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Fortuner car hire in jaipur
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car rental at the best survice in egypt | limousine nassar
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Car on rent in Delhi | All luxury Car Available ,Cheap Price Rent Cars ,...
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Part III Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)
Supercorp The Corpse Bride AU
Part I, Part II , AO3
EPILOGUE
The lush verdancy of the countryside unfurls itself on the road in front of Kara, and she rolls down the windows of her rental car to let the fresh air in. A deep inhale brings the smells of grass and earth, and Kara smiles to herself.
It's Kara's second day here. She'd gotten in late from her flight and she'd spent most of yesterday in her hotel room, jet-lagged and feeling barely human. The long flight, the bustle of the city, and the general fatigue that accompanies travel had settled on her and she'd allowed herself one day to recover in bed.
She would take longer to recuperate, maybe do some sightseeing in the city -- but honestly, she'd been too excited. So despite still feeling the effects of jet lag like a bad hangover, she'd taken her rented Subaru and set off for the countryside.
Alex would probably laugh at her impatience, but this moment has been two years in the making, Kara can hardly be blamed for being unable to wait.
Two years. Since the last time she'd dreamed about ghosts from the past. And in those two years, it's almost all she's been thinking about.
The book is almost finished.
For two years, Kara has been writing her family's secret legacy. Each page has been a loving chronicle of Lena and her Kara's story.
She's taken some liberties, of course. There are no records of what happened that fateful night, and the full story only lives in Kara's memories now. No one else knows, and apart from the portrait of Lena inside the locket around Kara's neck, there's no proof that this had even happened.
But it did. And now, it just needs an ending.
For the past two years, Kara has been combing through references, records, centuries-old documents to find information on the Luthor family. The last of the line were Lex and Lena, and the name had ended with them. With their deaths, the fortune had dissipated -- and of course, the home had been transformed by her ancestor and now belongs to Kara's family.
But Kara has something in her memories that records don't have.
Something Lex had said to Lena had wormed its way into Kara's mind all these years, and it still hasn't left.
“You’ve never been poisoned before, have you, little sister? Well, I have. Arsenic has a very mild odor. Usually, one would never recognize it, but I know because my bitch of a wife put it in my drink the night she left me, sneaking off like a frightened little rat, just like you were planning to.”
As loathe as she had been to recall Lex Luthor or his caustic words, once she remembered it, a theory had planted itself in Kara's brain, and it had taken hold.
All the records said that Lex had brought infamy to the family for killing his wife and child. But if Lex's wife had managed to escape him, then she may well have survived. And if she had, what happened to her baby? Was she able to take the child with her? If so, where did they go? What happened to them?
It's taken two years of careful research -- fueled by Kara's dedication to telling Lena's story, and her own natural curiosity -- to find out. Tracking down Lex Luthor's wife to her hometown, sifting through various names she might have used and tracking down descendants, finding exciting leads, and coming up against numerous dead ends.
And then three months ago, she'd finally tracked down a doctor living in the small town Kara’s heading to now, who -- if her theories are correct -- could be a long-lost descendant of Lex Luthor.
Kara had contacted her, explaining as much as she could about her book without totally freaking this stranger out. The doctor was very interested in hearing Kara's story -- if a little skeptical at first. She had been polite enough in her earlier emails, but the more Kara told her about the story, the more intrigued she became. And the stronger Kara’s conviction that her theories were correct became as well.
And now four months and a whole barrage of emails between them later, Kara's finally about to meet her.
Kara spies the charming little mailbox on the side of the road, and knows she's at the right place. She steers the rented Subaru into the road beyond it and curiously surveys the place.
As she turns the corner, she finds the picturesque cottage, half-hidden by ivy climbing up its walls and a small grove of blackthorn and aspen trees. Rows of bright little sea-lavender blooms line the walkway. A lovely tabby cat perched on the wall licking its paws completes the delightful picture.
Once she's parked, Kara self-consciously straightens her appearance. The fresh air helped with the jet lag a bit, but she still looks exactly like she got off a ten-hour flight.
She lets out an exasperated sigh as she straightens her button-up and tries to flatten her hair from where it had been blown all over her face during the ride. When she's satisfied, she takes a deep breath and approaches the door to ring the bell.
Kara is fiddling with her glasses as she waits -- a nervous habit -- and when the door opens, she nearly snaps them clean in half. She chokes as she gets her first sight of the doctor. "H-Hello."
"Yes?" The face on the other side of the door wrinkles slightly in confusion and concern at her tone and the expression of utter shock that Kara is wearing right now.
It's the same face in the locket resting over Kara's heart, nearly identical at first glance -- from the sharp angle of her jaw to the high forehead to the clear viridian eyes. It's as if the portrait has come to life right in front of Kara's eyes two hundred years later.
She feels an odd sensation in her chest that she can’t quite understand -- it’s at once a sting and a balm. It's been two years since Kara's seen that face outside of lines and brush strokes on a old memento.
But the longer Kara stares, the more she notices the differences. This woman's face is slightly rounder, her features just a degree softer, and she has a scar near her right eye.
The woman inches slightly away, and Kara realizes she's been staring at her for a full thirty seconds without saying anything. "Sorry. Y-you're Dr. Kieran?"
Kara almost wants to laugh, because of course this is Dr. Kieran. Of course Lex Luthor's last living descendant has his sister's face. Wherever that bastard is, he must surely be rolling in his grave.
"Oh, you're Kara Danvers!"
The woman's voice trills over a small laugh, and Kara can't help but stare more. Hearing her own name in that voice is so strange but delightful in a way that makes Kara shiver. That voice is familiar -- yet somehow lighter and more melodic than that of the woman Kara had met two years ago. The voice of a woman who didn't live under the shadow of the Luthor name, who didn’t spend so many years alone and nearly-forgotten.
"It's lovely to meet you." The woman opens the door wider and extends a hand toward Kara. "Please, call me Lena."
Something pings inside Kara at the name, and she takes the woman's hand with a smile she can’t contain.
