and god feel more welcoming. centuries later in the 1700s, horace walpole developed a fascination with the ruins of these gothic churches and fashioned his house in an appropriation of it, and wrote the first gothic novel, the castle of otranto. british authors became obsessed with gothic fiction, and its preoccupation with the mysterious and haunting supernatural as societal and familial commentary due to gothic architecture being these dark and decaying places, despite having been light and welcoming at the time they were built. from britain, the genre spread to america, where it flourished as a commentary on the underside of the american dream, first in prose and then on film and then television. twin peaks was the first tv show to lean into the gothic genre, followed by the x files a few years later and then the third to complete this trio at the turn of the century: supernatural. because the gothic leans so heavily upon incest as a symbolic trope, main characters sam and dean exhibit incestuous subtext (stated explicitly in the show by the angel zachariah and outside by series creator eric kripke), leading people to ship both their characters (wincest) and their actors (j2). in 2010, an anonymous request for a "doggy style" alternate universe including "alpha" and "bitch males" was filled by tehdirtiestsock, spawning the a/b/o, or omegaverse, genre of fanfic. slowly this genre also infiltrated the self-published romance genre, where an author sued another for plagiarism based on similar omegaverse tropes, despite the fact that the genre had already been established. the lawsuit was covered by several fandom-focused youtubers.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Art installation "Criança" ("Upbringing" in Catalan) by Octavi Arrizabalaga "Aryz" in the Santa Maria del Pi basilica, Barcelona, Catalonia.

This church was built in the 14th century in Gothic style, rebuilding an older Romanesque church. The Medieval architecture contrasts with the modern art piece, in a contemporary urban style.

"Criança" represents maternity. The chosen image can have many readings, but directs the viewer to the concepts of love as a universal value, generosity, altruism, protection and embrace of another.

This modern art piece is located right above the original 14th-century statue of the Virgin Mary holding Jesus in her arms. Contrarily to the Medieval sculpture, "Criança" represents two anonymous figures, but in the same expression of love as Mary's. The Santa Maria del Pi basilica has chosen this artwork as part of their view of their church as an open space for all interpretations of religious and spiritual feelings.

The idea for this art installation was born when the religious community of Santa Maria del Pi were upset that spray-paint users kept vandalizing the church's exterior. Then, they decided to change their perspective: spray-painted art is often marginalized, proof of a fight for art to be located at the centre of our lives, in the streets we walk through every day; and is then pushed out of the public space with the constant attempts of erasing it. The basilica then contacted B-Murals, an art organization in Barcelona specialized in urban art, to welcome a piece of urban art inside their building. If you are familiar with church architecture, you will have realised the piece is standing in the holiest location.

Photos by Octavi Arrizabalaga "Aryz" and Fototeca Patrimonial. Part of the text adapted from Basilica del Pi and B-Murals Centre d'Art Urbà.

[preferablywithcastles]

The Magnificent Fortress of Festung Hohensalzburg in Salzburg, Austria

The Fortress on a Hill

Andreas Stiasny (Wikimedia Commons)

Welcome to Preferably With Castles, where I like to showcase a great place to visit - often a castle - and then give you some practical information in case you decide to make the trip. Today we talk about the stunning fortress of Hohensalzburg, perched famously atop the Festungsburg Mountain (Fortress Castle Mountain) in Salzburg Austria. How did it evolve from a simple wooden structure into a massive stone bastion that dominates the Salzburg skyline? Friends, the imposing walls of the fortress stretch out before us, we have to go take a look. The origins of Festung Hohensalzburg date back to 1077 when Archbishop Gebhard von Helfenstein ordered its construction during the Investiture Controversy. He was in support of the Pope against the Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV, so a new military base seems like a good idea. Initially, it was a simple wooden fortification, but over the centuries, it underwent numerous expansions and fortifications, especially during the reigns of Archbishop Leonhard von Keutschach (1495-1519) and Archbishop Wolf Dietrich von Raitenau (1587-1612).

The Golden Chamber by Zarion (Wikimedia Commons)

The Golden Hall by Gryffindor (Wikimedia Commons)

By the early 16th century, under Leonhard von Keutschach, the fortress had transformed into a formidable stronghold with extensive bastions and protective towers. It was during this time that the fortress gained its distinctive form, featuring Gothic and Romanesque architectural elements. Von Keutschach added the Golden Hall and the Golden Chamber (later the prince’s quarters), showcasing intricate wooden ceilings and opulent decor, reflecting the wealth and power of the archbishops.

