#Burlington Gardens

[spyskrapbook]

"Herzog & de Meuron" Exhibition _ 14.07 - 15.10.2023 _ The Gabrielle Jungels-Winkler Galleries, Burlington Gardens, Royal Academy of Arts, London, UK _ Photos by Spyros Kaprinis [23.09.2023].

[thelittledragons]

Royal Botanical Garden, Burlington, Ontario, Canada, March 2023.

[realloveormadness]

Fire Pit Landscape Burlington A summertime photo of a medium-sized, formal, stone backyard garden in full sun and with a fire pit.

[shadesofnavy]

Please tell me that Keith can be trusted in Cherry's garden without messing it up. I know the man would never do it intentionally but still please tell me he'll not mess anything up there

He's not allowed near her garden

[onwardtheygo]

Toronto, Canada

[elejahfanfic]

*

A Halloween Special

_starring

in

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕰𝖓𝖉

with

Fanfiction_

crossover

*

"Who is that?" Enid asked Wednesday as a woman in a very intricate lace Versace dress walked in the Addams family garden tea party, followed by a man in the most extravagantly pristine Armani suit.

"Aunt Vivienne and that guy - someone father knows. An Original vampire from New Orleans." Wednesday replied in her uninterested manner.

"The aunt Vivienne, the forensic pathologist that solved the Ripper Case?" Enid looked at the woman full of admiration.

Wednesday nodded slightly, her facial expression exhibiting annoyance.

The truth was that she equally admired her aunt. And wanted to be as sharp as her. Now that her aunt got a job as the senior forensic pathology in the Burlington Morgue, she apllied for internship.

"Girls - I would appreciate if you could take the twins and show them the rare black bat flower in the winter garden." Morticia gestured in the direction of Lucy and Jacob, the neighbours, who sat in the garden gazebo bored out of their minds.

Wednesday exhaled, rolling her eyes. Before she could retort to her mother, Enid pulled her away, and she followed her friend reluctantly towards the gazebo.

Not far from the gazebo, Elijah talked to Gomez, but his eyes kept swaying in the direction of Vivienne.

"We can carry the discussion of the Witch's Grimoire later in my study. Now, I think that I will introduce you to my sister-in-law." Gomez said as it was obvious that the Original vampire slipped into a daydream.

"I do apologize. I didn't mean to be rude. Sister-in-law you said."

"Yes. Vivienne Van Kirk. My wife had recently found out that her father had a daughter, who was adopted as a baby." Gomez replied.

Elijah nodded, swallowing hard. The woman was clearly a doppelgänger, as she was a spitting image of his ex-lover Katherine Pierce.

Just before entering the Mansion, Vivienne shot a look at Elijah.

Intrigued to find more about her, he followed his host into the grand house.

[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.

[daydream-cement]

Cold Head Heart Ch. 5

Marilyn Thornhill x OC (Rowan Ali)

Authors Note: SORRY THAT I HAVENT UPDATED IN FOREVER. I WAS TOO ENTRACED BY THE ANGST THAT WAS VIOLET AND ROSE.

"That might be the meet-cute of the century! And she just loomed over you and said what?" You were laying on Fern Rogers' bed, kicking your feet back and forth as you flicked through a Better Homes and Gardens magazine that had been in her purse. She was busying herself by unpacking her trunks and generally settling into her new quarters.

She mimicked your boss's accent when she repeated the phrase Larissa said when they ran into one another at the train station, "'Oh dear. Cat got your tongue?'… Jesus, she is a beautiful woman. I had no clue what to say to her."

"Slow down there, tiger. You haven't worked here a full 24 hours and you're already pining for your boss." You tossed the magazine onto Fern's desk and sat up in her bed, stretching out as you spoke to her, "You don't even know if she likes you."

"I flirted a little in the car… and she said 'You flatter me, doctor. You better watch out… Flattery will get you everywhere.'" Fern was dancing around as she refolded a pair of jeans when she mimicked Larissa's voice once more.

You kicked your feet against the bed, completely giddy that Fern was able to get the ever-reserved Larissa Weems to flirt back, "That is absolutely incredible. When you see her naked, I want all the details."

The jeans, once in her hands, hit your face and Fern scolded you, "Must you be so crude?"

