#hanna england

[demonspeeding666]

Happy Riot Grrrl day and Women's day and history month

[train-whistles-at-night]

He's usually a cross-stitch guy

[glimmerofawesome]

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1917 – Hanna Sheehy Skeffington travelled to New York with her son, Owen, to speak about her husband's murder during the Easter Rising.

In an interview with the New York Times, Hanna Sheehy Skeffington says she was determined to come to America to tell people about ‘my husband’s murder’, despite the British government’s refusal to give her a passport. ‘I am not willing to tell how I got here’, she said, before adding that she had been forced to adopt a disguise to elude the British authorities. She is accompanied by her 7-year…

[richwall101]

Autumn Storms by Hanna Woodman

Hannah Woodman was born in 1968 in Totnes, Devon. England She studied at Exeter College of Art and Design and the Courtauld Institute of Art, London, before training to teach at the London Institute of Education, where she later gained an MA in Museums and Galleries in Education. Having taught and lectured in schools, museums and galleries for six years she turned to painting full time. Since then she has had a series of sell-out solo shows and her work is now held in private and public collections, both at home and abroad. Hannah is based in Cornwall and Devon, where she works from her studios on the South coast.

[bumblebeeappletree]

'The stone is a symbol of cultural imperialism' — Egyptian archaeologists are calling for the return of the Rosetta Stone, a 2,200-year-old artifact that was taken 200+ years ago

For more world news, subscribe to NowThis News.

#rosettastone #egypt #history #Politics #News #NowThis

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - June 20, 2023

🐕 - Meet Sheep Farm's Newest Employee: Collie Hired After Ejection from Car!

1. Border Collie ejected from car during Sunday crash found on sheep farm, herding sheep

Tilly, the 2-year-old Border Collie who was ejected from a car Sunday during a crash, has been found. He was found on a sheep farm, where he had apparently taken up the role of sheep herder. 

According to Tilly's owner, he has lost some weight since Sunday's crash and is now drinking lots of water but is otherwise healthy.

2. After 17-Year Absence, White Rhinos Return to the Democratic Republic of the Congo

The Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) recently welcomed the reintroduction of 16 southern white rhinoceroses to Garamba National Park, according to officials. The last wild northern white rhino was poached there in 2006.

The white rhinos were transported to Garamba, which lies in the northeastern part of the country, from a South African private reserve. In the late 19th century, the southern white rhino subspecies was believed to be extinct due to poaching until a population of fewer than 100 was discovered in South Africa in 1895, according to WWF.

3. UK to wipe women’s historic convictions for homosexuality

Women with convictions for some same-sex activity in the United Kingdom can apply for a pardon for the first time, the Home Office has announced.

The Home Office is widening its scheme to wipe historic convictions for homosexual activity more than a decade after the government allowed applications for same-sex activity offences to be disregarded.

It means anyone can apply for a pardon if they have been convicted or cautioned for any same-sex activity offences that have been repealed or abolished.

4. Study shows human tendency to help others is universal

A new study on the human capacity for cooperation suggests that, deep down, people of diverse cultures are more similar than you might expect. The study, published in Scientific Reports, shows that from the towns of England, Italy, Poland, and Russia to the villages of rural Ecuador, Ghana, Laos, and Aboriginal Australia, at the micro scale of our daily interaction, people everywhere tend to help others when needed.

5. In a First, Wind and Solar Generated More Power Than Coal in U.S.

Wind and solar generated more electricity than coal through May, an E&E News review of federal data shows, marking the first time renewables have outpaced the former king of American power over a five-month period.

The milestone illustrates the ongoing transformation of the U.S. power sector as the nation races to install cleaner forms of energy to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from fossil fuels.

6. Iceland becomes latest country to ban conversion therapy

Lawmakers in Iceland on June 9 approved a bill that will ban so-called conversion therapy in the country.

Media reports note 53 members of the Icelandic Parliament voted for the measure, while three MPs abstained. Hanna Katrín Friðriksson, an MP who is a member of the Liberal Reform Party, introduced the bill.