The fortress continued to evolve, with Wolf Dietrich von Raitenau further enhancing its defensive capabilities and living quarters. Despite its militaristic design, the fortress was never taken by force, a testament to its strategic location and robust construction.

Throughout the centuries, Festung Hohensalzburg has served various purposes, from a military stronghold to a residence for archbishops, and even a barracks for troops. Today, it stands as a symbol of Salzburg's rich history and cultural heritage, attracting visitors from around the world.

Now as always let's help you get started on trip planning, because we all want to go see Hohensalzburg for ourselves now. Right? I only have so many ways to say 'This hotel was great and that restaurant was great', so I'm going to present the information differently.

Visiting Festung Hohensalzburg in Salzburg, Austria

Where would you stay: Castle Hotels (Stay in a Castle!)

Schloss Fuschl Resort & Spa Rating: 4.5/5 #LuxuryStay #HistoricCastle #LakesideViews Location: in Hof bei Salzburg, 20 km from Festung Hohensalzburg

Hotel Schloss Mönchstein Rating: 4.5/5 #ElegantRooms #PanoramicViews #HistoricCharm Location: in Salzburg, 1 km from Festung Hohensalzburg

Schloss Leopoldskron Rating: 4.0/5 #BaroqueCastle #ScenicLake #HistoricLandmark Location: in Salzburg, 3 km from Festung Hohensalzburg

Bed and Breakfast:

Villa Verde Rating: 4.5/5 #CharmingB&B #ComfortableRooms #WarmHospitality Location: in Salzburg

B&B Villa Salzburg Rating: 4.5/5 #QuaintSetting #HomemadeBreakfast #FamilyFriendly Location: in Salzburg

Die Haslachmühle Rating: 4.0/5 #Cozy #GreatLocation #Traditional Location: in Salzburg

And of course, if you’re anything like us, you look at potential AirBnBs. There are quite a few in the area, one as low as $69 that still looks beautiful. I will talk about AirBnB until they make me an affiliate.

Eating while at Festung Hohensalzburg:

St. Peter Stiftskulinarium 4.5/5 #GourmetDining #ElegantSetting #Historic

Bärenwirt 4.5/5 #LocalCuisine #CozyAtmosphere #HistoricBuilding

Augustiner Bräu Kloster Mülln 4.0/5 #Brewery #TraditionalAustrianFood #CasualDining

Dessert:

Café Sacher Salzburg 4.5/5 #FamousSacherTorte #ElegantSetting #ClassicViennese

Cafe Tomaselli 4.5/5 #HistoricCafe #DeliciousPastries #LocalFavorites

Cafe-Konditorei Fürst 4.5/5 #OriginalMozartkugel #DeliciousTreats #Traditional

Other places you can visit on this trip:

Mozart's Birthplace 4.5/5 #HistoricalLandmark #ClassicalMusic #CulturalHeritage

Mirabell Palace and Gardens 4.5/5 #BaroqueArchitecture #BeautifulGardens #IconicViews

Salzburg Cathedral 4.5/5 #BaroqueMasterpiece #HistoricLandmark #SpiritualCenter

Hellbrunn Palace and Trick Fountains 4.5/5 #RenaissanceArchitecture #WaterFeatures #FamilyFriendly

Haus der Natur 4.5/5 #ScienceMuseum #InteractiveExhibits #Aquarium

Salzburg Zoo 4.5/5 #FamilyFriendly #Wildlife #Educational

Hangar 7 4.5/5 #Planes #Helicopters #RacingCars

Salzburg Marionette Theatre 4.5/5 #CulturalHeritage #FamilyEntertainment #UniqueExperience

Cultural Sites:

Salzburg Festival A world-renowned festival featuring opera, classical music, and theater performances. Held annually in summer, it includes performances in venues such as the Großes Festspielhaus and Haus für Mozart.

Mozarteum Orchestra Salzburg Experience concerts by this prestigious orchestra, often held at the Mozarteum Foundation's concert halls.

Salzburger Landestheater Enjoy a variety of performances ranging from opera to contemporary theater in this historic venue.