"Oh, come on… You know you want her." You raised your eyebrows at her once you removed the jeans from your face.

"I want to get to know her…" Fern had her hands on her hips as she approached the bed to retrieve her jeans from you. She dipped her face low and whispered her final thought, "…and then I want to climb her like a tree…"

------

You weren't particularly proud of yourself as you drove to the Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility in South Burlington. Marilyn had sent you a letter while in prison, asking how you were and if you would be willing to come see her. You had never been to a correctional facility to visit anyone so this was an entirely new experience. Marilyn's letter had just seemed so desperate and lonely. You had sworn her off months ago, but once you saw your name scrawled in her delicate handwriting, you were hooked in once more.

You had been sitting in the parking lot of the correctional facility, psyching yourself up to go inside when Fern called. You grabbed your wallet and keys from the passenger side seat while holding the phone up to your ear, "Hey, Ferny. What's up?"

"Where are you? I have to talk to you about a run-in I just had with Weems!" Her voice was almost a whisper as she was trying to make sure Larissa wouldn’t be able to hear her divulging her excitement from the recent interaction. Ever since the two of them met, Fern had been overanalyzing almost each interaction, hoping that every word and glimpse meant that Larissa liked her as much as she liked Larissa.

"I'm grabbing a bite to eat. What happened?" You lied blatantly, not caring to share the truth with her, or anyone else for that matter.

"I was going a little too fast around a corner and I ran right into her, again. Her arm was around my waist and I kissed her hand and it was so tense and awkward and then I think she asked me out." Fern was talking a-mile-a-minute as you walked closer to the front doors.

Instantly, one detail in her story stands out amongst the rest and you had to tease her for it, "You did what? Kissed her hand? What is this? The 1800s?"

"It was cute! She had her hand by my face and I just thought it was cute! Don't make me question myself!" Fern was being extremely defensive and she seemed out of breath, she must have been running late to dinner. While you were more suave and forward with romantic interests, Fern had always been more gentle and reserved which you were sure Larissa greatly appreciated.

You moved on from the teasing and picked out the second detail in her story that warranted further questioning, "What do you mean by you thinking she asked you on a date?"

Your question made her second guess herself, "She asked me if I wanted to go on a walk tomorrow…"

"I see. It's like a not-date date. One where it doesn't seem super official, but if you start dating, you will both say 'Oh, yeah. That was our first date.'" You tried explaining the nuance of the date to her, knowing she had been out of the dating game for a few years.

"You think so? Do I like… bring her flowers?" You almost wanted to let out a laugh at how darling this kid was sometimes, but instead you try to reassure her a bit.

"No… Don't stress about it, hon. I'll be back later tonight and we can chat about what you are going to do." You grasp at one of the front doors to the correctional facility, trying to end the call before you go inside.

"Okay sounds good. Bye."

"Bye."

------

Marilyn was different. Her perfect haircut and chipper demeanor from when you first met her were completely gone. She seemed tired and her body even smaller as she was swallowed by the uniform she was forced to wear. You bit at your thumbnail as she sat down, both of you seemed all too nervous by the other's presence.

Her voice was quiet at first, unsure if your reasoning for coming was hostile or well natured, "Hi, Rowan… I see you got my letter."

"I did…" You kept your response short, unsure of what to say.

Marilyn paused for a moment before speaking again, even more hesitant with her words, "How- How have you been?"

"Good…” This conversation seemed so trivial. Why had she even asked you here? You continue with the pleasantries, hoping that she will begin to open up, “And you?”

“Uhm… It’s been different living here…” Marilyn nodded and offered a half smile.

“I can only imagine.”

This conversation was beyond painful. You were beginning to pine for the days where you would lay in bed with one another and talk about nothing and everything for hours on end. Why did she have to go and make everything so complicated?

“How is Larissa?” She offered a new line of questioning.

You looked at her skeptically, almost positive that this may have been the reason she asked you here. Larissa had been her romantic obsession when she attempted to destroy Nevermore, so it wouldn’t be shocking if she was still on her mind. You give her a short response, not wanting her to know much about your boss, “Alive and well… Ready for a new school year.”

“Good…”

Silence befell you both once again, but you were the one to break it now, “Why did you do it?”