7. The temple feeding 100,000 people a day

Amritsar, the north Indian city known for its Golden Temple and delicious cuisine, is also renowned for its spirit of generosity and selfless service. The city, founded by a Sikh guru, embodies the Sikh tradition of seva, performing voluntary acts of service without expecting anything in return.

This spirit of giving extends beyond the temple walls, as the Sikh community has shown immense compassion during crises, such as delivering oxygen cylinders during the COVID-19 pandemic. At the heart of Amritsar's generosity is the Golden Temple's langar, the world's largest free communal kitchen, serving 100,000 people daily without discrimination. Despite a history marred by tragic events, Amritsar continues to radiate kindness, love, and generosity.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

BUY ME A COFFEE ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[tornrose24]

This is probably going to be the last update to this AU for a month or so since I will need a break from it to work on other stuff (with maybe an exception for a Halloween related drawing).

Also, I think since I never named them yet, Suzie's friend is named 'Jules.'

Lily, Suzie, Nate, Jules, and all the puppeteers are mine.

Oh, and since I wasn't able to, here's more info on the pupeteers:

-George Donovan–a comedian and voice actor. Known for doing a few comedic guest roles on TV shows in the 50’s and 60’s. Was known to have two sons. Was supposed to do a few voice roles for Hanna-Barbera in addition to working for Playfellow Workshop. Was known to be allergic to chocolate.

-Elizabeth Callister– an LA stage actress known for doing voice roles in a few cartoons. Daughter of a well-known producer, which allowed her to enter the ranks of the entertainment industry. Said to be ‘spoiled sweet’ and was hoping to entertain children. Was said to show small signs of what might have been ADHD.

–Stanley Hersh– a stage actor from New York. Son of Jewish-Polish immigrants who came to America in the early 1930s. Was said to continue his family’s store if he wouldn’t be able to make it into show business. It is believed Welcome Home would have been his biggest break prior to his disappearance.

–Zelda duPont– a singer and stage actress. Was involved with a few civil rights movements under a different name along the East coast. It is presumed that she was hired as a puppeteer because ‘no one is supposed to see who is playing them.’

-Louise Sherman–a well-known trans actress from the 60’s, yet was better known in the LGBTQ community as opposed to a wider audience. Supposedly a friend of Welcome Home’s creator. Spent a few years abroad in England and had been involved with a few Shakespeare plays.

-Travis McCoy–an actor from Texas. Had starred in a few Westerns and Romantic-Comedy projects. Was said to be very popular with his female fans due to his charm and good looks, but was never seen dating anyone up until his disappearance.

-Bertrand Parsons–a New England and New York stage actor also known for doing voice roles. Was also well-known in the LGBTQ community, yet this was kept silent from the main public for many decades. It is believed by some that his name is in fact a stage name.

–Walter Jones–Little is known about him, but he was a puppeteer for a few shows. Was said to be good friends with Welcome Home’s creator (and some suspected that the two might have been more than friends). It is believed Welcome Home would have been his big break given that he was to voice the main star of the show. He was given a draft card just before the show aired, and it is believed that he–like many other young men–escaped to Canada to avoid the draft.

[torturingpeople]

A frenetic and bizarre gentleman!

You're rather intent on discovering what seems to be the fuss about this 'Hilbert's Grand Hotel' you've been hearing whispers of...

Some say the Parlor of Virtue isn't nearly as brazen as their female staff. Others mention the ringleader of the hotel is a doctor, and equally a maniacal angel of death, and that his right-hand man is a pathologist, who is apparently more of a lapdog than a member of staff. Regardless, it has appeared out of thin air somewhere between Veilgarden and Spite, and you're not all that pleased with how much upheaval it has caused.

Once you make it through the rusted copper gate with 'HILBERT'S GRAND HOTEL' spelled in serifed lettering above it, you step through the large glass-pane doors, and find -- God forbid! -- a man of middle age, dressed in nothing but his shirtsleeves and a lab coat! The horror! The scandal! The humanity!

Offer him, at the least, your jacket He looks destitute, and you would not be surprised if his issue was that he could not afford a jacket, so much as his racy outfit being a choice he decided to make.