"Hello, Lena. I'm so happy to finally meet you. I have so much to tell you."
_________
by SorrowsFlower
I had a note to myself that said “This is the year we finish fics, bitch! Yeah!” and actually 3 fics (out of my 8 SG fics) finished this year ain’t bad.
I’m optimistically making this into a series in the hopes that I can actually write the other scenes I thought up for this AU that didn’t make it in the fic.
#supercorp#supergirl#kara danvers#lena luthor#katie mcgrath#melissa benoist#supercorp au#tumblr is a chapter ahead but i'll be updating the ao3 link soon#Holy shit look at me being all optimistic wtf??
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For Louis
I wrote this story for a competition. Not even an honorable mention, which I’ll be honest, is a stab in the heart because I really poured my soul into this one. Better luck next time, I guess, but here’s the story:
The notebook’s small and faded. The little thing is speckled with dust and the spine is bent to a near-ninety-degree angle except where it’s belted shut with a shoelace. I shouldn’t care; there are real books in the yard sale, books that aren’t falling apart. But I’m curious. Why bother to keep basically scraps?
I throw the thing on top of my pile of books. The eighty cents will come from the money I’ll make selling the others online. I pay for my loot and load it into the trunk of my ’93 Pontiac. I stop, snag the notebook, and tuck it into my coat with my COVID mask.
On my drive home, I get stopped at this intersection that’s seen an accident. Annoyed, but with nowhere to be, I throw the car in park and pull the little black book out. I try the knot in the shoelace with my fingernails before realizing it’s just loose enough to slide off.
Twelve hundred-dollar bills kerflumph into my lap.
I choke. My mind spins as I cough; what in the world? That’s a grand. Where—do I have to return it? How—
No, I don’t have to return it, I reason as I finish spluttering. Nervously, subconsciously, I glance at the cops in the intersection. They aren’t even aware that I exist. Besides, I paid for the notebook. It’s not my fault that that girl didn’t know.
Feeling slightly better, I open the notebook. Three more hundred-dollar bills fall out.
No way.
I flip the notebook around. Peeking out between stained pages are more bills. One per page. I do a quick calculation in my head.
“That’s twenty thousand dollars,” I say aloud, stupefied. That’s insane. Thoughts tumble through my head: riding in an airplane to Europe. Paying my overdue rent. Do I have to pay taxes on this? Amazon, and the things I saved there for “someday.” A full cart at Walmart.
Unsure what else to do, I start to read.
“June 9, 1983
Today I am a dad. I’m a dad! Louis is so small, so perfect, so… what do you say about a baby? It’s all been said before. But this is my baby. My son. He has tiny toes and he eats until it hurts Marie (and then some.) I’m looking forward to playing catch and eating burgers together, and then I stare down at the blanket-bundle and tears fill my eyes because he’s here, he’s real, and he is mine. Ours. Marie’s and mine. My boy. My son.”
“Hey!” I glance up, the words of the book and the words of the cop waving me forward blending in my brain because twenty thousand dollars is still swirling around up there too. I put the Pontiac in drive, my left hand trying to cover the fortune in my lap just in case the officer looks through the window.
I race home. I stuff the bills in my pocket, worrying about neighbors. I try to walk normally, but I feel shifty. Nervous. I run through my crappy apartment, then dump the money onto my bed, triple-checking that I’ve gotten every bit out of my pockets.
Then I flip the book, pinching the spine, and wag the pages.
A rain of cash descends to the quilt Mom made for me. Mom. Mom could use a hundred bucks. I suppress the generosity. This money is mine now, and I definitely need it. Mom will be okay.
I’m tired. I climb into the unmade bed, careful not to knock the bills onto the floor where they could vanish under the bed or the laundry, and I read again.
“July 4, 1983
Louis’ first Independence Day. He doesn’t care, except when the neighbors set off fireworks that woke him. I’m not sure if the baby or Marie was more upset, but Louis screamed more. I decided this journal is for when he graduates high school; I put a hundred dollars in the back. It’s more than we can afford, but this is our son. And I can always take the money back out, I guess. I just wanted to say: I love you, son. I’m already proud of you, and you’re just a little lump on the floor.”
Something in me twitches. I don’t think my father ever said he was proud of me, even when I was—what was it? I glance back at the page. A little lump.
“December 25, 1983
It’s been a little while since I wrote for you, son. Work has been… insane. You’re rolling now. I saved another hundred for you, tucked it in the back with the other one. I’m sorry you’re not getting much this Christmas, but we’re doing our best, and as your mom points out, you don’t care. Not this year.
January 1, 1984
Happy New Year, Louis!
You’re almost seven months old. Hard to believe. You’re nearly ready to sit on your own, and even better—your mom is getting past the baby blues. It’s nice to get my wife back. Don’t feel bad, son, but it’s been hard. I always said I wanted two kids, but now I hope you’re okay with being an only child.
If I could convince you to sleep, that would be something—though it’s nice to cuddle you in the rocking chair at night. Your mom gets you most of the time—boy, you eat a lot!—but after you’re done, I take you and we rock. Sometimes I sing. You won’t remember me singing, because I don’t do it where adults can hear, but for now, you seem to like Dad’s rusty voice. Who knows? Maybe you’re knocking yourself out so you don’t have to listen anymore. I‘d understand.”
My phone rings, and I jump, searching around for it with one hand.
“Hello?”
“Tim? It’s Grandma.” I know. But telling Grandma that won’t keep her from identifying herself on the phone or signing her texts.
“Hi,” I respond, unsure what Grandma wants.
“Are you going to come change my lightbulbs today?”
Crap. I was. Mom has been haranguing me to help Grandma, guilting me with the idea of an old lady living alone, in quarantine, in the dark. Stupid COVID—normally, Grandma’s neighbors change the lightbulbs and stuff, but she’s been insisting to Mom that I need to do it now. As if a pizza delivery guy has less germs than her work-from-home neighbor. Whatever.
“Sorry, Grandma.” I find my keys. “I’ll be over in half an hour.”
