#easter sunday 2019

[3nn-express]

Easter Sunday 2024: Its Importance and How it is Celebrated?

Easter Sunday 2024 Date: This year Easter Sunday is on 31st March. This day is very special for the followers of Christianity. Three days after Good Friday, people of the Christian religion celebrate the festival of Easter Sunday.

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[rabbitcruiser]

Palm Sunday

At National Today, things like triumphs and aspirations get our blood pumping and, this Palm Sunday, which falls on March 24 next, we are ready to welcome and celebrate the occasion. Palm Sunday is the beginning of Jesus’ final week on earth. It is not an official federal holiday, which means that businesses usually are open and running. However, since Palm Sunday falls on a weekend (the Sunday before Easter), it gives people enough time and space to celebrate it by going to church and indulging in other traditions. Each country has its own share of cultural influences on Palm Sunday’s celebrations. For example, in Latvia, Palm Sunday is celebrated as ‘Pussy Willow Sunday’ as these plants are used instead of the regular palm. What’s also interesting is that children are customarily woken up on the day with a swipe of the willow.

History of Palm Sunday

Marking the beginning of an end, Palm Sunday is, undoubtedly, an important day in the history of Christianity. Much can be said about the occasion, from its historical significance to what it has implied in religious terms and such. We take you back to those times when religious miracles abounded.

At its basic, Palm Sunday marks Jesus’ victorious entry into Jerusalem. He entered riding a donkey and the people welcomed him using palm fronds. They laid down the leaves (and their own cloaks too!) on the ground as Jesus entered the city. Some accounts also state that Jesus held some of the palm fronds in his hand and waved these as he passed by. Jesus’ return to the city also fulfilled Prophet Zachariah’s prophecy that the Messiah will return and bring glad tidings for Jerusalem’s people. When Jesus was entering the city, many also shouted, “Hosanna!”, which means “God saves” or “Save now”. The people saw him as the king and ruler of the city, many already aware of his being able to perform miracles like raising the dead and speaking during infancy.

There is also symbolism involved in Palm Sunday. Palms are considered as signs of peace and victory, and Jesus’ entrance being marked by these plants point towards the incoming peace and victories that the people were hoping for. Another symbol is the donkey, and during those times, warlords, bent on hostility, would ride in on horses. But, on the other hand, kings meaning well and peace would ride donkeys to indicate their gentle intentions.

Palm Sunday, which is also known as Passion Sunday, is followed by other important days like Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, with each of these holding special significance unto themselves. Many people celebrate Palm Sunday by visiting churches and reenacting Jesus’ entrance scene. They also take special care of palm fronds during this week as the leaves are considered sacred. The leaves are burned and used in ash form later on in the week.

Palm Sunday  timeline

33 A.D. Jesus’ Entrance in Jerusalem

Jesus rides a donkey into the city of Jerusalem and is welcomed and cheered on by people who see him as their savior.

8th century Controversies Finally Resolved

Many churches are against each other on celebrating Passover as a Jewish day, and things do not resolve themselves until the eighth century.

1513 Florida City Named During Easter Week

The explorer, Ponce de Leon, names Florida city, “Pascua Florida” (Spanish for Palm Sunday), after spotting the island from afar.

20–21st century A Fixed Date for Palm Sunday

Efforts to fix a date for Palm Sunday are made, but nothing comes to fruition.

Palm Sunday FAQs

When was Jesus crucified in the Palm Sunday week?  

Jesus was crucified on Good Friday. He was arrested and mocked a few days earlier. It is believed that he sacrificed himself for the sake of humankind.

Why is Easter significant to the Palm Sunday week?  

Falling a week after Palm Sunday, Easter signifies the Resurrection or Rebirth day for Jesus. Many celebrate the occasion by using eggs, rabbits, and by welcoming spring.

Is it necessary to have a palm to celebrate Palm Sunday?  

No, you do not need a palm to celebrate Palm Sunday. Whatever plant is local to your country or region, you can use it. For example, in India, people use flowers to commemorate the occasion, while in Italy, olive branches are used.

How to Observe Palm Sunday

Visit a church during Palm Sunday

Help out your friends with preparations

Prepare/Learn about Palm Sunday week

You can visit a church and take part in/observe the celebrations. Each country has its own customs, so you can expect an array of different scenarios. In any case, it will be worth it as you will become part of the spirit of peace and gentleness.

As with all important days, there are a ton of preparations to do and so little time to do them. Your friends would appreciate it if you lent a helping hand. Spirit of unity is another important part of Palm Sunday and, by helping out your friends, you are imbibing that very spirit.

Palm Sunday marks just one day of the important week ahead. There’s Good Friday and Shrove Tuesday, just to name a few. Each of these days, until Easter, relays the journey that Jesus went through.

5 Facts About The Palm That Will Blow Your Mind

Palm trees can be quite tall

Holy in other cultures and religions

Palm trees can live for a century

Palms can live/grow in containers

Not all palm fruits are edible

Palm trees are some of the tallest plant species, growing up to 160–200 feet and giving competition to skyscrapers.

Apart from Christianity, palm trees are also considered symbolic in Islam with many in the Arabian countries giving importance to their fruit.

It’s not just their heights that are lengthy but also their lives, as some palm species can grow to be centurions or even older.

You can grow your own palm inside a pot as these are quite versatile plants.

There are palm species whose fruit you cannot eat as they are poisonous and can cause fatal harm.

Why We Love Palm Sunday

It’s a celebration of peace and gentleness

It’s a celebration of hope and harmony

It’s a celebration of different cultures coming together

In a world that is torn apart by violence and polarization, things like peace, calm, and gentleness are much needed. Palm Sunday allows us to take a moment to appreciate the gift of life and all that it has to offer.

The people of Jerusalem had been waiting for generations upon generations for the Messiah to come. Prophet Zachariah’s prophecy took some time to happen, but it eventually did. Palm Sunday promises better times to come, always.

While Palm Sunday is a religious day with fixed standards in terms of importance, each culture celebrates the day with its own customs and traditions. It’s a sign of unity in all senses of the word — unity in togetherness and unity in uniqueness.

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[usafphantom2]

1/: Drawing l did in 2019.

On April 9, 1942, the Japanese Kido-Butai carrier fleet launched their second air attack on the British-controlled island of Ceylon (Sri Lanka), following their first strike on Easter Sunday-April 5. At around 0800, a formation of 132 Japanese planes-

@PeteHill854 via X

[april-is]

April 21, 2024: April Morning, Jonathan Wells

April Morning Jonathan Wells You are living the life you wanted as if you'd known what that was but of course you didn't so you'd groped toward it feeling for what you couldn't imagine, what your hands couldn't tell you, for what that shape could be.