Salzburg State Theatre A historic venue offering a diverse range of performances, including opera, ballet, and drama.

Day Trips:

Hallstatt, 72 km

Hallstatt Salt Mine 4.5/5 #HistoricMine #ScenicViews #Educational

Heritage Hotel Hallstatt 4.5/5 #Charming #LakesideViews #Comfortable

Werfen, 40 km

Hohenwerfen Castle 4.5/5 #MedievalCastle #BirdsOfPrey #Historic

Eisriesenwelt Ice Cave 4.5/5 #NaturalWonder #LargestIceCave #Adventure

Berchtesgaden, Germany, 30 km

Eagle's Nest 4.5/5 #HistoricSite #ScenicViews #WWIIHistory

Kempinski Hotel Berchtesgaden 4.5/5 #Luxury #AlpineViews #SpaResort

© Google Earth, ©2024, Image Landsat

Thank You For Reading!

And that's my look at Festung Hohensalzburg. I am no bot or AI; I'm just someone who loves traveling with his family, especially to medieval sites. So until next time, may all your travels be happy, healthy, safe—and preferably with castles!

Do not hesitate to send me messages with more current information. I can only research so much for passion projects. Please take the time to do additional reading about anywhere you visit to ensure you feel safe.

[explore4adventures]

B E A U T I F U L

Romanesque ❤️

[screenmobile]

Can Patio Enclosures Be Customized for Historic Homes?

Owning a historic home comes with charm, character, and challenges. While the architecture tells a story of craftsmanship and timeless design, modern homeowners often want to enjoy contemporary comforts, like a cozy enclosed patio. But can patio enclosures be customized for historic homes without compromising their original appeal?

The answer is yes, with thoughtful planning and the right team. Custom patio enclosures allow homeowners to enhance their living space, enjoy the outdoors without pests, and even increase property value, all while preserving the unique style of their home.

Why Historic Homes Require Special Consideration for Patio Enclosures

Historic homes are not just buildings; they are legacies. In Michiana Shores and surrounding areas like South Bend, Niles, and Granger, many neighborhoods take pride in preserving their architectural heritage. Installing a standard enclosure on a vintage property could disrupt its curb appeal—or worse, violate local preservation codes.

Here’s why customization is essential:

Architectural Integrity: Victorian, Colonial, and Craftsman homes each have distinct design elements. A cookie-cutter enclosure simply won’t match.

Material Compatibility: Older homes may use unique woods, trims, or brickwork that require special care to integrate with new additions.

Regulatory Compliance: In some towns, local ordinances or historic preservation commissions may require approval for external modifications.

Visual Harmony: A well-designed enclosure should look like it has always been part of the home, not an afterthought.

By working with professionals experienced in screen and enclosure installation, you can design a solution that both respects history and adds comfort to daily living.

How Patio Enclosures Can Be Customized for Historic Homes

A custom patio enclosure doesn’t have to clash with a historic property. With careful planning, they can complement its aesthetics, improve functionality, and even boost its resale appeal.

1. Design Flexibility to Match Architectural Styles

One of the biggest advantages of a custom enclosure is that it can be designed to echo the architectural features of your home.

Examples of matching elements include:

Arched windows to reflect Romanesque designs

Wood or faux-wood framing for Craftsman homes

Decorative trim moldings for Victorian exteriors

Color-matching to existing siding, shutters, or roofing

A custom build allows for seamless integration—preserving the charm while offering modern usability.

2. Choice of Materials for Authentic Look

Many historic homes in Michiana Shores and South Bend use locally sourced stone, wood siding, or hand-crafted metalwork. To avoid clashing, your enclosure can incorporate:

Aluminum frames with wood-grain finishes

Retractable screens that stay hidden until needed

Glass paneling to match original windows

Color-matched paints and stains

Screenmobile of Michiana Shores, MI, works with high-quality, customizable materials to ensure your patio enclosure feels like a natural extension of your home.

3. Seamless Interior & Exterior Transitions

A well-designed enclosure should feel like part of your home's original layout, both indoors and out.

Tips for smooth transitions:

Use matching floor tiles or continue hardwood flooring into the enclosed area

Install ceiling fans or light fixtures in traditional styles

Choose door hardware and trim details that mirror original features

The goal is to blur the line between old and new—so visitors aren’t sure where the original ends and the new addition begins.