“I thought it was the right thing… My father… My family was killed by outcasts.” The way Marilyn answered almost made it seem like she wasn’t even sure of her own answer, rather it was what she had been telling herself to avoid the truth.

You decided to challenge her, “Were they really? Your brother’s death was due to your father’s bigotry. Your mother died of a broken heart, and your father-”

She cut you off, her temper ready to fly off the handle, “Don’t talk about my family like that. I know how they-”

“You were abused for years, Marilyn. Abused and manipulated.” She looked away from you, her eyes were filled with anger and embarrassment and she didn’t want you to see. You were seething with your own form of rage, unable to have outcasts take the blame for the hand Marilyn had been dealt, “You shouldn’t let that bitterness consume you. Life is full of death… and disappointment… but it isn’t hard to find the good in it.”

She went quiet. You couldn’t tell if she was beginning to ignore you or if she was considering your response. You are watching her intently now, wondering what was going through her wretched yet beautiful mind.. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and you are reminded of those passing periods spent in the broom closet. Her face was downcast on the table in front of her and she picked at her nails. Those hands. Those hands that had caused so much damage yet brought you so much pleasure in the early hours of the morning.

You began to question yourself, wondering if you were conflating love with lust.

Her voice broke you from your thoughts. It was soft and desperate. Her eyes looked up at you almost like she was pouting. Her eyes were begging you, “Will you come back next week?”

You were reminded of those nights she would come to your room after being rejected by Larissa, saying ‘no’ to her was impossible then too. You considered her question for a moment and you knew that you were doing something wrong when you gave your answer, “Yes…”

As you walked from the correctional center, you wondered if she was manipulating you again. You wondered if she wanted to rope you into some larger scheme when all you wanted to do was love her.

Link to Chapter 6

[ohmireu]

hi there !! my name’s bear (he/him, 24) and this is my beloved oh mireu (19991002). i’ve not written him in a while, but i missed him a lot and am so excited to be able to write him again. he’s many things, but first and foremost the eldest, tallest, main dancer & main rapper of true north. he’s largely regarded as an ‘ace’, and ‘it boy’ or ‘golden boy’ due to his sparkling reputation and ‘lead boy’-esque looks, alongside seemingly being good at everything (he’s not, but he’s good at making it seem like he is). feel free to have a look at his biography, profile and career pages, and if you’d like to plot please like this post and i’ll hop into your messages. i also have discord available upon request !! you can also find more condensed information about mireu under the cut.  

⸻ TLDR

mireu was born in burlington, vermont. his parents had gone to university in vermont (where they’d met) and had decided to stay and start a family there when they found jobs after graduating. however, when he was seven, his paternal grandfather in busan fell ill and his parents decided to move back home to look after him. from this point on mireu’s life bloomed like a flower in spring. he excelled in school, was well-liked by students and teachers alike, and still kept up with extracurriculars. he began getting called ‘golden boy’ around this time. he was top of his class, class president, took part in acting classes, piano lessons and the school choir, until he was signed by everlast ent. at just fourteen years old. for the next four years he starred in multiple dramas until he decided to head in a more music-focused direction. when his contract expired with everlast, he signed with secret garden and made his debut in true north a year and a half later. since then he starred in multiple dramas and movies, won an award for his acting, been on the cover of multiple magazines and hosted music shows and festivals. 

⸻ UNDER THE SKIN

🐰 mireu is an exceptionally gentle person in all aspects of life. he’s a ‘slow-paced’ person, and he’d usually be described as having a calming aura. he doesn’t like violence, or shouting, and is flexible and persistent in finding ways to deal with conflicts or disagreements. he’s a very loyal, family-oriented person, who will always put his loved ones first and protect them with his life, but is never overbearing in his protectiveness. he knows when to let people have their space, and when they need him to take on a caretaker/protector role, which he leans towards naturally. he’s often seen as a ‘mothering’ type, and given he’s the eldest in his group, this side of him comes out a lot around his members. he’s a tender, loving person, who loves to show how much he cares through cooking for his loved ones, fixing their hair and clothes, waking them up in the mornings and planning outings with them.