This Sunday the rain turns cold again and steady but the window is slightly open and there is the vaguest sense of bird song somewhere in the gaps between the buildings because it's spring the calendar says and the room where you are reading is empty yet full of what loves you and this is the day that you were born.

--

Today in:

2023: What I Did Wrong, Marie Howe 2022: This Morning, Jay Wright 2021: Kiss of the Sun, Mary Ruefle 2020: Teaching English from an Old Composition Book, Gary Soto 2019: Easter, Jill Alexander Essbaum 2018: Annunciation, Marie Howe 2017: The Promise, Marie Howe 2016: In the Woods, Kathryn Simmonds 2015: Heat, Jane Hirshfield 2014: What Remains, Ellery Akers 2013: 30th Birthday, Alice Notley 2012: Untitled [I closed the book and changed my life], Bruce Smith 2011: The Forties, Franz Wright 2010: Prayer of the Backhanded, Jericho Brown 2009: A Primer, Bob Hicok 2008: Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry, Howard Nemerov 2007: Open Letter to the Muse, Kristy Bowen 2006: A Sad Child, Margaret Atwood 2005: The Crunch, Charles Bukowski

[no-brain-just-akutagawa]

I just found out Fyodor's cello piece from the 3rd season is called "Bird of death" and I find that interesting for a few reasons.

First of all, is it connected to Nikolai? They work together and -shipping aside - if they're actually friends, it would make sense for Fyodor to write a piece either for him or simply inspired by him. Not only are birds associated with Nikolai, but death as well since he was supposed to die by being cut in half. He also kills people, so if we combine all those things, they kind of make him a symbolic bird of death.

Secondly, it would make the cello scene have a slightly different atmosphere as Fyodor would be playing a piece he associates with his friend who's going to die after commiting a series of murders while a different murder is taking place. Also the situation would be even weirder for Katsura because it would mean he was kidnapped by a guy who didn't just play cello for him, but play a piece he associates with his friend. Of course Katsura would have no way of knowing, but still.

Thirdly, does that make Fyodor a bird of death? Because if it's not connected with Nikolai whatsoever, then it's most likely connected with Fyodor himself. It would make sense because he kills people as well, but would also accidentally make both Fyodor and Nikolai be associated with both birds and death (#matchingimagery).

Lastly, how much does studio Bones know?? I checked the dates of manga volume releases and Sunday tragedy chapters did come out back in 2017, so the team working on the anime would have enough time to integrate this title as an easter egg if they wanted to do that (as the 3rd season began in April 2019), but then again it seems like a random idea to allude to a character from a future arc that they weren't animating at the time. Either a member of the team was/is a fan of bsd or they're getting extra info on future events. Bones also seems to be making surprising decisions when adapting the material (such as putting Fyodor in Untold Origins), so I think it's possible they know something we don't.

But it's also possible that Bird of Death has a different meaning that I'm not aware of or it's all just a coincidence haha

[ifreakingloveroyals]

21 April 2019 | Queen Elizabeth II departs the Easter Sunday service at St George's Chapel in Windsor, England. (c) Eamonn M. McCormack/Getty Images

[terminusantequem]

Jaclyn Conley (Canadian, b. 1979), Easter Sunday Oval Office, 2019. Oil on panel, 64 × 96 in.

[nysocboy]

Is There Sex After Death?: A Scotty and Gideon Story

April 21, 2019. Easter Sunday.

Light. Intense, golden light, surrounding him. Not bright, like sunlight, just warm, comfortable, loving -- how can light be loving? -- like sitting on your mother's lap when you are a kid. Scotty wonders if he is a kid. Maybe he has gone back to the womb?

No, there are others around him, some that he once knew, and loved or hated, some who are strangers. Except they aren't strangers now -- he sees the most important moments of their lives, and they, in turn, see Scotty's. At random, not in chronological or thematic order:

Going out to dinner at the Shem Creek Restaurant in Mount Pleasant -- pizza and beer -- and Scotty calls Gideon "Little Lord Fauntleroy." They smile and joke, and hold hands under the table, and the song on the radio, or in his mind, is "You Knock Me Out.” :

The way you talk when you say what you see

Your smile breaking my words – you knock me out.

The way you shake it, baby, the way you get when you get down -- yo u knock me out

The memory of the song, of his smile, fills Scotty with so much joy that he he feels like he will burst. He looks around -- or the equivalent when you don't have a body -- and feels the others sharing his joy.

The Old Man, Jesse Gemstone, takes them all out on his yacht, and in the glittering of the waves, while the kids sit in the wading pool -- a pool on a yacht? -- Jesse offers to become his Daddy, and they hug. He eases into the hug, actually considering the crazy idea for a moment. They could just walk away from the scheme to steal the Easter offering from the Salvation Center, $3,000,000, and settle into lives as a good Christian Gemstone and his boyfriend.

Then he laughs to himself. No way will the Old Man ever admit Scotty to the family, knowing that Scotty has been intimate with his son every night. Evangelicals hate gay sex even more than they hate thinking for yourself. The Easter Offering plan is the only way they can walk side by side into the future.

Driving from California to South Carolina so they can blackmail his father, the world-famous Jesse Gemstone, with a video of his sex-and-drugs party, get even for a childhood of neglect and abuse, and fund their happily-ever-after life in Thailand. They spend the night in a Motel 6 somewhere in New Mexico. Lucy is snoring, and Gideon sits up in the other bed, playing on his cell phone, his face illuminated, as if he is already in the plane of endless light. He must be an angel -- nothing in this shithole world -- sorry, Mom -- could be so beautiful.

One of the others has taken on form -- not really a corporeal form, more like a recognizable presence: a young woman with 1980s helmet hair and circular glasses, a little girl in pigtails standing on a country road, a middle-aged woman holding baby Gideon on her lap. Scotty knows who she is -- Aimee-Leigh Gemstone, the Gospel singer that his mom liked so much. Eli Gemstone's wife, Jesse's mother, Gideon's grandmother!

Scotty retreats into himself, fearful that she has come to judge him. But all he feels from Aimee-Leigh is love.

"Are you ready to go, darlin'?" she asks, smiling. "We've got work to do."

Calling him "darlin'," as if she is really his grandmother! Wait -- of course she is. Scotty understands everything now. There are no lies in the endless light. "But how? Gideon must hate me. There's no coming back from what I've done."

"Of course there is. He's already forgiven you. But now you need to forgive him."