Trying to hide your appalled expression, you remove your jacket carefully, and place it over his shoulders in an awkward fashion. Neither of you are sure whether this helped -- he is still in his shirtsleeves, and you are now only in a waistcoat. Neither of you are in a good position to be seen. With a nervous disposition, he mumbles a confused "thank you," accepting your coat and sliding his arms through the sleeves. You see some cousin of annoyance flicker in his expression but you hold your tongue.

Ask him what in the Neath possessed him to dress in this manner Surely, this will confirm your previous theory.

He raises an eyebrow in similar scepticism. "What on Earth are you talking about? The Neath? Anyway -- this is officewear. I seriously don't understand why I've gotten sixteen strange looks from people wearing four layers minimum. In the summer." You take your own turn to raise an eyebrow and look around the hotel. It looks an awful lot like The Royal Bethlehem. Have they gone through a rebrand? It would surely make sense. The gentleman in front of you is very clearly insane. His speech patterns are strangely novel and you can't pinpoint why exactly he is so... weird.

Ask him to explain in a more direct manner Being euphemistic is getting both of you nowhere.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand. What is the 'Neath'? 'Royal Bethlehem'? Well, I suppose they do have Bedlam in England. Good film, too. 1946, I think... Anna Lee..." He's trailing off now, but wakes himself out of the gibberish he's started speaking to look back at you instead of the ceiling. "I don't understand what you're talking about. We're in America. Not London." To hopefully progress the conversation somewhere other than a strange 'film' that hails from the future, you lead him toward the glass panes and point up at the sky. False-stars glitter above you both, and his eyebrows furrow impossibly as he gazes upon the surroundings. "Well. This is... definitely not America. Now I look like an idiot." You confess to him that he did seem a little... well, mad. Hence, the reference to The Royal Beth. "You'd best not say that around Dr. Hanna," he warns you. "It... wouldn't be wise of you to do that. Not with a man like him."

Investigate more about this 'Dr. Hanna' fellow You might have heard him called the Inexorable Mutilator once or twice. What could possibly go wrong? INVESTIGATE

Talk to his Timorous Pathologist a little more This poor man is so frail and impoverished that you cannot help but be intrigued. Plus, you need to make sure he keeps that jacket on, God forbid he flashes any other unsuspecting potential guest. CHAT (NOT ENOUGH ACTIONS)

Wander around Hilbert's Grand Hotel It looks uncannily similar to The Royal Beth. The wallpaper is practically the same, merely inverted and floral. You can't help but wonder if this is a coincidence of good design, or a mere copycat that seems to have manifested into existence of its own volition. Whatever the reason, you find it pertinent to take a gander at the establishment. EXPLORE

Leave Hilbert's Grand Hotel It is probably for your own good that you leave before you meet 'a man like him'. GO (0)

hello everyone!! this is going to serve as the introduction/navigation post for a crossover between my wip novella, hilbert's grand hotel, and fallen london! this was made in partnership with @tessellated-sunl1ght (and his lovely adorable fallen london ocs are involved too, so i will be tagging him in the posts they both show up in!) so if you have any problems with how nonsensically this fits into the canon take it up with him not me. i just got here

also the reason it's called the salad spinner au is because we took the mc out of the salad spinner and put him here. not sure whether this is better or worse. but it's ok!

this format was inspired very much by @violant-apologia's pinned post!! thank you so much for the inspiration ^_^

the header and divider were designed by me also! :-) and the not enough actions just means i haven't finished the posts the last parts will link to LOL

[givemea-dam-break]

ephemeral - chapter three

a/n: i hope you all enjoy this - the next part will have a lot more going on, i promise!

warnings: mild language gn reader

full collection: here

The next morning is spent at 35 Portland Row, the four of you - you, Lockwood, Lucy, and George - pouring over the contents of the file you stole not even twelve hours ago. Still, after a comfortable nap in Lucy's bed, you feel as if you've been running only recently, heart pounding and feet aching. Nothing a good brew won't fix.

"It looks like the mansion used to be home to this family - the Mortons - in the early eighteen-hundreds," George says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "All of them died in a house fire, save for the only daughter and her son. Some theories suggest she started the fire so that her son would inherit the money instead of one of her six brothers, but it was never confirmed. She went mad a few years later while they were living in northern England after the son died from tuberculosis when he was eight."