“What, dear?”
“I’ll be over in half an hour!” I all but shout into the phone. Then I hang up before she can babble at me. I look at the money; my room is private, but my roommate is nosy. I go to the kitchen and, after hunting in the cupboard, come up with an almost-empty bread bag. I hurry back to my room, eating the last slice, and stuff the money inside.
Bring it or hide it? I consider for a minute. Finally I throw the bag and the notebook into my pocket.
I climb into my car. Grandma’s house is ten minutes away and I have twenty—oops. I pull out the notebook. Suddenly, it hits me—the money was still inside. What happened to Louis? How did the yard sale lady end up with the notebook, and the twenty grand?
I check the inside front cover, find an address. Finch Drive isn’t even that far away--I verify with my GPS.
I don’t even know what I’m hoping. It’s been, what, almost forty years since Louis was born? I open the notebook again, this time to the last page.
“February 18, 1999
I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry I’m going to miss so much. Your high school graduation. Your college graduation. Your wedding, your children. I was excited. I think you were too.
And you won’t really remember who I was. I mean, we have a lot of great memories together. Lots of catch and burgers. But we’ll never have an adult-to-adult relationship, and I’m really, really sad about that.
In a selfish way, I hope you’re sad too. I hope you miss me. Is that terrible? Anyway, I guess the best I can do is leave you with some advice.
Be a good person, Louis. You’re a good kid. Take care of your mom. Heck, take care of my mom. Be smart. Be hardworking. But most of all, be kind.
I love you, kid.
-Dad
P.S. Cancer is the pits.”
I stare at the last few words. “Cancer is the pits.”
I can’t do it. I can’t leave Louis hanging. I turn the car on, head to Finch Drive. Knock.
A lady answers. She’s 60-something.
“Are you Marie? I’m sorry—I totally forgot my mask.”
“Yes, I’m Marie.”
She’s puzzled, I can see it in the top half of her face, the only part showing. Funny, I thought somehow that she‘d be blonde, like Mom.
“I found this,” I say, holding out the journal. “It belongs to Louis. From his dad.”
She gasps as she looks down, and a tear splatters onto the cover. One more spot among dozens.
“I—how—”
“And, um,” I’m not sure how to explain, so I pull the bread bag out. “This was in the pages. It’s for you. Or, for Louis.
“Is he okay? Louis?”
She nods mutely, her shaking hand moving up to take the little black notebook. She doesn’t even look at the money, just stares at the book. I realize I never replaced the shoelace.
“He’s actually here.” She turns. “Louis!” A guy pops out a second later. His hair is dark and messy, like Harry Potter’s.
“You okay, Mom?” He asks. She nods. He squints at me, like he’s trying to decide if I made his mom cry on purpose.
“Your dad wrote that for you,” I say, waving a hand at the notebook Marie clutches. “And he left this.”
“My—” Louis stops talking as he realizes that the bread bag is full of money. A bread bag full of dough, I realize silently, trying not to laugh. “My dad?”
“I found the book at a yard sale. With the money inside. I read some of it—sorry.”
“It must have been in what I donated,” Marie says with a sniffle. “This young man—” She pauses, looking at me.
“Tim,” I supply.
“Tim. You brought Dennis home to us.”
“Dennis?” I blink a few times.
“My dad,” Louis says, and I nod idiotically.
“I didn’t consider his first name—I just thought of him as “Louis’ dad.” I mutter.
“He’d have liked that.” Marie smiles under her mask.
“Well, thanks,” I say, and hold the bread bag out again.
“’Thanks’?” Louis asks. “Thank you,” He stares at the bag. “Can I give you some of that? A finder’s fee? Times are tough.”
I swallow, and it comes down hard.
“Nah,” I say, and I fake a smile.
“But—” Louis’ eyes find the Pontiac.
“I got this,” I say. “I’m alright. Besides, your dad saved that for you.”
Louis nods, takes the bag, and puts his arm around his mom.
“Thank you, Tim. Really. I wish you’d known my dad.”
“He loved you,” I say. “Read the book. You’ll see.”
Louis stares.
“I know he did,” he answers. I smile for real; Louis was lucky. I nod, uncomfortable, then turn and walk down their porch steps. I don’t hear the door close.
Maybe I’m lucky too, I realize as I get back in the car. I’ve got Mom. I’ve got Grand—
Shoot.
I pull out my phone. I’m fifteen minutes late for lightbulb duty. I hit my recent calls and start the car while the phone rings.
“Tim? Are you alright?” Grandma’s voice is strained; she’s worried.
“I’m fine. It’s a long story.”
“You can tell me about it. Maybe…” she pauses. “Maybe over lunch?”
“Sounds great, Grandma,” I say. “I’ll be there in ten.”
Thanks if you read the whole thing. It’s dumb, but I could use some Internet-stranger validation on this one. If you feel like reading it in the original doc (I get like 1/3 of a cent from the site if you do,) it’s here: https://vocal.media/stories/for-louis
All the best. Over & Out.
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A Black Car Service Near Me Could Be Just What You Need to Survive Prom Night
As a parent, your nerves are on edge on prom night, and with the right limo service you’ll be able to relax.
Prom night is just around the corner. As a parent you’re probably worried about things. You know how prom is. You were a teenager once and you know the kinds of things you and maybe some of your friends had done on that night. If you were relatively good, you probably heard stories about friends and other kids in class and the things they did. You are considering renting a transportation service for that evening, and a black car service can be a great idea.
The Benefits of a Black Car Service.
You might be searching for a “car service near me” because you think proximity is the most important factor when it comes to transportation options. It isn’t.
Safety should always be first. When you don’t have to worry about your teenage son or daughter or their date or friend’s driving, you will be able to relax quite a bit more on that night. You know just how you’re going to be on prom night; staying up late, checking the clock, and maybe even checking your phone constantly seeing if your teenager is texting you, calling you, or has finally decided to turn their phone back on.