Common Patio Enclosure Options for Historic Homes

While every home is different, here are some enclosure styles that tend to pair well with historic properties:

Three-season rooms with removable glass panels and screens

Greenhouse-style sunrooms for garden enthusiasts

Pergolas with retractable screening systems

Screened-in porches with removable panels for seasonal use

Each type can be tailored in size, material, and finish to suit your home’s unique look and feel.

Key Benefits of Customized Patio Enclosures for Historic Homes

Customizing a patio enclosure isn’t just about aesthetics—it’s also a smart investment in your comfort and property value.

Here’s what you gain:

Expanded Living Space: Ideal for relaxing, hosting, or working from home

Increased Home Value: Especially important for buyers seeking historic charm with modern convenience

Pest-Free Enjoyment: Keeps bugs out without sacrificing airflow or natural light

Protection from the Elements: Enjoy the outdoors in all seasons without wind or rain disruptions

Preservation of Historic Appeal: Maintain your home’s unique story while enhancing function

Addressing Preservation Guidelines and HOA Rules

Many older homes are located in areas with zoning regulations, HOA rules, or historic preservation guidelines. It’s important to do your homework before starting construction.

Helpful tips:

Check with your local planning department about permit requirements

Review any HOA rules about exterior modifications

Work with a contractor experienced in historic properties (like Screenmobile)

Ask about reversible or minimally invasive installation options

With the right approach, you can balance modern upgrades with preservation responsibilities.

The Rise of Outdoor Living in Historic Homes

A report from the National Association of Home Builders (NAHB) shows that outdoor living spaces are among the top features homebuyers want—especially in historic neighborhoods where yard space is already limited.

Additional findings:

Over 65% of homeowners say outdoor comfort features like patios and enclosures increase satisfaction with their home

Homes with attractive outdoor features sell faster and for higher prices, according to Zillow

Patio enclosures are increasingly seen as year-round usable spaces, not just summer additions

This data highlights that enhancing your historic home with a patio enclosure is not just desirable—it's a value-adding decision.

What to Consider Before Customizing Your Historic Patio Enclosure

Before starting your project, walk through this quick checklist to keep things on track:

Does your neighborhood have historic designation or design guidelines?

Have you reviewed HOA or zoning requirements?

Are there any unique materials or trim you’d like to match?

Do you want removable panels for seasonal flexibility?

Will you use it for entertaining, gardening, remote work, or relaxing?

Have you contacted a licensed installer with experience in historic home projects?

Checking off these items ensures a smooth process from planning to installation.

Why Michiana Shores & South Bend Homeowners Trust Screenmobile

For homeowners in Michiana Shores, South Bend, Granger, Elkhart, and Niles, Screenmobile is a trusted partner for customized enclosures that preserve your home’s character.

Here’s what sets us apart:

Over two decades of experience with custom screen solutions

Friendly, local technicians who understand regional architecture

High-quality, weather-resistant materials ideal for Indiana and Michigan climates

Professional consultation and clear communication every step of the way

Whether you're a retiree upgrading your forever home or a young family restoring a property with history, Screenmobile delivers a solution that blends the past and present beautifully.

Conclusion

So, can patio enclosures be customized for historic homes? Absolutely.

When done right, they offer the best of both worlds—modern comfort without losing any of the original charm. From material selection to design details, every element can be tailored to your unique property, ensuring it looks like it belonged there from the beginning.

Want to learn how your historic home can benefit from a custom enclosure? Call Screenmobile today at +1 574-406-2197 for expert advice, personalized designs, and professional installation services in Michiana Shores and beyond.

[barr-amzer]

[B. Traven, Le vaisseau des morts] Les histoires de marins romanesques appartiennent depuis longtemps au passé. D'ailleurs, à mon avis, ce romantisme n'a jamais existé. Pas sur les bateaux à voile, et pas en mer. Il n'existe que dans l'imagination des auteurs qui ont écrit sur la mer. Ces histoires mensongères ont poussé nombre de petits gars à se lancer dans l'aventure. Et ils se sont retrouvés anéantis sur le plan physique et moral, parce que, mal préparés, ils pensaient, avec une fois puérile, que les écrivains avaient fidèlement restitué la réalité. Peut-être bien que la vie de capitaine et de timonier eu jadis ses côtés romanesques. Mais celle de l'équipage, jamais. Pour tout romantisme, les matelots ont toujours dû trimer horriblement dur et ont toujours été traités comme des chiens. Capitaines et timoniers apparaissent dans des opéras, des romans, des ballades. Mais l'hymne à la gloire du héros qui se coltine tout le boulot n'a jamais été chanté. Il aurait été trop rude pour donner au public envie de l'entonner.