Link to the full story on Archive of Our Own

[callsign-owl]

Easter Break - Part 5

This is a continuation of Easter Break - Part 4

London, United Kingdom - April 2019

Easter Sunday arrived with the same gray sky that had hung over London for days. Percival stood by the window with his phone pressed to his ear. His expression was tense  as he listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. Finally, the deep, steady voice of Captain Price answered, his tone neutral and composed, as always. “Captain Price.”

“Captain Price,” Percival began, forcing his voice to remain calm and polite. “It’s Percival *redacted*. I trust you have a moment to speak?"  There was a pause on the other end, brief but telling. “Go ahead,” Price replied, though there was no warmth in his tone. No pleasantries, no unnecessary small talk. Price knew this call wasn’t just a social check-in.

Percival, however, wasn’t deterred. “I wanted to talk to you about my brother *redacted*,” he began, his voice carefully measured. “I’d like to hear from you directly how he’s been progressing in Task Force 141. I know the official reports only tell part of the story.”

Price’s voice remained steady, unreadable. “He’s making progress,” was all he said.

Percival frowned. That wasn’t enough. He needed more than vague reassurances. “I’m sure he is, but you and I both know progress can mean different things. I’m asking you for specifics. How has he been handling himself under pressure? Is he adapting well? Or have there been issues?”

Another pause. This time, it stretched longer. Percival could almost hear Price weighing his response, deciding how much to reveal—and how much to keep to himself.

 “*redacted* has been handling the training well enough. We all have our ups and downs, and he’s no different. He’s learning,  he's pushing himself and he's putting in the work, and far as his progress goes, he’s where he needs to be.”  Price finally said, his tone firm.

The answer was still vague, deliberately so, and it grated on Percival. He wasn’t used to being stonewalled like this. “Captain,” Percival said, a sharp edge creeping into his voice, “I understand you’re loyal to your team, but I’m his brother. I have a right to know how he’s really doing—whether he’s coping or not. I can’t help him if I don’t have the full picture.”

Price’s response was immediate and unyielding. “With all due respect, that’s not how this works.”

The bluntness of the statement hit Percival like a slap, and he clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting. “*redacted* is my responsibility, and I need to know if he’s struggling.”

Price’s tone didn’t soften. “*redacted* is part of Task Force 141 now. That means he’s part of my responsibility, not yours. If there’s an issue, we’ll handle it. You won’t need to get involved.”

Percival could feel his control slipping, the surge of irritation rising in his chest. He had expected more cooperation from Price, but Price wasn’t giving him anything, and it was infuriating. The implication was clear: Percival’s influence ended the moment Owl joined Task Force 141. Owl was part of the team, and Price wasn’t going to betray that bond of loyalty.

Percival’s grip tightened on the phone. He wasn’t used to being shut down like this. Percival’s frustration spiked, but before he could respond, Price added, “Now, if that’s all, I’ve got other things to attend to.” 

There was no room for argument in Price’s tone, no opening for Percival to push further. Percival bit back a sharp retort, forcing himself to remain composed, even as his anger simmered just below the surface.

“Of course, Captain,” Percival said tightly. “I appreciate your time.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Owl lay sprawled across his bed, phone in hand, aimlessly scrolling through various social media. The endless stream of pictures and videos blurred together, none of it holding his attention for more than a second. It had been days of the same routine: aimless walks around Hampstead, getting overpriced coffees at various coffee shops, returning to the mansion to binge-watch movies and TV shows. The void of boredom stretched on endlessly, with nothing of interest to break it.

Owl hadn’t seen much of Percy. Since their confrontation in the study, they had mostly avoided each other, careful not to cross paths unless absolutely necessary. Percival had been just as busy with work as usual. Either he was out of the house entirely or he was locked in his study that served as his office when he was at home. Both suited Owl just fine. He wasn’t in the mood for any more tense conversations or lectures. Being around Percy always made him feel like a caged animal, being watched and analyzed for signs of weakness.

As Owl scrolled past yet another funny cat video, when his phone buzzed with a new text message. He opened the message app and sighed when he saw it was from Percy.

Lunch at 1. Wear something decent.

Owl groaned. Of course, Percy had to make a big deal out of Easter. For all their efforts to ignore each other over the past few days, Percy apparently couldn’t resist playing the role of responsible older brother on holidays. He could imagine the scene now—Percy probably had some fancy reservation at a place where the waiters wore suits, and the menu had no prices on it. And Owl would be expected to sit through it all, pretending to care, while they danced around any real conversation like they always did.

Grumbling under his breath, Owl dragged himself out of bed and glanced at the time. He had enough time to shower and change, but he wasn’t going to go overboard with the whole “decent” request. A pair of black jeans and a simple black t-shirt would have to be enough. Once showered and dressed, Owl lingered in his room. He wasn’t looking forward to this lunch. In fact, he had half a mind to just skip it entirely, but he knew Percy wouldn’t let that fly.

At exactly 1 o'clock Owl made his way downstairs, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Percy was waiting for him near the front door, dressed impeccably, as always. A dark suit, neatly pressed, and polished shoes that probably cost more than Owl’s entire wardrobe. He watched Owl approach, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of tension around his eyes.

“You’re late,” Percy said, his tone matter-of-fact. Owl just shrugged and Percy didn't bother to argue any further. Nevertheless the disapproving silence that followed said enough. Without another word, they left the house and climbed into the waiting car.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The restaurant was exactly what Owl had expected—high-end, decadent, and oozing with a kind of wealth and pretension that made his skin crawl. Waiters glided through the dining area in black suits, catering to patrons who looked like they’d stepped straight out of a luxury lifestyle magazine. It was the kind of place Percy thrived in, a world of polished facades and silent judgments, and Owl absolutely hated it.

As they were led to their table, Owl couldn’t help but feel a wave of discomfort wash over him. He felt completely out of place. Percy, on the other hand, looked perfectly at home. He moved through the restaurant like he belonged there, every inch of him screaming control and wealth.

The second he sat down, Owl grabbed the menu, skimming it with the same detached disinterest he felt for the whole situation. Just as he had expected, there were no prices next to the items, and the descriptions were unnecessarily long, every dish dripping with luxury. Truffles, foie gras, and other pretentious ingredients dominated the menu, and Owl had to stifle a groan as he scanned through it.

Percival read through the menu as if it was the most interesting piece of literature ever written, before putting it down with a look of content confidence. Owl rolled his eyes, his irritation growing as Percy ordered a ridiculous multi-course feast that would have been enough to feed several people. It was so typical of Percy—an indulgent und unnecessary display of wealth and status, disguised as sophistication.