On top of that, a black car service, one that is generally reserved for taking people to or from the airport or to for other travel reasons, will have great on-time service. You want to make sure your teenager arrives at prom on time and, if they are going to attend after prom parties or other special events, there are no issues in getting them to those destinations.
Many People Assume A Limo Is for A Car Service to the airport.
It can be for many occasions, including weddings, business meetings, anniversary dinners, birthday celebrations, and prom. The best San Diego car service will have the largest fleet, the most experienced and safest drivers, and an impeccable on-time service record.
They should also provide 24/7 customer service and support. While that may not seem important when you’re making a reservation, in the event you want to check in on your teenager and their friends on prom night, if you hire the wrong company, you will have to leave a message and hope somebody gets back to you. Unfortunately, on that night you probably won’t hear from anyone, so the benefits of relying on the best service will be missed.
Fortunately for parents, prom is only going to happen once, so make the right choice and choose the best black car service for your teenage son or daughter. Call us Now at (619) 738-1618
Source: https://carservicesandiego.blogspot.com/2020/09/a-black-car-service-near-me-could-be.html
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Your fake relationship recs were so great! I was wondering if you had any friends to lovers recs? Or is that too close to the same lol? Thanks so much :)
Hey @motherof4dragons,
First of all, check out this wonderful friends to lovers fic rec list by @scout451!
I’m adding my own recs below.
Hugs,
Marjan
Across the Ocean by @prideofportree
Kurt and Blaine never got together and they slowly drifted apart after Kurt transferred back to WMHS. 4 years later Kurt is working at Vogue.com in New York and Blaine is studying Musical Theatre in London. They email.
A Coffeeshop Narrative by @slipping-through-my-fingertips
This was inspired by the 2009 flashback episode of season 6 when Blaine is seen at the Lima Bean handing Mercedes some sugar. What if Kurt and Blaine had met at the Lima Bean instead of Dalton?
All You Need Is Lpve by @reremouse, and its counterpart The Cowardly Blaine Finds His Nerve
Eleven conversations Kurt had and one time the words weren’t really necessary.
A World Turned Upside Down by @scrapmom2112
Kurt and Blaine have been best friends since high school. Kurt has been in love with Blaine since they met. Blaine is oblivious. What happens to their relationship when Blaine drops a bombshell…he’s engaged.
Best Friends Forever by Anonymous
Fill for a prompt in the Glee Prompt Meme. Kurt and Mike are best friends and boyfriends. They decide that the boyfriend part just isn’t working out. At Kurt’s insistence, Mike and Tina start dating. Kurt and Blaine insist they are just friends, but after a bit of prodding from Mike and Tina, Kurt and Blaine start dating, too.
Blind Dates and Other Misunderstandings by @sunshineoptimismandangels
Kurt and Blaine’s parents were all friends in college and ever since Kurt and Blaine came out they’ve been trying to push them to get together because they just really want to be in-laws.
Bracketed by Kisses by reremouse
Kurt accepts that Blaine is an incurable flirt and is determined to be mature about it. And when being mature means saving his best friend from himself, Kurt’s prepared to go once more unto the breach.
Breaking Point by @silverdragon87
Kurt’s tired of waiting around for Blaine to grow a pair and decides to go out and get some action of his own, problem is, he keeps doing it in front of Blaine and Blaine only has so much will power.
Butterfly Wings by @hkvoyage
A fashion blog started at University launched Blaine Anderson’s fortune and fame. As Vogue’s new editor-in-chief, he is struggling to find an original angle for an upcoming issue. Kurt Hummel has recently arrived in New York City after finishing high school, and is having no luck building a musical theater career, so he decides to explore another passion of his: fashion. He applies for an internship at Vogue, and Isabelle sees in him the perfect fresh face to liven up the magazine, and convinces him to try out as a model. Kurt meets Blaine, and in spite of their 10-year age difference, sparks fly. Can they overcome misunderstandings and sabotage to find their happily-ever-after? Klaine model AU.
coffee’s nice but do you mind if I love you by @rospeaks
Blaine likes his coffee with two shots of espresso and a heavy dose of romance.
Come a Little Closer by Bmart57 (Trigger Warning: Rape, Suicide)
Life is made up of moments. Any single moment could change the course of your life forever. Kurt doesn’t know it, but when Finn stops him from going to Dalton to spy on the Warblers, that was a defining moment for his life. Almost three years later, Kurt meets Blaine in class at NYADA. It seems like they’ve finally found each other, but the scars high school left on them may be a chasm to large to overcome.
Crazy Boys in Love by parsnips (trifles)
In which Blaine is an emotionally stunted idiot, and Kurt finally notices.
Crossing the Line by BregoArodShadowfax
Written for a GKM prompt. Blaine and Kurt meet in college when they share a dorm room together. Both of them are hiding their sexuality, but since neither is getting any action elsewhere, they enter into a friends-with-benefits type of relationship. Eventually it goes a little too far to be just ‘bros helping bros’ and the truth has to come out. Klaine.
Emotional Advice - $2 by @lady-divine-writes
Waiting for his Saturday connection with a lot on his head, Blaine gets some advice from a sage young man on the subway platform.
Fearlessly… and Forever by @antarcticbird
Sometimes it’s so easy, you don’t even realize what is happening until it has already happened.
feliz navidad by @villiageidiot
Blaine Anderson meets his best friend when he’s in Kindergarten. He doesn’t know it yet but it’s also when he meets the love of his life.
Fireflies and Fairy Lights by @princehummel
The Andersons, when Blaine is seven, decide to take a family trip to an isolated campground for a change of scenery, too used to living near the bustling city of Columbus. It’s the third week of July and they’re far from the only family there. While Blaine enjoys all the company, he fixates on one person in particular.
Hand Holding by @hazelandglasz
My ipod randomly played Chris Colfer’s version of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” and my brain started running like a hamster in a wheel …
he loves me (not) by @klaineanummel
Kurt was already starting to suspect that writing Blaine an anonymous love note was the stupidest idea he’d ever had. Add in Blaine walking in on him while he was writing it and, well. You get a perfect storm.