🐰 no man is perfect, though, and mireu is a good example of that. he loves lifes luxuries. he loves good clothing, perfumes, spa retreats, skincare, haircare, and going to the theatre. so much so, in fact, that it’s his coping mechanism for when his emotions get the better of him. there have been times in his life when he’s spent so much to try and cheer himself up that he’s spiralled into another problem—having little to no money left. he’s got a pretty good handle on his ‘spending problem’ now, though, and tries to keep a closer eye on his monthly outgoings. this does, however, mean he’s also incredibly generous. giving, to him, bring just as much joy as gaining. he loves to treat his loved ones to nights out, big meals and thoughtful gifts. 

🐰 he can be quite strict about respectfulness and looking good in the eyes of the public, the latter part mainly for himself, but he has been known to stick his nose up at other idols who act poorly to those around them. he’s a believer of being grateful to fans, but never allowing a blur of the line between fan and idol. he finds people not respecting those older than them, or above them in work-related settings very uncomfortable and likely won’t associate with people who don’t at least show a base level of respect. however, he’s not a rigid person, and will always hear someone out if they believe they had a reason for acting a certain way. 

🐰 he is a huge romantic. he loves romance, and love, and affection. he’s been in two long term relationships since he was sixteen, and his last relationship ended two years ago, leading to his first ever big ‘spending problem’. he’s a bit more realistic with romance and dating these days, and isn’t looking to rush into anything given his focus on his career. even so, he can’t help but find the idea of love and dating very alluring, and while he doesn’t intend to date, he’s aware that he has very little self-control when it comes to matters of the heart. he’s a big softy inside, after all.

[assamkraft]

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[spyskrapbook]

"Herzog & de Meuron" Exhibition _ 14.07 - 15.10.2023 _ The Gabrielle Jungels-Winkler Galleries, Burlington Gardens, Royal Academy of Arts, London, UK _ Photos by Spyros Kaprinis [23.09.2023].

[thelittledragons]

Royal Botanical Garden, Burlington, Ontario, Canada, March 2023.

[fleurcareil]

Leaving Canada

After finishing the road trip, the last 2 weeks of September were a whirlwind of activities to sort out things and say goodbye one more time before leaving the country. Although I may have benefited from staying a bit longer, having been on the road for so long made me ready to close off this phase and look forward to the next one, going back home to Europe! 🤩

First priority was to clean everything that I had been traveling with (with thanks to lots of space and a garden hose😁) and then figure out what to put into storage and what to bring as luggage. Initially my intent had been to travel straight from France to Chile, however due to exorbitant one-way air fares, I ended up booking a return ticket back to TO for mid-January.... not sure how this is all going to work out but for now it means that I'm only travelling with one suitcase instead of the 3 that I had already pre-packed. Easier to carry but harder to fit my clothes! 😅

Second key item was to get my car sold, so I got the car deep cleaned over lunch with Tara... something I've never done but should really have given myself as a gift much earlier! 😄 I thought the guy had done a great job at making my car look brand-new again, but he actually apologized to me as he hadn't managed to remove all bug residue from the grill nor the grit of the endless unpaved roads from the tires...the downfall of such an extensive road trip!

That afternoon, 3 accidents on the QEW highway meant that traffic was jammed for miles around, so I tried to wait it out by visiting the first 2 car dealers to get a sense of their offer... suddenly everything seemed wrong with my fab drive, as it needed new tires, new brakes, a chip in the window etc etc... 😯😪 I recognize the sales tactics for what they were but they still pulled me down, so by the time I got back home after taking 1.5 hours over a 20min drive, I was shaken & thoroughly fed up!

Next day, I toured a few more dealers who all basically said the same and then just cut my losses to get it over with (I must be the worst negotiator on earth! 🤣) ... I absolutely have had an amazing time driving my Rogue and I still loved everything about it, but it was time to say goodbye and move on.