The waiter turned to Owl, who didn’t even bother trying to match his brother’s excessive order. “I��ll just have the steak and chips,” he said flatly, earning a subtle raise of the waiter’s eyebrow. It was clear the simple order was not the usual fare in a place like this, but Owl didn’t care.

As the waiter walked away, Owl leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and giving Percy a sidelong glance. “You know you could’ve just taken me to a regular pub, right?” he muttered, the sarcasm thick in his voice. “I would’ve been just as miserable there, but at least the food wouldn’t have come with a side of snobbery.”

Percy ignored the jab, his expression remaining neutral. “It’s Easter,” he said, his voice even. “I thought a nice and festive meal would be appropriate.”

“Appropriate for whom?” Owl shot back. “For you? Because this definitely doesn’t feel like it is intended for me.”

Percy’s eyes flicked up to meet his brother’s, the tension between them already beginning to simmer. “It’s a holiday, *redacted*. I thought we could at least attempt to have a civil meal.”

Owl laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “Civil? Right. Because nothing screams family bonding like a unnecessary decadent meal.”

Percy’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Do you have to make everything difficult?” he asked, his tone sharp but still controlled.

Owl rolled his eyes, his arms still crossed, as he looked out of the window to avoid having to look at his brother. It was always like this with Percy. Even when he tried to do something “nice,” it felt forced, hollow, like an obligation rather than genuine care. Owl could feel his irritation growing with every passing second. He hated this—the pretension, the forced civility, the way Percy always seemed to expect him to play along with whatever perfect little scene he had orchestrated.

Finally, Percy broke the silence, his voice quieter, more measured. “You didn’t have to come.”

Owl turned back to face Percy, his eyes flashing with frustration. “Yeah sure as if you would have accepted a no from me.”

Percy leaned back in his chair, his expression tight, the familiar tension between them growing thicker by the second. “I was trying to be civil,” Percy said coolly, folding his hands in front of him. “But apparently, that’s too much to ask.”

“Civil?” Owl scoffed. “This isn’t civil, Percy. You're just pretending we’re a normal family while you shove foie gras down your throat and act like everything’s fine.”

Percy’s eyes flicked toward the other diners nearby, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Do you have to make a scene every time?”

“Oh, am I embarrassing you?” Owl leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice in a mock whisper. “Don’t worry, big brother, I’m sure all these rich snobs don’t even notice me.”

Percy’s nostrils flared slightly, but he kept his composure, his voice calm but clipped. “I brought you here because I thought you might appreciate a nice meal. But clearly, I overestimated your ability to enjoy anything that doesn’t involve self-sabotage.”

Owl snorted, leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Right. Because nothing says ‘nice meal’ like sitting in a room full of people who look like they’re auditioning for a TV show. Face it, Percy, you didn’t do this for me. You did this so you could feel like you’re doing your ‘duty’ as the responsible older brother. Because God forbid, we break the Easter tradition of a family meal with a side of snobbery and awkward silence. ”

Percy’s eyes flashed with irritation, but before he could respond, the waiter arrived with their food, interrupting the brewing argument. Plates were set down in front of them with all the pomp and ceremony that only came with a restaurant this pretentious. "Enjoy your meal, gentlemen," the waiter said, offering a tight smile before he disappeared once again, leaving the brothers alone at the table.

Percy wasted no time and immediately started digging into his meal. Owl, on the other hand, glanced down at his steak and chips with disinterest. Having lost his appetite, he stabbed a fry with his fork and pushed it around on his plate, but didn’t bother eating it. The tension between the two brothers hung thick in the air, but neither of them said anything.

Owl watched as Percy shoveled food into his mouth with an intensity that bordered on desperate. Forkful after forkful of rich, indulgent dishes disappeared between Percy’s lips. It was nothing new for Owl to witness—he’d seen Percy eat like this before, in private, behind closed doors. But seeing his brother do it so publicly, in a restaurant full of well-dressed strangers, that was something new.

Owl bit back the remarks that immediately came to mind. It would have been easy to tear into Percy, to make some snide comments. But he didn't. Instead he just watched in silence. Owl knew better than to judge his brother. They were both a mess in their own ways, both with their own vices and unhealthy coping mechanisms.  Percy might have the outward appearance of control and success, but beneath the surface, he was just as fucked up as Owl was. The only difference was that Percy tried to hide it behind control and luxury, while Owl let his chaos spill out for everyone to see.

Percy’s face was slick with sweat, his cheeks flushed red from the sheer effort of eating. His distended stomach strained uncomfortably against the fabric of his suit, the buttons holding on for dear life. His breath came in short, labored gasps. Every now and then, Percy would pause, not out of any sense of decorum, but because he needed a moment to catch his breath.

After a while, Owl stopped watching Percy entirely, instead staring blankly out the window as the minutes dragged on. The restaurant’s low hum of conversation and the clink of silverware on plates filled the space around them, but it all felt distant and detached, like the scene of a play he wasn’t a part of. None of the other patrons seemed to notice the display happening. They were too absorbed in their own conversations and their own indulgences.

Finally, every dish on the table was cleared, including Owl's steak and chips. But it hadn’t been Owl who had eaten it. Percy had, once it became clear that Owl wasn’t going to touch his food. Percy leaned back in his chair, letting out a faint sigh and wiped his mouth with a napkin, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity despite the fact that he looked like he was asbout to burst.

"You finished?" Owl asked flatly, the sarcasm barely concealed in his voice.

Percy didn’t respond right away. He dabbed at his mouth once more, before he carefully set the napkin down. "I don’t see the point in wasting food," Percy replied, his voice clipped, though he was clearly struggling to maintain his usual composed tone.

Owl let out a short, humorless laugh. "Right. Because God forbid we waste the steak and chips in this fine establishment."

Percy remained silent, clearly unwilling to rise to the bait. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and adjusted his position with his hands resting on his distended stomach as has he perused the dessert menu. Then Owl watched in disbelief how Percy signaled the waiter, and proceeded to rattle down an extensive dessert order. "I’ll have the crème brûlée, the chocolate soufflé, the lemon tart, and the assorted cheese plate, too."

"You’re not serious?" Owl muttered not caring that the waiter could hear him.

Percival glanced at his younger brother with the same calm, neutral expression he always wore, as if ordering half the dessert menu was a perfectly normal thing to do. "It’s Easter," Percy said smoothly. "I don’t see why we shouldn’t indulge a little."