Lucy frowns, taking a bite out of her glazed doughnut. A few crumbs fall on her pyjamas. "Bit grim. So, do we think it's the dead family haunting the mansion? I mean, they were killed in the fire - if not murdered - so they've possibly got a reason to come back."

"The report says there were at least five Type Twos," you say, carefully sipping your tea so as to not spill it over the aged paper. "Two men, three women. A mix of Phantasms and Wraiths. The kid who died was ghost-touched by one of the Phantasms. The one who was driven mad had been ghost-locked by a Wraith. The supervisor barely got that one and the other agent out alive. Wait..."

"What is it?" Lockwood leans over the arm of his chair, his face coming far too close to yours.

"My old supervisor - she was one of the kids on that case."

"Hanna Reid?" Lockwood takes the report from your hand, scanning over the writing.

"She was your supervisor?" George asks. "Maybe we could ask her for help, see what advice she could give."

You shake your head, taking the report back from Lockwood and trying to ignore how his fingers brush yours almost purposefully. "No, she never spoke about her cases, really. She was a good supervisor, but she wasn't entirely there, you know? Besides, it'd reveal that we were the ones that broke in yesterday. All that would lead to is DEPRAC arresting us and Steve Rotwell sending this company into an early grave."

"So we can't ask her for help," Lockwood says. "What else do we know? Do we have a layout of the mansion, anything else the report itself tells us?"

"Here's the layout," Lucy says, pushing forward an architectural plan. "Big place. It's got a ballroom and everything."

George takes the plan. "The fire originated in the east wing of the house, over by the drawing room, but the report says that the team found a source in the ballroom under the floorboards. Obviously, it wasn't the only source, because there are ghosts still lingering."

"This is assuming these ghosts are the same ones from almost two decades ago," Lockwood reminds you all. "Could be a completely different set of Visitors. They might well have triggered a new haunting."

Lucy groans. "How are we meant to be prepared for tonight? This kind of case needs a few days' worth of preparation, not one morning."

"Not to make things worse," George says, "but Miss Jeffries called earlier on, Lockwood. We're prohibited from using magnesium flares seeing as her party is tomorrow night and she doesn't want her mansion blown to pieces."

Now you groan, plucking an Apricot Danish from the plate on the coffee table. "So a repeat of Combe Carey Hall, then, except this time we won't even have a smuggled-in bomb flare."

"I could arrange something," Lockwood says, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"No, I don't think that'd be a good idea," George says. "As much as I'd love to get my eardrums assaulted again, we have to go about this all differently."

Lockwood doesn't let that discourage him. "Well, we'll stock up on extra salt bombs, and I can head to Satchel's to pick up some heavy-duty chains."

"Lucy, go with him, won't you?" you say around your pastry. "Make sure he doesn't get flares. I'll pack the bags here."

If the prospect of getting dressed and leaving the house bothers Lucy, she doesn't show it. "I've missed you mothering him."

The comment stops you cold. George chokes on his biscuit. Lockwood isn't moving. Lucy's eyes widen.

"Sorry, I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," you say, swallowing. It's his fault I've not been here to do it. "I'm going to go pack our kits. George, here are the rest of the reports. I'll be in the basement."

--

One of Lucy's mixtapes is blaring from the speakers down in the basement, and the loud music is a good distraction from your thoughts. With it playing, you can focus on oiling the chains you've picked out and packing the kits with everything you might need. Salt bombs - you've spent a good hour or so making another batch - along with packets of gum in each bag to save George having to figure out who's got it, some snacks unique to each person, a flask of tea in Lockwood's for everyone to share. Once the chains are finished, you wind them up as tightly as you can manage and shove them into the kits.

The whole routine comes to you too easily. It isn't hard to forget everything and pretend, and, oh, how you would love to pretend that the past eight months never happened, but you have to keep reminding yourself that it did. After this case, you'll never see Lockwood again.

It surprises you how much it hurts to think about that. You hate him for what he did, and he probably doesn't particularly like you after things you said that extended far past calling him a conceited asshole, but, surprisingly, you hate the thought of never seeing him again more.