On donnait rarement son vrai nom et sa véritable identité sur la Yorikke. De même, on ignorait le plus souvent sous quel nom et quelle nationalité quelqu'un s'était enrôlé. [...] S'enquérir plus avant était jugé superflu. La plupart du temps on savait ou on croyait que ce n'était que la vérité, et on n'avait pas envie d'entendre d'autres mensonges. Si vous ne voulez pas qu'on vous mente, ne posez pas de question. Pour tuer le temps un soir de désœuvrement, alors que nous étions en rade, Stanislaw me raconta son histoire et je lui racontai la mienne. Je ne lui racontai pas ma vraie histoire, simplement une histoire. J'ignore si, pour sa part, il me dit la vérité. Comment savoir? Je ne sais même pas si l'herbe est vraiment verte, ce n'est peut-être qu'une illusion d'optique.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Beautiful 1889 Romanesque gray stone in Chicago, IL. 6bds, 5.5ba, $2.15M. It has an unexpectedly beautiful outdoor space. Well, a girl can dream.

Foyer and side entrance hall with lovely wainscoting.

Two sophisticated sitting rooms have matching fireplaces.

Large formal dining room with wainscoting and fireplace.

In a corner of the dining room there's a Dutch door bar.

The kitchen was likely renovated in the 80s b/c of the dated cabinets. I don't hate it, but light wood wasn't the way to go in this home. However, the light wood makes it look less dated.

In this tower room space they have an everyday dining space overlooking the garden.

The lovely stairs.

What a beautiful built-in library/music room.

You can't really call this sophisticated room a family room, but that's probably what it is. There's more built-in shelving and a fireplace.

The primary bedroom is long and angular.

What an interesting bath.

The top level floor has an original skylight.

As, I always say, large wealthy homes have so many sitting rooms b/c the owners really don' t know what to do with all the extra space.

This secondary bedroom is lovely.

And, this one is shaped just like the primary, only smaller.

This one is also beautiful.

Renovated 3pc. shower room. Pretty and tasteful.

Gate to the alley and garden.

There's a mural on this outer wall. This is so pretty, already.

Then, pass thru an ivy covered lattice.

You just don't see something like this in the city, as a rule.

Gorgeous large patio with a pergola and gardens.

This looks like a newer structure. So beautiful.

Don't you just want to chill here all summer?

The garden is stunning.

I need a garden.

https://www.atproperties.com/12035461/50-e-cedar-street-chicago-illinois-60611-nei

[rainybirdfury]

Les plus remarquables publications du jour. Romans comiques, Suce-canelle ou les Trois faubouriennes par Beauvallet & Saint-Vrin. Aventures romanesques, Les Exploits du Capitaine Roland ou l'amour d'une créole par Th. Labourieu & Saint-Vrin. 10 centimes la livraison... - B. Humert

Via Gallica

[dsandrvk]

Friday, May 2 - Kinsale to Fethard-on-Seaon the Hook Peninsula

Hook Lighthouse

12th century Ardmore Tower towering 95 feet

Romanesque frieze panel on 12th century Ardmore cathedral

Closeup of panel depicting the judgement of Solomon

Dungarvon Castle dating to King John's time

Slade Castle and harbor at lower tide

Coast of the Hook Peninsula

Fethard Castle in the town park

Today was our longest driving day, as we covered over 200 kilometers on all sorts of roads, as well as taking two small ferries across estuaries. As a result, we planned only a few short stops as we wanted to see Hook Lighthouse and explore a little more of the Hook Peninsula, since we are only spending one night there.