In A Car With A Beautiful Boy by @little-escapist
Blaine is always willing to help out someone in need. When Kurt Hummel, a person he’s never met before, asks for a carpooling arrangement in the company intra from his neighborhood, Blaine agrees instantly.
If he only knew how one innocent helpful act is going to change his life.
Love Is The End by @heartsmadeofbooks
After the unthinkable happens on his wedding day, Kurt Hummel has to learn how to navigate life after heartbreak. But he is not alone – his best friend, Blaine Anderson, is there to take him on a journey back to happiness and love.
My First Will Be My Last by @sir-pyllero
Kurt and Blaine were best friends through high school, best friends when Kurt moved to New York and they are still best friends when Blaine moves in with him. Apart from a few friendly kisses, things have stayed platonic between them. Until Kurt comes home one day, asks a question that turns to actions that turns to feelings that may or may not have always been there.
Rumour Has It by @chrisspiration
When Kurt has a one night stand and literally runs into someone while doing the walk of shame, the attractive stranger decides to help him out. This is the story of how Kurt and Blaine meet, become friends, and get together.
Secret Urges by @kookaburrito
Fill for the Glee Kink Meme. A fic about Dalton roommates Kurt and Blaine (starting as acquaintances but progressing through friendship to eventual relationship) who keep inadvertently walking in on each other masturbating, then a time or two when the “discovery” is intentional. Their reactions reflect the current state of their relationship, following canon timeline.
Sometimes It’s Just That Easy by @mailroomorder
He doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow Kurt ends up on the opposite side of the country for college. While there he runs into Blaine, who’s fun and happy and never around and always busy. But the closer Kurt gets to Blaine the more he likes him. He just so happens to be lucky enough that Blaine likes him back.
Stay with Me by @scatter-the-stars
Blaine has found the ideal apartment. There’s two problems. One, he needs a roommate to help with the rent. Two, only married couples can live in the building. The last thing he expects is for Kurt to step in and help him. It turns out living with Kurt helps him realize feelings he didn’t know he had. And sleeping with him doesn’t make things better.
The Wedding Singer by JonasGeek
Blaine Anderson, a wedding singer, and Kurt, a waiter, are both engaged, but to the wrong people. Life takes a few twists and turns, and helps them discover each other.
Wandering Around Back To You by @munchkinpandas24
From strangers to floormates to best friends, to roommates, to the closest two people can be. This is the story of two boys who found each other and never let go.
We’ll All Float On by @klemonademouth
“We can’t help it, you two are entertaining. It’s like watching reality TV, but far more intelligent and with more sexual repression.” Wes was cradling a tub of popcorn. “Or a documentary on the mating rituals or lack thereof of gay teenagers.” Klaine.
You Got Me Singing in the Shower by @caramelcoffeeaddict
Kurt Hummel hated the communal bathrooms in his dorm. That is…until he met Blaine Anderson there.
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Candy Girl pt. 1
This is my very first attempt at an actual series, and based on the amount of feedback I got on the post asking if I should do this, I think it should be really fun. My computer is down and I’m using mobile, So if you see an wierd block and explanation point on some of the Letter I’s, let me know and I’ll fix this problem . Enjoy!!!!
Warnings: mentions of past abuse, mentions of possible abortion
Synopsis: Ragnar Lothbrok is one of the most successful men in the western world, creating a monopoly from the ground up practically. He owns a series of both banks and petrol stations across numerous cities in Los Angeles county, but underneath his wealth, five children and two ex wives, he’s a very lonely man.
Word count: 1.5k-ish
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December 7, 1974 was both his birth day, and his mother’s death day. Ragnar Lothbrok had grown up in a small town in Oklahoma, just outside of Tulsa, with an alcoholic father. The man resented his son for the 18 years that he raised him, beating him with a metal coat hanger when the boy did something that displeased him.
Ragnar was desperate to leave that place. To leave his abusive father and his idiot classmates. Past the age of 14, he spent his summers, and even the afternoons during the school year, working on the fields for 50 dollars a day. By 18 he had saved up nearly 80,000 dollars, well enough for a one way plane ticket to California.
When he left he doubted his father even noticed, being passed out drunk on the couch as he walked out with a single off brand yellowed and tearing suitcase.
The first year in California was spent in a beach city near the ports where he quickly found work as a manual labor on the docks. He loved the freedom of being here, he loved the cool ocean breeze, and he loved the women. His evenings off work were often spent in a nightclub downtown, where he only got in with a 20 dollar bribe to the bouncer. That’s how he met his first wife, Lagertha.
She was a beautiful and incredibly intelligent woman, going to the local university, and majoring in social science. They were married within 6 months of meeting one another. A courthouse wedding and subpar “bridal suite” later, and the two were expecting a child.
The boy, Bjorn Ironside Lothbrok was born a hefty 7.6 pounds, with bright blue eyes and a tuft of yellow hair. The happy and outgoing child did nothing to stop the divorce of the couple. At age 6, Bjorn’s mother and father had officially gotten a divorce.
The custody battles were the worst, as his father brought around his bow pregannt mistress, Aslaug. Even at a young age Bjorn wondered a few things about the woman; the first being, why would she wore such tacky eyeliner, and the second being how his father could so easily attract beautiful women.
Aslaug would go on to have 3 perfectly healthy pregnancies with Ragnar, resulting in 3 beautiful baby boys that all strongly resembled their father. Her fourth pregnancy however, was the difficult one. The doctors said it wasn’t her age or health, but rather a rare condition that her child had inherited. Apparently both Ragnar and his wife carried genes for a rare bone disease, Osteogenesis Imperfecta. After 3 healthy pregnancies, all Aslaug could do was thank the gods that only one child of hers would be crippled.
Ragnar took the news to heart, and nearly convinced his wife to have an abortion, so the child wouldn’t come into this world miserable. Thankfully, the kindhearted woman could not bring herself to do such a thing, and instead flung herself into reading numerous medical books and studies of the disease. By her third trimester she was nearly an expert on the disease, and hoped that her son only inherited a very mild case, that would effect him only in very small ways.