While the two brothers were bickering, the waiter was patiently waiting for Owl to make his order. "Just get me a vodka Red Bull," Owl eventually said flatly.

The waiter’s eyebrow shot up, but it was nothing compared to the look of sheer disapproval on Percy’s face. "A vodka Red Bull?" Percy repeated, his tone sharp. "At a restaurant like this?"

Owl shrugged, unfazed. "What?!"

Percy stared at him for a long moment, clearly biting back whatever he was about to say. The waiter, sensing the tension, nodded briskly and disappeared to place their orders. As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, Percy leaned forward, his tone strained but controlled. "I bring you to one of the finest restaurants in London, and first you refuse to eat and then you order a vodka Red Bull?"

Owl crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Percy. What did you expect?."

Percy’s lips thinned into a line, but he didn’t argue further. It was always like this with Owl—every attempt to reach some semblance of civility, was met with defiance. Still, Percy wasn’t one to give up easily. He smoothed down his napkin and cleared his throat, clearly gearing up for another attempt at conversation.

"How’s your training going?" Percy asked, trying to sound casual, but Owl could hear the underlying curiosity and the need to pry.

Owl gave a noncommittal shrug, his eyes darting around the restaurant as if searching for something more interesting than this forced conversation. "It’s fine."

Percy pressed on, undeterred. "I assume it’s been… challenging?"

Owl glanced over at him, his expression unreadable. "It’s the military, Percy. It’s not supposed to be a picnic."

Percy nodded slowly, trying to find another angle. He knew he wasn’t going to get much out of Owl with general questions, so he shifted tactics. "Have you been making progress with the team? Building connections?"

Owl snorted softly, shaking his head as he looked down at the table. "You sound like a HR manual."

"That’s not what I meant," Percy said, his tone tightening. "I’m just asking if you’ve found your place there. If it’s… helping."

"Helping with what?" Owl asked sharply, his eyes flicking up to meet Percy’s, his posture suddenly more defensive.

Percy hesitated, clearly aware he was treading on thin ice. "With everything," he said carefully. "You joined to find structure, stability—"

Owl cut him off, his voice edged with irritation. "I joined to avoid prison. That’s it. Don’t make it sound like some noble quest for personal growth."

Percy’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "I know why you joined, *redacted*. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make something of it. That you can’t rebuild."

Owl rolled his eyes, clearly done with this line of conversation. "Rebuild what, Percy? There’s nothing to rebuild. It's just a way to keep my head above water. Don’t try to turn it into something it’s not."

Percy’s frustration was evident now, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You always do this," he muttered, his voice low. "It’s like talking to a brick wall."

Before Owl could respond, the waiter appeared, cutting through the tension with a practiced, polite smile. He carefully set down Percy’s extravagant array of desserts. Then, with considerably less fanfare, and  the same disapproving look as before, he placed Owl’s vodka Red Bull on the table.

Owl immediately took a long sip and then settled back in his chair, fully resigning himself to yet another round of watching Percy eat in awkward silence. Owl stared blankly at the glass in his hand, as Percy worked his way through the mountain of desserts. Owl quickly downed the rest of his drink and then flagged down the waiter for another.

By the time Percy was halfway through his pile of desserts, Owl had ordered his third vodka Red Bull. He knew he was drinking too fast, but at least it gave him something to do. If he had to sit here, he might as well keep himself occupied. All Owl wanted to do at this point was leave.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Percy spooned the last bit of crème brûlée into his mouth and he glanced up at Owl. His eyes immediately focused on the almost empty glass of vodka Red Bull in Owl's bandaged hand. Percivals brow furrowed with disapproval, and without missing a beat, he made a comment that Owl had seen coming a mile away.

 "Don’t you think that is a bit excessive for lunch? "Percy said, his tone sharp with thinly veiled judgment. While Owl hadn't said a single word about Percy's indulgence, Percy apparently didn’t feel like extending the same courtesy to his brother.

Owl’s patience snapped. He set the glass down hard on the table. He couldn’t take it anymore—Percy’s constant need to comment, to judge, to act like he had some moral high ground. "Excessive?" Owl spat, his voice low but seething. "You just ordered half the dessert menu and I didn’t say a fucking word about it."

Percy’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Owl. "That’s not the same thing."

"It isn't?!" Owl shot back, his voice rising slightly. "I’ve been sitting here in silence, watching you gorge yourself on enough food to feed a small country but the second I order a couple of drinks, you’ve got something to say about it?"

"You’re drinking is an unhealthy coping mechanism," Percy said, his tone steady but clearly annoyed. "I’m just enjoying a meal. There’s a difference."

Owl let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course, there is. There’s always a difference when it comes to you, isn’t there? You're such a fucking hypocrite!"

Percy started to respond, but Owl didn’t let him get the chance. The anger and frustration that had been simmering under the surface finally boiled over. "You know what? Fuck this," Owl muttered, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. He stood up abruptly, ignoring the startled looks from the guests sitting at the surrounding tables. Percy’s face tightened, his mouth opening as if to protest, but Owl wasn’t about to stick around for whatever lecture was coming next. Owl turned and walked out of the restaurant.

Continue reading here

[divinum-pacis]

April 21, 2023: Sri Lankan Catholic nuns participate in a protest march to mark the fourth anniversary of the 2019 Easter Sunday bomb attacks on Catholic Churches, in Colombo, Sri Lanka. Thousands of Sri Lankans held a protest in the capital on Friday, demanding justice for the victims of the Easter Sunday bomb attacks that killed nearly 270 people. (AP Photo/Eranga Jayawardena)

[catofadifferentcolor]

Random Old Guard Thoughts (1/?): Movie Timeline

As I've often stated, loudly and repeatedly, I tend to hyperfixate on details very few other people would consider important. Case in point: What is the timeline of The Old Guard (2020)?

I don't mean the pre-canon timeline - what these characters were doing at any given point in the last thousand years, though that too is something I've given far too much thought to - but the actual timeline of the events of the movie.

Now, we can pretty safely say the events take place in early 2019, as:

In the scene outside the mine in Val d'Argent, Nile's phone gives the date as Sunday, April 21.

The Frank Ocean song "Godspeed" Nile listens to at Camp Leatherneck was released in 2016.

The years in which April 21 falls on Sunday after this song was released are: 2019, 2024, 2030, and 2047.

Presuming that the movie is set during the War in Afghanistan, which ended August 20, 2021, this leaves 2019 as the only possible year the movie could take place. (Or, since the war went on for nearly two decades and the Doha Accords were not signed until February 29, 2020, it could have been intended to be set in a possible near-future at filming, but that seems against the general historicity of the movie/comics.) This is also the year the movie was shot during, so it seems most likely.