The two ferries sort of bookended our journey, since we got to the first one shortly after leaving Kinsale. The crossing was less than 10 minutes and we only had to wait about 5 minutes, as the ferry just does continuous crossing back and forth all day. After the ferry we had only a short distance to go to get on the N25, which being a "National" road has real lane widths most of the time, and is sometimes divided and sometimes has two lanes in each direction. There are multiple traffic circles, especially on the Waterford bypass, sometimes every kilometer.or so, but it's still considerably faster than the regional or local roads.

Our first stop was at the Ardmore round tower and cathedral. Both date to the 12th century, although the original first church in Ireland was supposedly founded here by St Declan, long before St Patrick. Since this was either the 3rd or 4th century CE, everything is a legend, and there are conflicting accounts. The tower certainly stands out from the surrounding countryside, and while the little cathedral is quite modest, the sculpture friezes on the west side are unlike anything I've seen here. They illustrate scenes from the Bible, similar to the High Crosses, and the two best are Adam and Eve and the judgement of Solomon. It is amazing how well some of these features have stood up to the Irish weather

From here we had a little more country driving before we got on the highway again, and our next stop was Dungarvon Castle, in the town of the same name. Here it was busy, as the three-day weekend was just beginning, and we were lucky to find a parking space. This castle is totally different than the usual tower castles of Ireland, and was built around a keep in the English way. That makes sense, since it was King John who ordered it built in 1185 in the Norman style, and it predates most of the Irish castles. It was more used as a defensive structure than a family home, and had also hosted barracks for various groups including the Royal Irish Constabulary, which led to it later being set in fire by the IRA. It has been recently restored by the OPW, and the exhibits give a good overviews of the many attempts of the Irish to throw off British Rule.

After going around so many roundabouts I lost track of the number, we got on our second ferry, which was just unloading as we got in line - perfect timing. We checked into our B&B, and then headed out to the end of the Hook Peninsula to the lighthouse. This lighthouse is arguably the most famous in Ireland, as well as the oldest, and may just be the oldest continuously operating lighthouse in the world, as it dates back 800 years. It also has walls up to 4 meters thick, so isn't going anywhere, even in the worst storms. While it would have been nice to be able to do the tour, the lighthouse admission closes at 5, and we arrived well after that. I also feel that lighthouses look best from a distance, and was happy to see this one in person.

Near the lighthouse is another small castle, this one in the Irish tower castle mode, which seems to dominate the countryside. It overlooks a little fishing harbor and the start of a coastal walk to Hook Head. We walked a little of the path, but didn't have time for the whole thing so headed back to our little town and "their" castle, dating from the 14th and 15th century, similar to Slade Castle. The town has built a lovely nature trail through the woods, and it was a great way to wind down at the end of a long day. We may not have covered that much distance in American terms, but driving here takes so much more concentration with the narrow roads, roundabouts, towns with folks parking in the road, etc. The next three days will be shorter distances, and should be easier.

Tomorrow we plan to spend some time near here at Tintern Abbey, and then head to Cahir, which has both a mostly intact castle and a "Swiss Cottage", and a lovely walk between them. Our fantastic weather continues to hold.

[home-inspiration-blog]

Citizen Bull, Barnes among San Felipe Stakes nominees

Bob Baffert-trained horses dominate nominations for the $300,000, Grade II San Felipe Stakes at Santa Anita on March 1, including Robert B. Lewis Stakes winner and runner-up Citizen Bull and Rodriguez and San Vicente Stakes 1-2 finishers Barnes and Romanesque. Michael McCarthy-trained Los Alamitos Futurity winner Journalism and John Shirreffs’ impressive maiden winner Baeza also are among the 14…

[uniquejellyfishqueen]

IBYTAM- 9 buttons

11/10/24 KC Chiefs game- 8 buttons

Her cat is named after Benjamin Button nickname Benji

12/18/2018 born

4/26/2019 adopted

4/26/2019: Instagram photo introducing him “This is Benjamin Button. He’s a good boy”

“Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town and all the bad boys would be good boys if they only had a chance to love her”

“Good boy, that’s right come close”

4/26: International Chernobyl Disaster Remembrance Day (1986)

4/26/1977: New York City’s most famous disco, Studio 45 opens

4/26/1977: The Morgan Creek Bridge is Chapel Hill, NC is renamed the James Taylor Bridge

-Taylor was named after James Taylor.