This is just a taste of what it would be like to be with the team again, and you've found yourself enjoying it. You've no issue with Lucy or George, but even being with Lockwood isn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be. Do you really never want to see him again?

I'll stay away until you're ready to speak to me again, or forever if I have to.

A little part of you is smiling at the memory of his words. The arrogant prick knew you wouldn't be able to stay away.

"Am I interrupting something?"

You jump, turning to find George at the foot of the basement stairs. "Oh, George, hey! No, you're not. I've just finished packing our kits."

"Oh, ok, just that you were staring at Skull for longer than any sane person would manage."

"Was I?" You look over at the skull trapped in the Silverglass jar, the Type Three only Lucy can speak to, and cringe as he pulls a grotesque face. "Right. Everything alright, George?"

"Lockwood's just called. He and Lucy have stocked up on more chains, filings, the sorts, and want us to meet them at the train station so we can head to the mansion. Better to get a feel for the place as soon as."

"Have you got the information you need?"

George takes off his glasses, cleaning the lenses on his jumper. "Some, but I'll admit, I don't feel good about this case. We've had even less time to prepare than we did for Combe Carey, and we're going in almost completely blind as to what we're facing. Will it be the ghosts of the family? Some other ones we don't know about?"

You can tell that the whole thing is frustrating him even more than he's showing. For George not to have found much on the mansion outwith what you got in the folder from the Rotwell archives, it must be infuriating. You know how much he hates not knowing things.

"Right," he says. "I'll get my shoes on, then we'll go."

And so you do.

Lockwood and Lucy are already at the station when you both arrive, hoisting heavy chains over their shoulders. By the time you reach them, you're sweating from carrying two kit bags plus Lucy's rucksack in which Skull resides. Your respect for Lucy has only increased after having to lug the heavy case around.

"Extra salt bombs are at the top of all the kit bags," you say, handing Lucy her bag and rucksack. "Your belts are also there, with even more salt bombs and pouches of the usual filings. Two sets of chains in mine and Lockwood's bags, one in Lucy's and George's. I've also put some snacks and tea in. Figured we'd get hungry before the night's even over."

Lockwood grins. "You're the best, (name)."

"I know I am. I wouldn't be here otherwise." You reach into your kit bag and pull out a paper bag, infinitely glad the contents haven't leaked. "Oh, also, milkshakes for everyone, courtesy of Arif."

You pass them around - strawberry and chocolate for Lucy, banana for George, your own unique recipe for yourself, and mint chocolate for Lockwood. It feels nice to hand them out, even nicer to have been able to remember their favourites.

Eventually, you all board the train, sipping milkshakes as the air conditioning whirs quietly. The train is packed with people going on holiday, but the four of you manage to get yourselves a table seat, thanks to your heavy kits and gleaming rapiers.

Although you're providing a vital service, you still get glares from some of the passengers. You remind them of exactly what they're trying to escape.

"So, what's new?" Lockwood asks.

George, who sits beside him, spreads his notes out along with a few sheets from the report and images of the house and its layout. Lucy moves his milkshake out of the way.

"Not much, honestly," George says. "Thanks, Lucy. Okay, well, like I said earlier, the source that had been found by the last team was here in the ballroom, but there has to be at least one more seeing as more ghosts attacked on their way out."

"So what are you thinking?" you ask.

He's got that sparkle in his eye again. "There are at least two ghosts left, a Wraith and a Phantasm, but I called up one of the maids who had been working at the mansion and asked her a few questions. She's younger, not young enough to still have any Talents, but her senses are still more heightened than her coworkers. She said the first time she felt one of the ghosts had been on the second floor, up where the servants' rooms are, when she was heading to bed. The second time, the feeling followed her around the house as she was finishing up.

"Another one of the maids was ghost-touched as she was leaving, right at the front doors. Thankfully, she was driven to the nearest hospital in time to get an adrenaline shot and she's in recovery now. Some of the others have commented about feeling like they're being followed or chased, but after the ghost-touch, none of them will set foot in the house."