Sunday, April 21, 2019 is coincidentally Easter, which seems like a good date to set events involving resurrection and immortality, as well as to sneak your unwilling human test subjects into your usually bustling pharmaceutical company headquarters. (Though why you'd carry out your morally dubious research in your HQ is another matter.)

Seems simple enough. However, the incident in South Sudan takes place during a full moon - there's a nice lingering shot of it early in the movie, so it's not just some stage light shining through a window - and the last full moon before Easter 2019 is Friday, April 19. (Good Friday, coincidentally.)

We do have a bit of wiggle room. The moon rising at 6:19 pm in Juba on the night of Thursday, April 18 probably looked close enough to full to count. The one rising at 5:25 pm on Wednesday, April 17 might've too. But the question remains: even if we push the rescue operation back to the night of April 17-18, is it even possible for someone moving covertly to get from a contested war zone in Central Africa to another in Central Asia in time to make it to Northern France the next night?

Because the way I see it:

Sunday, April 21 is the hard date. Andy, Nile, and Booker leave Val d'Argent around sunrise on this day (6:31 am) and drive to Copely's house in Surrey. Google tells me this is a 774 km drive, which should take 8:45 hours. There must have been some sort of border check regardless of whatever passports were used as the UK never was part of the Schengen Area - and possibly a stop for weapons after. (Even if we shave off a few hours speeding on empty holiday roads, London sunset was 8:06 pm that day and there's nothing to imply Nile and Copley waited overnight to stage their rescue. Andy and Booker can't have been in the labs longer than four hours.)

Andy, Booker, and Nile leave Goussainville at night. If they took the most direct route to Val d'Argent (and I don't see why they would), that is a 465 km drive, which should take 5 hours. They arrive at the cave in daylight - between 7 am and 9 pm that time of year - and Andy leaves again for the town at dark. This tells me their arrival in Val d'Argent is sometime Saturday, April 20.

It is night when the guard are attacked in Goussainville. This is likely the morning of Saturday, April 20, but can be any time between sunset (8:50 pm) the day before and sunrise (6:54 am) that morning.

Andy and Nile are shown arriving at Goussainville in daylight. This could, theoretically, be any number of days before the attack, but given the clothes it's probably Friday, April 19. Also, unless we dream each other isn't an every night thing, Nile would probably have gotten Quỳnh's story earlier if it wasn't.

It is daylight on a train in Central Africa when Andy, Booker, Joe, and Nicky first dream of Nile. This could, theoretically, be any number of days after the mission in South Sudan, but I get the feeling it's meant to be the morning after - which, accounting for the moon, would be Thursday, April 18.

Is it physically possible to travel from South Sudan to Afghanistan to France in, at maximum, 39 hours? Probably. If you managed direct flights it would be something like 15 hours total plus a couple hours driving. But can it actually be done? Can you jump off a train in the middle of nowhere, find a single woman on a military base in another country with nothing but a picture and half a name, and get yourself and your companion to another continent in what's realistically more like 30 hours? All while keeping out of sight of an ex-CIA operative and, presumably, the US military?

I don't know. It sounds like the start of a Top Gear special - and initially I was going to argue that it couldn't be done. I was going to argue that the South Sudan mission had to occur during the March 20 full moon for the timing to work... but maybe not. Maybe it can be done. I'd love to know.

Which, I suppose, is a long way to travel to determine the date of Nile's first death: some time between sunrise in Central Africa and sunset in Central Asia on Thursday, April 18, 2019.

[angesaurus]

Usually for Easter we alternate families. A long time ago we used to squeeze in both (one family would get sunday, the other would get Saturday) and back in like 2018/2019 we kind of ditched it. It’s too much you know? Especially with kids. Our parents are both in NJ - about an hour from each other. And about 90 minutes to 2 hours from our house.

What’s funny is that…. The years my mom got Easter sunday, my MIL would insist we still come for Easter Saturday. Sometimes we would come for that Thursday or Good Friday and stay over a couple nights. And then Sunday go to my moms and then go home. The years my MIL got Easter Sunday, my mom would say “have fun” and never asked or expected us to come to her house that weekend. So usually we didn’t. It’s nice my mom understands I have “two” families and understands the idea of alternating. And now with 2 kids, she gets it even more.

2019, we did my in laws. We did NOT see my parents.

2020, we stayed home.

2021, we went to my parents but I’m also pretty sure we did a day at my in laws. At this point in motherhood, I’m over seeing both families but it was post lockdown where everyone was getting over not being able to see each other like normal you know? So I’m a good in law and agree to seeing both families. Maybe we did the weekend before or after, maybe it wasn’t exactly Easter weekend but I know for a FACT we went there at some point because my SIL was there.

2022, we went to my in laws for both Saturday and Sunday (we slept over). We did NOT see my parents.

This year, it was my moms turn! We had no intention of seeing my in laws. We had seen them last year!!!!! We told them this back in like early March. We were also invited to my uncles house on Saturday and we declined because I refuse to drive to Nj two days in a row for freaking Easter.

So we went to my moms today. We had a great day! We went to the boardwalk! Had a super casual dinner at her house. Hung out, etc. it was great. We leave around 6 and on our way home my freaking in laws have the gd nerve to text my husband and say “wish you guys could drive through *our town* on your way home”

Dan says, we saw you guys last year. It’s Angela’s parents year.

They say, no you saw them last year too.

The fuck we did not??????? Dan tells them…. No??? We actually slept at your house and was there for 2 days.

They don’t believe us??????

First of all - you want us to drive an hour to your house from my moms house at 6pm, and then drive 2 hours home. Ummmmmmm. Hell no. Second of all - we didn’t see my parents last year and guess what, they are okay with that??????? They don’t expect us to drive all over the gd garden state to celebrate a holiday.

I’m so annoyed. I’m so sick of my MIL acting like she never sees my kids. I’m sick of her being jealous that my kids freaking adore my parents and spend more time with them. Do you want to know why my kids spend more time with them???? Because my parents ASK. They make the effort. They take them for sleepovers. My in laws won’t take the kids for sleepovers. They never babysit or offer. I’ve never felt like I could ask them either. They’ve both made comments that they already raised 2 kids. Fine. That’s fine! I don’t expect anything at all. They’ve spent time with Cecilia without one of us there 2 times (the 2nd time, was at Gavin’s soccer game and Dan was coaching so technically he was there!!!!).