-11/22/2011 N2 MSG, NYC Speak Now World Tour James Taylor joined TS for performance of “Fire and Rain”

*it was during this performance on 11/22/2011 that the arm lyrics she had down her left arm: “Bring all the pretenders, one day. We will be remembered.” These were her own lyrics from Long Live.

-Long Live is track 14 on 3rd album.

-it has been played 46 times on tour, it was part of the set list but it was removed. Most recent played: London N7, Lisbon N2, Singapore N6.

726 is the area code for San Antonio—

Cities: San Antonio, Schertz, Universal City, Converse, Balcones Heights, Cross Mountain, Elmendorf, Garden Ridge, Helotes, Hill Country Village, Hollywood Park, Kirby, Leming, Live Oak, Olmos Park, Selma, St. Hedwig, Terrell Hills, and Windcrest

4/26/1905: Jack McCarthy, of the Chicago Cubs is the first fielder to throw out 3 runners at home plate in one game against the Pittsburgh Pirates.

4/26/1912: The 1st home run hit at Fenway park, in Boston MA was by Hugh Bradley of the Red Sox.

4/26/1995: Coors Field opens in Denver, Co

-ground was broke on 10/16/1992

*The Denver Masonic Temple Building (5 minutes from Coors Field) a Richardsonian Romanesque style building from 1889. It was added to the NRHP on 11/22/1977. Okay because they really like to plan they have a temple on both side of the field… no expenses spared I see, they are 10 minutes apart. Okay and their oldest one #5 just celebrated 100 years on 7/10/24. Denver has over 104 lodges, around 16,000 members, many who are members of the York and Scottish Rite of Freemasonary. (p.s Pennsylvania is the largest Masonic Jurisdiciton in the US claiming more than 80,000 members at the end of 2021 (more than any other state, nice..)

TS said that he is a purr box, “Karma is a cat purring in my lap cause it loves me.” The cat in the music video is Olivia Benson

-Mariska Hargitay posted on Instagram on 11/30/2023 a picture of her Siamese cat. “Karma is a cat, @taylorswift Meet Karma.”

(all numbers below added = 12)

O 15 B 2

251 is the area code for southwestern Alabama, including Mobile, Baldwin, and Washington. Created on 6/18/2001 -> 6/18/2024 ET #103 N1/1 Cardiff

B 2 B 2

#22 N3/3 Philadelphia SS guitar 11/11. And on piano were 412 which is the area code for Pittsburgh.

——-Turtle Creek is a borough in Allegheny County, PA 12 miles SE from Pittsburgh. Their lodge is #613. 6/13/2024 was #100 on the ET N1/3 in Liverpool. The surprise songs #s make the area code for McDonald, Missouri.

-> -> -> 6/13 is national sewing machine day (she featured a sewing machine in one of her fortnight videos.) And also 6/13/1991 the first all sports daily newspaper, the National stops publication.

*6/13/1995 Jagged Little Pill released

*6/13/2008 there was a wedding

*6/13/2015 TS brings Rachel Platten on stage to sing “Fight Song” during the show in Philadelphia.

->6th album 13 track is “This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” This has been played 2x on the ET. Seattle N1/2 #44 7/22/23 and Cardiff N1/1 #103 6/18/2023. The difference between the two #s is 59. Show #59 N2/3 Buenos Aires. 1st mashup played first time End Game was played mashed up with Out of the Woods and Is it Over Now? Those 2 1989 songs are repeated again on #59 N2/4 Paris on 5/10/2024, the difference being instead of End Game she played album 11 track 3 MBOBHFT

Seattle & Buenos Aires SBA (sweet baby Angel?)-> -> -> SBA Small Business Administration: an independent agency of the US government that provides support to entrepreneurs and small businesses. Formed on 7/30/1953 -> 7/30/2011 Speak Now World Tour Quicken Loans Arena Cleveland, OH

—-Evermore (9th album) Coney Island (9th Track) ft the National released on 12/11/2020. The National and TS released The Alcott on 4/28/2023

* Benjamin is named after the character portrayed by actor Brad Pitt in the 2008 film
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Which was released in 12/25/2008 (merry ho ho) (17 days after the last night) (7 days until NYD) (turning 16 this year- like My Super Sweet 16? Theme song was Hilary Duff, 10 seasons 49 episodes premiered on 1/18/2005 and ended on 9/11/2017)

* His face is featured in the music video for "You Need To Calm Down" on the wristwatch with cat design, and in Taylor's Amazon music ad.