Being a bit emotional after signing the papers, I drove by my old house in Burlington (where the new tenants are neglecting the pretty roses I had planted 😣) and then sat on my favourite bench in Paletta Park overlooking Lake Ontario. A mere 10 minutes' walk from where I used to live, I would often come here over my lunch break or after work, a great spot to relax! 😊

Next day, after having handed in the car & safely deposited the cheque at the bank, I was happy to go over to Priyanka & Arnie for a traditional Hungarian dish and meet again with their lovely parents. I first met Priyanka's parents at our MBA graduation over 10 years ago and we've been in touch ever since, having shared many dinners (including with my parents and in Delhi 🤗), theater plays, a powwow and ofcourse the wedding in India! 😍😍

On Friday, I spent hoouuuurs on the internet and phone to arrange anything from bank accounts & medical insurance to booking flights for my travels in Europe. Felt good to clean house and try to close as many things as possible before leaving. In the evening, we had delicious pizza & craft beer in the "Shed" in downtown Dundas.

That Saturday, it was fun times at the Ancaster Fall Fair with Arpita, Navneet and his cousin Nithia. 🤩 I had never been to a farm fair, which had everything from a hot sauce contest, cow & chicken displays to nitro-chilled snacks and prizes for the prettiest tomatoes, hay bales and funny-looking veggies! 😂 Quite an experience and a great afternoon!

On Sunday, I went with Heather for a hike in nearby Dundas Valley conservation area, my favourite forest west of the GTA. I've been here so often that I know most trails by heart but this time we walked in from a residential area on the side so that the forest still felt new. 😀

I spent the second week in Toronto where I lived for 11 years - my personal record of living that long in one city! 😊 - and it felt really good to roam the streets (albeit only for a short period of time before the craziness got to me 😫). For four days I crammed in as many friends as I could see, starting with a great backyard dinner with my old team. Having 9 different cultural backgrounds being represented leads to ever-interesting diverse conversations! 😍

On Tuesday, I had cozy lunch and dinner with my two good friends Kathryn and Lynne, both a bit senior to me hence always providing me with valuable insights that help me put things in a different perspective. 🥰 They're both great examples of how we can continue to have fulfilling lives for many years to come! 😘

Then on Wednesday, a lunch walk with Dana through my old 'hood and the Riverdale Farm, followed by relaxing tea with Natasha, Lance and their mother who I've also known since coming to Toronto and by whom I spent a memorable Christmas in Trinidad & Tobago. 🤩 In the evening, the drinks were tasty as usual when meeting with a loosely connected 😅 but somehow gelling group of Real Estate friends... always a good time!

On my last day in Toronto, I caught up with Harvey over Indian Roti and then had a few lovely hours at the new Love Park at the harbourfront. My final date was with my camping-sailing-drinking group of friends 😎 at the Queen Mother Café, a downtown thai restaurant where I used to go often in the first years. We're all a bit wiser (?!? 😂) then when we first met years ago but the laughs are still there!

Tired & having a terrible cold but feeling blessed with all those friendships, I made my way back to Dundas, where I was grateful to spend the last day with Arpita and Navneet, working a bit in the garden and playing the cool card game Dominion at night.

On the 30th September, they dropped me off to the airport, ready to fly home! 💖💖💖

[beardedmrbean]

CONCORD, N.H. -- A hermit known as River Dave — whose cabin in the New Hampshire woods burned down after he had spent nearly three decades on the property and was ordered to leave — has found a new home in Maine.

David Lidstone, 82, has put in windows and is working on installing a chimney on his rustic three-room cabin, which he said is on land he bought.

“The foundation needs repair work," Lidstone, who received more than $200,000 in donations following the fire, said in a phone interview on Monday. “It's just an old camp, but I enjoy working (on it)."

Lidstone, who grew up in Maine, declined to say where he was living or provide a contact for the landowner. A search of Maine county registers of deeds did not show any recent transactions involving Lidstone, but a cousin confirmed that he had moved to Maine, and a Facebook post had photos of Lidstone with a family member in his new home.

“He's working on putting it together, and clearing land, and planting gardens, and he's got some chickens. He's moving on," said Horace Clark, of Vermont, Lidstone's cousin.

Lidstone said he had to leave Canterbury, New Hampshire, over his dispute with a different landowner since 2016 over a patch of forest near the Merrimack River that Lidstone called home for 27 years. A judge issued an injunction in 2017 for him to leave after the landowner, Leonard Giles, sued him, and another judge recently ruled Lidstone would receive a $500-a-day fine if he didn't move.

There have been many delays in the case. Besides the pandemic, Lidstone didn't always show up for court, and he was in and out of jail as he resisted the injunction.