Taking a sip of his milkshake, Lockwood says, "So, we've got ghosts immediately on the ground floor and then on the second floor, too. That leaves the first floor potentially safe, but we need to keep our wits about us. We'll all go floor by floor to check the place out, together to begin with, and then we'll work from there. Sound good?"

You all nod in agreement.

For a little bit after that, you're able to relax. You sit and sip your milkshakes, talking about this and that, poking fun at each other. It's nice being able to do so, to smile and laugh as if you're just regular kids, hanging out during the summer holidays like kids would've done so many years ago. You can pretend your rapiers and kit bags aren't there, replaced with rucksacks filled with snacks and games to play.

But the feeling is short-lived.

Soon enough, the train stops momentarily at a station, and you all file out, Lockwood leading the charge.

The fresh air, free of noise and air pollution, is incredible. You can smell freshly cut grass and a distinctly summer-like smell, and in the town that connects to the station, you can hear children squealing with glee. It should be lovely to be surrounded by such peace, but the taxi in front of you ruins it.

It's a big slab of black, with a young man in the driver's seat and, while it's different from the night cabs agents usually have to take, it makes you feel uneasy. This case is giving you a bad feeling, and this taxi is only going to take you closer.

It takes a lot of squishing for everyone to fit in the back of the taxi, but you manage eventually. Really, one of you should sit in the front passenger's seat - Lockwood - but the driver insists you'll all fit just fine.

"Ow, Lockwood, you're proper digging me into the door!" you grumble.

"I can't move! Lucy, shuffle over a touch."

"George is in the way!"

"Well, then, George, you move."

"I'm stuffed into the door, too! I can't move anywhere."

"Everybody comfy?" the driver asks. Before any of you even get the chance to reply, he says, "Good. Let's go. Where to?"

Lockwood shifts slightly, elbowing you in the ribs accidentally. "Elmview Estate, please."

The car jolts to a start, and suddenly you're whizzing down the roads at a speed that is probably illegal. You're not sure - you can't see the speed dial. Every twist and turn has you all jamming into each other, and multiple times you end up with Lockwood's elbow dug into some part of your body painfully. Yours does the same, but not every time is accidental, and Lockwood may have caught onto that fact.

If you were travelling a tad slower, you're sure the view would be beautiful as you leave the town and enter the countryside. The distant hills are a blur, and the trees move by so quickly they're but a blur of green. Once or twice, you pass groups of cyclists, and you're pretty shocked by the fact that the driver hasn't hit any of them.

To be honest, this guy's licence should probably be revoked.

But he gets you where you need to go. You reach the estate sooner than you should've which, at least, gives you more time to scope out the mansion. In a very strange way, you're all grateful for the guy.

"Don't tell anyone we were here," Lockwood says to the driver, handing him extra money.

"Gotcha. Stay safe, kiddos."

Then he's speeding off down the lane and out of sight.

George scoffs. "Kiddos. He's not even that much older than us."

Slowly, you all turn towards the house. It's a hulking beast of a thing, towering three storeys tall with massive windows on all floors. Balconies made of stone and wrought iron host beautiful flowering plants. A set of large white steps lead up to the large double doors, made from white metal of some sort and stained glass depicting some scene or another that, really, should be one of the most stunning things about the house. But it's smashed as though someone fell through it. Elm trees surround the house, bursting with green leaves that blow gently in the breeze.

"Lovely place," Lockwood says. "If it weren't haunted, I'd like to live here."

"You've nowhere near enough money," you remind him. "And what would you do with all the space? Imagine all the dusting you'd have to do."

"You sound like my mum," George grumbles. "Every time we used to pass a big house when I was a kid, it was: Oh, imagine all the dusting! I'd love to say I've got a mansion, but I'd hate the cleaning."

"I suppose that's why Yvette has maids," Lucy says, staring up at the house. "If you have the money to own a mansion, you have the money for hired help."

"This is all besides the point," Lockwood interrupts, although he's smiling. "We best get started, check out the house while it's light."

With a big, shared sigh, you all climb the steps into the house.