It was just like…. I don’t know, proof they don’t value my time. I have to log on to work tomorrow at 6am. Why the hell do you think I would drive to your house after dinner on a Sunday?!?! If they had opened their mouths earlier this week I could have made sure the kids saw them OR ya know maybe they could have asked their freaking son who was on SPRING BREAK all week to bring them over. But nope! They wait until after we saw my parents and make a big deal out of it, so that it’s a “well you saw HER parents” thing and not a “we should have coordinated with our son who was on gd vacation this week” thing.

Can’t wait when I tell them Christmas is on a Monday this year and we will NOT be seeing them. They’ll get us Saturday 12/23 or not at all. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

[world-of-wales]

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘 ♡

☆ﾟ｡.･ ─────

𝐀𝐬𝐡 | she/her | xxi | Taurus

WillCat stan since always | blog est. 2021

Bibliophile | Astrophile | Chelsea + Mercedes

───── ･. ｡ﾟ☆

ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ♡

♪ ┆ Mainly a Wales Family account with special guest appearances from the rest of the family and foreign royalty.

♪ ┆ You'll find photo and gif edits of William, Catherine and their three little cupcakes on here along with series about Royal Engagements, Cat and Lottie's fashion, etc.

♪ ┆ My ask box and messages are always open for chat or if you want to send in anything.

♪ ┆Please be respectful to everyone and their opinions. You might not agree with everything that's what's said on here, but let's keep the conversation constructive and please be kind.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤 .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･

★ ┆ 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕞

⋆ photo edits (bf. apr11) - will windsor

⋆ photo edits (bf. sep22) - will cambridge

⋆ photo edits (af. sep22) - william wales

⋆ gif edits (bf. sep22) - will cambridge.

⋆ gif edits (af. sep22) - william wales.

⋆ royal engagements (bf. sep22) - the duke diaries

⋆ royal engagements (af. sep22) - prince of wales diary

★ ┆ ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖

⋆ photo edits (bf. apr11) - cat middleton

⋆ photo edits (bf. sep22) - cat cambridge

⋆ photo edits (af. sep22) - catherine wales

⋆ gif edits (bf. sep22) - cat cambridge.

⋆ gif edits (af. sep22) - catherine wales.

⋆ royal engagements (bf. sep22) - the duchess diaries

⋆ royal engagements (af. sep22) - princess of wales diary

★ ┆ 𝔾𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖

⋆ photo edits (bf. sep22) - george cambridge

⋆ photo edits (af. sep22) - george wales

⋆ gif edits (bf. sep22) - george cambridge.

⋆ gif edits (af. sep22) - george wales.

★ ┆ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖

⋆ photo edits (bf. sep22) - lottie cambridge

⋆ photo edits (af. sep22) - lottie wales

⋆ gif edits (bf. sep22) - lottie cambridge.

⋆ gif edits (af. sep22) - lottie wales.

★ ┆ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕚𝕤

⋆ photo edits (bf. sep22) - lou lou cambridge

⋆ photo edits (af. sep22) - lou lou wales

⋆ gif edits (bf. sep22) - lou lou cambridge.

⋆ gif edits (af. sep22) - lou lou wales.

★ ┆ 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝ℂ𝕒𝕥 + ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕔𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤

⋆ royal engagements (bf. sep22) - the cambridge diaries

⋆ royal engagements (af. sep22) - the wales diaries

★ ┆ 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨

⋆ review of 2022 - catherine | william | the wales family's 22

⋆ review of 2023 - catherine | william

⋆ review of 2024 - catherine | william *under construction*

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕤 .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･

❅ ┆ ℝ𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝 𝕃𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕓𝕠𝕠𝕜

❆ catherine's style files - 2011 | 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015

2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023 | 2024

❆ lottie's style files - 2022 | 2023 | 2024

❅ ┆ ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕖

❆ catherine's wardrobe - catherine's royal closet

❆ catherine's jewellery - catherine's jewel vault

❆ catherine's hats - hats of a princess

❅ ┆ 𝔻𝕖𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤

❆ fashion details of 2023 - january to march april to july

❅ ┆ 𝔽𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜

❆ fashion recap - bafta awards | commonwealth service

st patricks day parade | easter service | anzac service

trooping the colour | royal ascot | garden parties

wimbledon.a | wimbledon.b | festival of remembrance

remembrance sunday | together at christmas concert

christmas at sandringham

❅ ┆ ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖'𝕤 ���𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕤

❆ dresses - f.nav : 1

❆ coats & jackets - f.nav : 2

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕤 𝕆𝕗 ℍ𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･

♚ ┆ ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔼𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℕ𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕀𝕟𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟

♔ parts - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

♚ ┆ 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕞 𝕀 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

♔ parts - 1 | 2 | 3

[duchessofostergotlands]

Maybe Catherine has to cancel shortly beforehand. I hope she doesn't but I also don't want this joke to end.

I know anon. I know. And even if she did cancel it wouldn’t feel right because the intention was there. We have to accept it and hold one another in our hour of need.

Although it is giving me biblical imagery? January 2019 was Textile Good Friday (although in our case it was fun and no one was crucified), this is just our Textile Easter Sunday, and I’m one of the prostitutes who used to hang out with Jesus.

[heavenboy09]

Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 To You

The Iconic & Highly Regarded & Devilishly Handsome Welsh 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿Actor & Singer  Of The 21st Century In Cinema 🎥

Luke George Evans was born on Easter Sunday, 15 April 1979, in Pontypool, and brought up in Aberbargoed, the only child of Yvonne and David Evans. He was raised as a Jehovah's Witness, though he left the religion when he was 16 and left school at the same time.

At age 17, he moved to Cardiff, where he studied with singing coach Louise Ryan. In 1997, he won a scholarship to London Studio Centre, then in Kings Cross, London. He graduated in 2000.

He is a Welsh 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 actor and singer. He began his career on the stage, and performed in London's West End productions of Rent, Miss Saigon, and Piaf before making his film breakthrough in the Clash of the Titans 2010 remake. Following his debut, Evans was cast in the action and thriller films Immortals (2011), The Raven (2012), and the re-imagined The Three Musketeers (2011).

In 2013, Evans starred as the antagonist Owen Shaw in Fast & Furious 6, and also played Bard the Bowman in Peter Jackson's three-part adaptation of J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. 

Evans also portrayed the vampire Dracula in the character's 2014 film origin story Dracula Untold. 

Evans then portrayed Gaston in Disney's live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast (2017), psychologist William Moulton Marston in the biographical drama Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (2017), and the Coachman in Disney's live-action remake of Pinocchio (2022). He released his debut album, At Last, on 22 November 2019. In 2020, he starred in a three-part miniseries The Pembrokeshire Murders. In 2021, he had a main role in the Hulu drama miniseries Nine Perfect Strangers. He then starred in the black ops military series Echo 3 (2022).