It also was difficult to serve Lidstone with a notice to appear in court. There's no road access to the property, which is about a mile and a half (2.4 kilometers) into the woods. In January, one process server slipped, fell down an embankment and injured his leg in his attempt to reach Lidstone, according to a motion filed by Giles' attorney.

In March, a judge said Lidstone would face the daily fine if he didn't leave the area by April 11. The judge ruled Lidstone also has to pay some of Giles' legal fees. Separately, Lidstone faces trespassing charges in connection with the property.

Giles, 87, of South Burlington, Vermont, died in July. It wasn't immediately clear if his death changes the status of the case. His attorney didn't respond to a request for comment.

Lidstone said he was sad to hear that Giles died. “I had nothing against the old man," he said.

But he seems to be embracing his new life.

“I’ve got all kinds of friends up here," he said. “I’ve had friends every weekend, all summer."

Last August, while Lidstone was in jail over the property dispute, his cabin, which had solar panels, burned down as it was being dismantled at Giles’ request. The local fire chief said the fire was accidental.

Lidstone agreed to collect his remaining possessions. He had secured temporary housing as he figured out where to live next — he had offers — and believed that he could not go back to being a hermit. But late last year, he returned to live in a shed on the property that had survived the fire, prompting more legal action.

“Sometimes, you have to stand up for what is right,” he said in January.

Court records said the undeveloped property has been in the Giles family since 1963 and is used for timber harvests.

Lidstone, who represented himself in court, had claimed that years ago, the current owner’s father gave his word — but nothing in writing — allowing him to live there. He also disputed whether he was on the property in the first place.

[coochiequeens]

“ they said that I am here for safety no please understand that I am here for punishment” - man in a dress who doesn’t get the point of being in prison for murder

US — Burlington County, New Jersey. A male inmate was last month transferred to a prison for young adult offenders after being found to have impregnated two women while incarcerated in a women’s facility. In July 2011 at the age of 16, Demi Minor, a male formerly known as Demetrius Minor, killed 69-year-old foster father Theotis Butts. The teen boy pleaded guilty to Manslaughter, as well as to a charge of Carjacking in a separate case, and was handed a 30-year sentence for the crimes. Last year, the New Jersey Department of Corrections (NJDOC) instituted a policy championed by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) that allows inmates to be housed by their declared gender identity rather than their sex if it is determined that the individual inmate would not present a health or safety risk to other inmates in that environment.

Mr Minor, who identifies as female, was one of several inmates placed in women’s prison under NJDOC policy. In April, it was discovered that Mr Minor had impregnated two women while incarcerated at the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women in Clinton. NJDOC spokesperson Dan Sperrazza confirmed that the 27-year-old was transferred to Garden State Youth Correctional Facility, a prison in Burlington County that houses adults aged 18-30. All inmates at the facility are male, and Mr Minor is being held in a vulnerable unit, the spokesman said. Mr Minor reported on his blog Justice 4 Demi that he is “not safe” at the “violent youth correctional facility,” and is appealing to the commissioner and governor to return him to the women’s facility. The inmate says he is on suicide watch after “I had hung myself in the van” following incidents in which his right under New Jersey’s gender identity prison policy to be “strip searched by a female officer” was denied and “I was called he and him well over 30 times,” in addition to “psychological damage that has been done from moving me out of a womens [sic] prison to a male facility.” Mr Minor complained dramatically:

“The fact that this prison does not have air, does not have cable does not allow video visits does not have and [sic] LGBT groups is mind blowing, yet they said that I am here for safety no please understand that I am here for punishment, just the sad part is this punishment may kill me. “

The NJDOC’s settlement agreement with the ACLU, which mandates that housing according to gender identity remains in place for at least a year, expired last month.   ACTION

To express your views on the settlement agreement between the NJDOC and ACLU that is up for renewal, use the contact information below:

Commissioner Victoria L. Kuhn, Esq. State of New Jersey, Department of Corrections Address: Whittlesey Road, PO Box 863, Trenton, NJ 08625 Mercer County

Phone: (609) 292-4036

Fax: (609) 292-9083

Contact Form: https://www.state.nj.us/corrections/pages/emailForm.html

Twitter: NJ_DOC