The 17 hour birth resulted in a baby boy with severely deformed legs, that looked almost like those of a goat, certainly out of place on such a beautiful child. By then she had accepted that her son would be physically very different from his brothers.
Raising 5 kids was hard on Asluag, and Ragnar was gone most of the time. He had recently taken his savings and boyght up stocks, resulting in a large payout. When the nearest Petrol station had gone up for sale, he jumped at the chance to buy it.
As the neighborhood grew from a series of shaggy streets lined with apartments and liquor stores to an upscale metropolis, Ragnar was looking at nearly 30,000 dollars a month in profits alone.
The family moved from a three bedroom apartment to a nine bedroom house within his first year of owning the petrol station.
Asluag stayed home and educated the children through home school, always giving Ivar extra attention, while Ragnar came home in the evenings and taught the boys to box, being practically a semi professional himself.
As the boys grew, so did Ragnar’s business. With the excess monetary means coming in monthly, he was able to purchase 3 more petrol stations in the up and coming town. Within 6 months, he was making a million dollars annually, and had begun to consider buying up a franchise, or better yet, founding a company.
Ragnar was absent in his children’s lives for the better part of a decade, being buried in stacks of paperwork, overseas meetings, and tough financial decisions. With the help of his older brother, Rollo, who had also managed to get out of that town.
Within 15 years of living in California, Ragnar was more successful than he could have ever imagined. He moved his family to Beverly Hills, as a status symbol of course; he knew he could never really belong there. With his new assets, he was able to purchase several minor clothing lines, and even a bank in West Los Angeles, just off Wilshire.
His acquired name in the city amongst the other investors was King Ragnar, being as he dominated the city, buying out restaurants, gas stations, and even in one case a small pet shop. The man’s fortune had been made, and he could safely prove to everyone in his hometown that he had finally made ít but ìt left him in a bit of an uncomfortable position: managing nearly 6 separate corporations. Ìt would take years of strategic deals and sales to inconspicuously line up the companies for merging, and he wasn’t about to risk losing his new fortune.
For the first few years, he was irresponsible, traveling regularly to other countries, indulging in le than gentlemen like activities, and finding a liking to prescription painkillers. Even through all this, as his sons grew, he knew that he had to continue to maintain the empire that they would one day inherit.
When his youngest son, Ivar, was 16, Ragnar divorced his wife Aslaug. She had become a heavy drinker, and only caused problems, including the accidental death of Bjorn’s child. His granddaughter. That was the breaking point for him, and within 2 months, the divorce process had been expedited through a series of bribes on his part.
The divorce hit Ragnar hard, leaving him lonely, even with the company of his sons. The boys indulged in activities just as he had, resulting in him paying nearly 500,000 dollars total in bail money for the 4 youngest sons. Maybe this was genetic, or maybe they were all jackasses. When his youngest son had turned 18, Ragnar was free to do as he pleased. He left his house, opting to rent the house out to small filmmakers, which he later learned were actually pornographic filmmakers, but hey, live and learn. He moved to a one bedroom loft in downtown Los Angeles, where he could easily commute to work, even by foot.
Ragnar wasn’t one for expensive looking clothing. He was raised by a frugal father, and sometimes could still see that quality peeking out. He wore the same pair of Salvatore Ferragamo shoes every day for nearly two years, until Hvitserk, his middle son, had forced him to purchase new ones.
He didn’t spend much money on his wardrobe, and every dollar he made went to his cars. As a teen he drove the same red Ford pickup truck for 3 years straight, so he could tell where his love for luxury cars stemmed from. He had a total of 16 cars, totalling at well over 7 million dollars. They were his children, well, figurative children. His sons were living in Toronto, New York, Vegas, basically any city that he wasn’t living in.
Instead of spending time and money trying to find another wife, he simply focused on work. Nearly 5 years after the bitter divorce him and Aslaug went through, he started to want another relationship, to want someone to hold and someone to talk to at night. So, he began to date. He went on a total of 112 dates with 112 woman. He counted, and none of them ever got to a second date. The minute that he mentioned owning a company, that was all that the women could talk about. There was never really a true connection.
One of his associates told him of a method that they used, and as complicated as the conversation was, ìt basically meant “Hey man, you’re too rich to find a girl and too lonely? Pay a younger chick to be around you, basically worship you” . He thought the man was crazy at first, but eventually grew into liking the idea. After nearly 7 and a half months of searching for a so called “Sugar Baby”, he finally settled on a beautiful girl with dark brown eyes, tan skin, and light brown hair. Her name is Jazmyn.
#ragnar lothbrok#ragnar lodbrok#sugar dating#vikings#vikings au#sugar daddy au#daddy ragnar#fuck yes
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4 Tips to Choose the Best Wedding Limo Rental
Will you soon be taking the Business Class Limo Service, FL or the surrounding area? Whether you are the bride or groom, the best man or the first bridesmaid, you want to be sure that you get the best possible wedding limousine rental. If you have never rented a limousine, that can be a challenge. Fortunately, there are a few tips that make the process much easier.
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It Fits Everyone
One of the first tips here is to ensure that your limousine rental is suitable for all passengers who have to drive it. That may seem obvious - it is only for the bride and groom, right? What about the rest of the wedding party, or the groomsmen? Do you use the limousine to bring important guests from the wedding location to the reception? Provide enough space for everyone.
It is the Right Limo
Another important tip is to make sure you rent the right type of vehicle. If the bride and groom have traditional flavors, a standard black limousine might be the perfect option. However, if they are a little less traditional, they may prefer something else, such as a Challenger limo or even a limousine in armored cars.
The Right Drivers
The limousine is only part of the rental experience. You must also pay attention to the driver behind the wheel. Does the limo rental company hire someone with a driver's license, or do they stand for quality, training, experience and professionalism? Remember that everyone in the limousine will rely on the skills, experience and expertise of the driver, so it pays to be picky here.