<- part 2 part 4 ->

[train-whistles-at-night]

Messing around with Nyo FrUk designs bc I've been insane abt FrUk in general recently

Punk England is implied to be younger than Current England so that's why there's such a Wild Difference, current FrUk feel like they're in their 40s At Least to me

[glimmerofawesome]

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1917 – Hanna Sheehy Skeffington travelled to New York with her son, Owen, to speak about her husband's murder during the Easter Rising.

#OTD in 1917 – Hanna Sheehy Skeffington travelled to New York with her son, Owen, to speak about her husband’s murder during the Easter Rising.

In an interview with the New York Times, Hanna Sheehy Skeffington says she was determined to come to America to tell people about ‘my husband’s murder’, despite the British government’s refusal to give her a passport. ‘I am not willing to tell how I got here’, she said, before adding that she had been forced to adopt a disguise to elude the British authorities. She is accompanied by her 7-year…

[lostloveletters]

Masters of the Air OC Intro: Marie Hanna

Hailing from Astoria, Queens, NY, 20-year-old Marie Hanna is a self-professed hopeful romantic who’s holding out for the real thing. In the meantime, she’s traversing England with the Red Cross’ Clubmobile service, but she likes to think of Thorpe Abbotts as her home away from home.

Tag | Pinterest | Playlist

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Taking hot dog roasts to a new level of taste

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER NEAR CASSVILLE, WISCONSIN: Picture of a twilight on the river, a hot dog roast being uppermost on our minds ahead of the evening's break from houseboating.

And uppermost on our mind, something a little more old school: as in natural-casing weiners from a meat market in Cassville, some potato hot dog buns--and for some reason, a rather amusing condiment from England which Dum-Dum found on Amazon.com, ultimately after learning of it on some Facebook page given to funny labelling and brand names.

To wit: Daddie's Sauce, a somewhat fruity-tasting brown sauce whose key component is malt vinegar. Sort of in the vein of A-1 or Heinz 57 Sauce, only the colour is a little darker and the flavour undertones more pronounced.

"Certainly quite different than ketchup," Huckleberry Hound remarked. "Which," Dum-Dum explained, "is the attraction of it."

And even when you're around a fire pit of the classic sort, sitting on lawn chairs and grilling your hot dogs on old-school wooden twigs of decent length (except for Touché Turtle, preferring his fencing foil, bent tip and all, to so roast), the taste of coarsely-ground meats in a natural casing just sizzling from a driftwood fire ... on a potato bun ... with Daddie's Sauce all around, not to mention some kettle-cooked potato chips as well ... the twilight giving way to the blue of evening ... what more could life expect?

"Oh yes--our July 4th Character Convo," Huck remarked.

"In Clear Lake, Iowa, even," yours truly replieth. "And to think I spent some interesting time there a couple years back, just wasting some time ... and let's not forget when I ran across the Cattanooga Cats in performance at the Surf Ballroom; heavens to Buddy Holley, The Big Bopper, Ritchie Valens even ..."

"I think I heard something about that encounter somewhere a while back," Bristlehound brought up. "The Cattanooga Cats ... in the Surf Ballroom, of all places!"

"All right, honey, YOU KNOOOOOOWWWWW WHAT I LIKE!!!" chimed forth all of us, channelling The Big Bopper.

"Which reminds me," Huckleberry remarked, "that I may want to do some check-ins with some of the fellow characters to remind them of same being in Clear Lake. And on the 4th of July weekend." Which was bound to take most of the night, but believe you me, thanks to text messaging, he managed to get the aide-mémoire out.

And one especially interesting response: Lippy the Lion, channelling the storied Japanese film character Tora-San, acknowledging he would be on his way.. Well ... before long, it'll be Clear Lake for us.

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[ghostlytales]

Girl in the Woods

A woman in England snapped this spooky photo during a ghost walk at Hessle Foreshore woods in East Riding, Yorks. Legend has it an orphaned girl haunts the woods, watching and waiting for her lost father.

Hanna Butler, the woman who took the photo, was terrified after seeing the spirit and can’t get the orphaned child out of her mind.

“It sounds silly, but after that night I have had dreams about the girl,” Hannah said. “She’s been on my mind a lot. I think of her often, and I still dream about her.”

Similar ghosts have appeared throughout England, including one in Cannock Chase Woods in Staffordshire.