He Sings Like Gaston & Does A Epic Masterpiece Of Playing Vlad The Impaler aka DRACULA 🧛‍♂️ & Many More Iconic & Popular Films 🎥 & TV Shows 📺 We all Have Seen & Adored Him In

Please Wish This Iconic & Highly Regarded & Devilishly Handsome Welsh 🏴󐁧󐁢󐁷󐁬󐁳󐁿 Actor & Singer  Of The 21st Century In Cinema 🎥

A Very Happy Birthday 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊

YOU KNOW HIM

YOU GOTTA LOVE HIM

& THE LADIES CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIM. ALRIGHT NOW GIRLS.

HE IS SPOKEN FOR

THE 1 & ONLY

MR. LUKE GEORGE EVANS 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿  Aka Owen Shaw, Dracula 🧛‍♂️, Gaston, & Many More

HAPPY 45TH BIRTHDAY 🎂 🥳 🎉 🎈 🎁 🎊 TO YOU MR. EVANS 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 & HERE'S TO MANY MORE YEARS TO COME #LukeEvans  #FastandFurious6 #TheHobbit #DraculaUntold #BeautyandTheBeast #Scrooge

[theretirementstory]

07/04/2024. Today is my 14th day in hospital and it doesn’t look as if I will be going home just yet! I could wrong of course 😉.

As I am unable to get out and about to photograph the flooding that has been happening here or to take advantage of yesterdays warm sunny day when the mercury hit 27c! I decided to use “throwback photos” from places I have visited. The first photo is of “Temple Saint-Étienne” in Mulhouse, a city I visited in March 2022.

So it was Easter Day last Sunday and to celebrate we were given some appalling food which I returned untouched. The highlight of the lunchtime “plat” was the birds nest cake with jelly beans, it was delicious. In the evening there was a pastry square with chicken and mushroom and as much as I wasn’t going to eat it, it was rather tasty. It certainly beat a lot of the food we get here!

On Monday,we had coffee in the afternoon 😳 with a little cake and a couple of mini Easter eggs. Anie messaged and visited me bringing another couple of Easter eggs.

Everyday it seems that something else is low, red cells, white cells, platelets, potassium or blood pressure! I must admit by Wednesday I felt quite low myself. Asking why my body wasn’t working as it should? It turns out this is quite “normal” for the type of chemo I am having now (wish they had told me earlier). Anyway, a good talking to and I settled myself down, my positivity returned and I was “up there” again.

I now have provisional dates for my stay in the hospital in Paris. However, I really need to go home for a couple of days to get my case packed ready to take.

I have run out of reading materiel so I need more books. I have had to resort to reading the blog from inception December 2016. After two full days I am only at Xmas 2019. It’s interesting to look back on though, I must admit.

This week I have chosen two songs by someone I think has been very underrated. The songs go back to 1967 and 1968 respectively. Apparently the songwriter, Cat Stevens, sold this first song to P.P. Arnold for £30 and it became a big hit for Arnold as well as for other artists including Rod Stewart and Sheryl Crow, the song is “The First Cut Is The Deepest”.

The second song, written in 1967 and recorded by P.P. Arnold in 1968 is “Angel Of The Morning”. I must say I have loved both of these songs since first hearing them in the 60’s and was only too happy to sing them at any opportunity. However, I must admit it was much the same for lots of songs from those decades.

Pauline messaged last weekend, from Barcelona, where she is currently working. At some point over the Easter weekend she had her phone snatched out of her hand and the thief made off on an electric scooter. I imagine that was quite a shock! She, fortunately, had an old phone with her and just needed to buy a sim.

I have been messaging lots of people, French friends, English friends and catching up on “Hatched, Matched and Dispatched, unfortunately it is mainly now the “dispatched” that are known to me.

“The Photographer” had his daughter for the day on Tuesday. He sent me a photo of them waiting for the stately home they were going to visit, to open. They had such fun until my granddaughter fell in mud, all over her new leggings! She was worried Mummy would be unhappy, so they took a photo to let Mummy know what had happened. This weekend he has both of his children, it was wonderful to get photos of their happy smiling faces and then of my grandson catching “forty winks”. It was ok as Grand-mere has slept rather a lot today. Hope I sleep tonight! Last Monday “The Photographer” made the trip to Kings Lynn to photograph the home side v Scarborough AFC. At half-time the score was 3-0 and he felt sure Scarborough were going to be beaten, However, they pulled off an amazing feat to win 3-4. No-one saw that coming at half-time, absolutely brilliant!

“The Reconnect Navigator” is thrilled this week as she has now been given her own cases. She worked overtime one evening and so on Friday she had a 3pm finish which was great! Makes the weekend longer.

“The Trainee Solicitor” is feeling better about his job now. A new “young man” has joined the company and is working full-time. He hasn’t worked before so comes with no preconceived ideas (which is good), he is keen to work (always a plus point) and I think given time will be an asset to the firm. “The Trainee Solicitor” has applied for his Uni course and is hoping to get that done during May, June and July. It’s all positive steps. One thing that he messaged to me, really resonated with me and I thought it was a beautiful thing to say, he messaged “It doesn’t matter how long the road is, as long as you are walking it”. I was quite moved.

“The Jetsetter” is recharging her batteries ready for the next adventure. Not only that but you do need to work to have money to enjoy these jaunts. On Easter Sunday, she spent a lovely day with “The Photographer” around York. They took a photo of the house I once lived in. A view that was a favourite of mine when walking around the city walls and some photos of the Minster and the Clock Tower at the old Terry’s Chocolate Factory.

Monique and Ludivine (her daughter) have been messaging me, plus Nadine sent a message and said she will come and say “hello” on Monday or Tuesday. I messaged the ladies at the knitting workshop, it was thin on the ground, two at first then the 92 year old lady came for the cake and a drink. I am missing all of this but the treatment has to take priority.

My best friend from senior school messaged me yesterday to say that her mum had had a stroke. She is in hospital and I hope that is the best place for her. My friend is an only child who lost her father about eight years ago. Her mum is coming up 93 and although you “expect” things to happen due to age etc., it is still a shocking time because that person is your Mum. Thinking of them both ♥️.

I will leave you with this photo of the Cathedrale Saint-Christophe de Belfort . Thé photo was taken in February last year and I likened it to the Treasury at Petra due to the red hue.

Jusqu’à la semaine prochaine