*A fun fact I learned was that Amazon has only been selling music and videos since 1998. That is only 26 years and how many of us remember the last CD we bought at the store? People sometimes get shocked when you talk about how it used to be, when it wasn’t that long ago to begin with.

* He was featured on Swift's TIME magazine cover for 2023's Person of the Year. (*this and the one above are both clues to time, like Benjamin is the clue for time)

* He has an IMDb credit for his role in the "ME!" music video.

* Benjamin has his own TSantiherochallenge video.

[ultraheydudemestuff]

Riverside Cemetery Gatehouse

3607 Pearl Road

Cleveland, OH

Riverside Cemetery Gatehouse is a historic office building located in Riverside Cemetery at 3607 Pearl Road in Cleveland, Ohio. The Riverside Cemetery Association was formed on November 15, 1875. Riverside Cemetery opened on July 8, 1876, on a bluff overlooking the west bank of the Cuyahoga River in the unincorporated village of Brooklyn Centre (now a neighborhood which is part of Cleveland, but then an independent settlement). It was a garden-style cemetery, and at the time of its dedication the largest cemetery on Cleveland's west side. As the cemetery was being laid out in 1875, the cemetery association constructed a wooden office building in the southwest corner of the property near the corner of Pearl Road and Willowdale Avenue. But as the cemetery grew, this structure proved too small for administrative needs. The cemetery's trustees approved construction of a new building at their annual meeting on December 9, 1895.

Noted local architect Charles W. Hopkinson was hired to develop the plans for the new building. The date on which Hopkinson was hired is not known, but he submitted plans to the cemetery trustees probably in April 1896. The trustees approved his plans on May 4. Hopkinson recommended that the building be constructed of granite. But granite was expensive, and the trustees asked the architect to re-estimate the cost using red brownstone (a building material popular at the time) instead. The difference was significant, and the trustees chose brownstone.

Construction contracts were let on June 30, 1896, and construction began on July 9, 1896.

The architectural style of the building has been variously described as "French château," Gothic Revival, and Romanesque Revival. One source called it a combination of Gothic Revival and Romanesque Revival. The structure consists of a steel beam frame with red-colored brownstone walls. The stone was quarried near Longmeadow, Massachusetts, and mortared with Portland cement. The base of the veranda which wraps around the building is poured-in-place cement. The building features a turret on the southwest corner that reaches beyond the roof, dormer windows on the second floor, and buttresses on all sides. Construction was largely complete by the end of 1896, although interior work continued into early 1897. The final cost of the building was variously reported as $18,000 to $20,000.

The Riverside Cemetery Gatehouse has two above-ground stories and a basement. As originally constructed, the first floor contained a reception room, office, fireproof vault, and a women's bathroom. The floors on the first floor reception room and women's bathroom were covered with mosaic tile. The reception room was the largest space on the first floor. It was roughly 16 by 22 feet in size, with an arched, coffered, Tudor-style, 16-foot high oak ceiling. The walls of the reception room were lined with 1.5-inch thick enameled brick in a warm yellow color. The reception room also featured a gas-fired fireplace with a wide mantel, and an "art window" made of 2,955 pieces of clear and stained glass. The office measured 18 by 25 feet. Its walls were tinted plaster, it had a ceiling panelled in oak, and it had oak flooring.

A narrow, winding staircase led to the second floor. Two meeting rooms existed on the second floor for the use of the trustees. With the exception of the first floor reception room and office, each of the rooms on the first and second floor were panelled with quarter-sawn oak. Chandeliers of Flemish brass lit the reception room, office, and both second floor rooms. The basement consisted of closets and storage space, and contained a furnace room. A 10-foot wide veranda with a coffered roof supported by arches wrapped around the building on its north, west, and south sides. The roof was made of red Spanish-made terracotta tile, with copper flashing. A turret jutted 25 fee above the second floor.

The building was originally lit by natural gas, but this was converted to electricity in the early 20th century. At some point, the ladies' bathroom was divided, so that a men's bathroom could be added. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places on March 19, 1987. A significant interior renovation occurred about 1991 to 1992. The ceiling in the office was covered by a dropped ceiling of sound-dampening tiles, and the north and east entrances to the building were closed off.