Written Contracts
This tip helps ensure that if something goes wrong, you can stand a leg in a dispute with the rental company. Errors happen. People hear instructions wrong. Indications can be distorted. Make sure you get a copy of the lease and that all details are detailed. Ideally, you have this contract at hand well before the big day to view it and make corrections to everything that is needed.
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When it comes to celebrating your special day, it is important that you work with the best wedding limo rental company in South Florida. We invite you to call Lucca Transportation on +1 561-317-0409, +1 561-855-8913 to find out more about why our customers consistently score high on us.
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Why Choose Fortuner Car Rental in Rajasthan for Your Next Trip?
Rajasthan, the land of royalty, is home to magnificent palaces, ancient forts, and vibrant culture. Exploring this majestic state requires a vehicle that offers both comfort and reliability. That’s where Fortuner car rental in Rajasthan comes in. Whether you’re traveling for leisure or business, a Toyota Fortuner can elevate your journey in more ways than one.
1. Unmatched Comfort for Long Drives
Rajasthan’s landscapes are vast and diverse, ranging from the golden sand dunes of Jaisalmer to the lush green hills of Mount Abu. With such long distances to cover, comfort is a top priority. The Toyota Fortuner, known for its spacious interiors and plush seating, ensures that you and your companions have a smooth ride, no matter how far you go.
Additionally, its advanced suspension system absorbs road shocks effectively, making bumpy desert roads feel like a breeze.
2. Superior Performance on Diverse Terrains
Rajasthan’s roads can be unpredictable, especially when venturing into remote areas. A Fortuner is built to handle diverse terrains, including highways, deserts, and even rugged mountain roads. Its powerful engine and robust 4x4 capabilities make it a reliable partner for off-road adventures.
Whether you’re navigating the sand dunes of the Thar Desert or climbing the winding roads to Udaipur, the Fortuner ensures a hassle-free journey.
3. Spacious and Practical Design
Traveling in Rajasthan often means carrying luggage, souvenirs, or even camping gear. The Fortuner offers ample boot space to accommodate everything you need for your trip. Its spacious cabin comfortably seats up to seven passengers, making it perfect for family trips or group travel.
With a Fortuner, you won’t have to worry about cramming into a small car or leaving essentials behind.
4. Luxury on Wheels
A trip to Rajasthan is all about experiencing royalty, and the Fortuner adds a touch of luxury to your travels. Its premium interiors, modern infotainment system, and climate control features ensure you travel in style.
Imagine cruising through the royal streets of Jaipur or Jodhpur in a vehicle that complements the grandeur of your surroundings. The Fortuner lets you explore Rajasthan in both comfort and elegance.
5. Safety Comes First
Safety is paramount, especially when traveling in unfamiliar territory. The Fortuner is equipped with advanced safety features such as ABS (Anti-lock Braking System), airbags, vehicle stability control, and hill-assist technology.
Whether you’re driving through narrow village roads or bustling city streets, you can rely on the Fortuner to keep you and your loved ones safe.
6. Flexible Rental Options
When opting for a Fortuner car rental in Rajasthan, you’ll find plenty of flexible options to suit your travel needs. Most rental services offer hourly, daily, and weekly plans, allowing you to customize your trip according to your schedule.
Whether you need a car for a quick weekend getaway or an extended tour across the state, Fortuner rentals offer the convenience and flexibility you need.
7. Perfect for Group Travel
Rajasthan’s charm is best experienced in the company of friends or family. With its seven-seat configuration, the Fortuner is ideal for group travel. Everyone can sit comfortably without feeling cramped, and there’s still room for luggage.
Traveling together in one vehicle also adds to the fun, as you share stories and enjoy the scenic views along the way.
8. Cost-Effective for Larger Groups
While renting a luxury SUV might seem expensive at first glance, it’s a cost-effective option for larger groups. Instead of hiring two smaller cars, you can save money by choosing a single Fortuner that accommodates everyone.
This not only reduces rental costs but also saves on fuel and other expenses. Plus, you’ll enjoy the added convenience of traveling together.
9. Enhances Your Rajasthan Experience
Rajasthan is a state of grandeur, and your mode of transport should reflect that. Exploring the majestic Amer Fort in Jaipur, the iconic Mehrangarh Fort in Jodhpur, or the serene lakes of Udaipur feels even more special when you arrive in a premium vehicle like the Fortuner.
The Fortuner doesn’t just get you to your destination—it enhances the overall travel experience by making every moment of the journey memorable.
10. Convenient Pickup and Drop Services
Many Fortuner car rental in Rajasthan services offer convenient pickup and drop-off facilities. Whether you’re arriving at Jaipur airport, Jodhpur railway station, or any other location, you can have the car delivered to your preferred spot.
This saves you the hassle of navigating public transport or arranging additional taxis, ensuring a seamless travel experience from start to finish.
Tips for Renting a Fortuner in Rajasthan
If you’re convinced that a Fortuner is the right choice for your trip, here are some tips to keep in mind when renting:
Book in Advance: Fortuners are in high demand, especially during peak tourist seasons. Booking early ensures availability and better rates.
Check Rental Policies: Understand the terms and conditions, including mileage limits, fuel policies, and insurance coverage.
Inspect the Vehicle: Before setting off, check the car for any pre-existing damage and ensure that all features are functioning properly.
Compare Rates: Don’t settle for the first rental service you come across. Compare prices and reviews to find the best deal.
Conclusion
A trip to Rajasthan is an adventure of a lifetime, and the right vehicle can make all the difference. Choosing a Fortuner car rental in Rajasthan ensures that you travel in comfort, style, and safety. With its superior performance, spacious design, and luxurious features, the Toyota Fortuner is the perfect companion for exploring this royal state.
So, the next time you plan a journey through Rajasthan, consider renting a Fortuner to make your trip truly unforgettable!
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The Rubaiyat of E.Joyce Francis
The Rubaiyat of E. Joyce Francis
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, The Astronomer–Poet of Persia, Translated into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald with “engraved headpieces by E. Joyce Francis”, was published as no.6 of the Ebenezer Baylis Booklets, in Worcester in 1934 (1). It was a limited edition of 500 copies. Using FitzGerald’s first edition, it contained five headpieces and one tailpiece, these being shown as Figs.1a, 1b, 1c, 1d, 1e & 1f. Mostly the illustrations seem to be generic rather than related to specific verses, though Fig.1a is clearly the dawn associated with the opening verse, and Fig.1f clearly depicts the turning down of an empty glass in the closing verse. Fig.1e, for example, is clearly a generic depiction of Omar and his Beloved, in the booklet somewhat incongruously located towards the end of the Potter’s Shop interlude. Again, Fig.1b could refer either to verse 33 (“Then to the rolling Heav’n itself I cried...”) or to verse 52 (“And that inverted Bowl we call the Sky...”), neither of which is anywhere near the illustration. The colophon of the booklet is shown in Fig.1g. This lists the consultant–typographer as Leonard Jay, whose name we shall encounter later in connection with the Birmingham School of Printing. We shall have more to say about the other books she illustrated in this series below, but meanwhile, who was E. Joyce Francis ?
Biographical
There is little or no information readily available about her and her work. She gets no mention at all in either Brigid Peppin’s and Lucy Micklethwait’s Dictionary of British Book Illustrators: the 20th Century (1983) or in Alan Horne’s Dictionary of 20th Century British Book Illustrators (1994). Nor is she mentioned in Albert Garrett’s book A History of British Wood Engraving (1978). But thanks to some online research of ancestry records, and more particularly, thanks to contacts with her daughter–in–law, Sylvia Goodborn; her niece, Barbara Chisholm; with Joyce’s friend of many years, John Perfect, and his wife Sue; and with Jane Dew, who likewise knew Joyce for many years, we can rectify that.
Eleanor Joyce Francis was born in West Bromwich on 6th June 1904. In the 1911 census we find her, age 6, living with her family at 57 Bayswater Road, Handsworth, Birmingham. Curiously her name is spelt Elinor on the census return (as it is elsewhere, for that matter – see below – though on her birth certificate it is Eleanor.) Her father is Harry Morris Francis, age 38, an Assistant Secretary at the Birmingham and Midland Institute (the BMI still exists today); her mother Charlotte Francis, is also age 38; and she has an older sister, Margery Francis, age 10. The family is prosperous enough to have a general servant or domestic called Rachel Williams, aged 47.
Joyce (for so she was familiarly known) attended Birmingham School of Arts and Crafts between 1921 and 1935, but with a gap in her studies in the year 1924–5 (the academic year ran from September of one year to the end of August the next), and another between 1927 and 1929. (No–one seems to know what she did in the gaps.) Records there show that she studied elementary art in 1921–2; general drawing in 1922–3; book illustration in 1923–4; craft in 1925–6; wood cuts in 1926–7; and drawing & painting in 1933–4. Details for the other years she attended the School are scant, unfortunately, being restricted to enrolment date and such like. As for the somewhat vague heading of crafts, it would appear that it included book–binding, pottery and textiles. Her skills in book illustration and the creation of wood cuts, were, of course, put to good use in the Ebenezer Baylis booklets mentioned above, and of which we shall have more to say below. During the period 1921–1933 she was living with her family at 152 Hamstead Road, Handsworth, Birmingham, but sometime during the academic year 1932–3, the family moved to 82 Hagley Road, Edgbaston, Birmingham, where they were still living in 1935 (2).
In the third quarter of 1938 Joyce married Arthur Thomas Goodborn in Birmingham, and though she was now Eleanor Joyce Goodborn she continued to use Eleanor Joyce Francis as her professional name. In the 1939 electoral roll the couple are recorded as living at 8 Colinette Road, Putney. London SW15, for reasons possibly connected to her husband’s family – he had been born in Lambeth, London in 1905. In the second quarter of 1939 their daughter Marianne was born in Wandsworth. Some time after that they moved to Loughborough, where her husband was the Senior Tutor in the Department of Teacher Training at Loughborough College. It was in Loughborough that their son John was born in November 1943. Some time after that, they moved to Birmingham, where he had been appointed the Arts and Crafts Inspector for Schools in the Birmingham area, and where she was to teach Arts and Crafts in the Education Department of Birmingham University. Of their two children, Marianne was to remain unmarried, dying in 1998, as we shall see, but John, who died in 2016, was to marry twice. Sylvia being his second wife, she only got to know Joyce from 1973, by which time Joyce had left Birmingham to live in Wales, on which more presently.
As for Joyce’s husband, Arthur Thomas Goodborn, he died in Handsworth, Birmingham, in 1952, aged only 46. Probate records give the couple’s address as 35 Wyecliffe Road, Handsworth, his effects of £5425 16s 6d being left to his widow, Elinor (sic) Joyce Goodborn – not a fortune, but quite a lot of money in those days.
A number of photographs of Joyce have survived, and one of particular note is that of Fig.2a. It is undated, but has the feel of the 1960s about it, and shows Joyce teaching a pottery class (presumably at the University.) The photo was supplied by Sylvia Goodborn, who describes it as “absolutely her.” For comparison, the photograph of Joyce in Fig.2b was taken at Jane Dew’s wedding in 1968. The somewhat dark photograph of Joyce shown in Fig.2c, supplied by Barbara Chisholm, was clearly taken much later, probably at Cae Newydd (of which more below.) Barbara also supplied the photo of Joyce as a little girl, shown here as Fig.2d.
In the late 1950s John Perfect met Joyce through the Youth Fellowship of St Michael’s Church, Handsworth, where she often used to give talks about art. He was in his mid–teens at the time with ambitions to go to art school, so they had something in common and struck up a lasting friendship. (Sue Perfect, incidentally, got to know Joyce somewhat later, from about 1968.)
According to John, St Michael’s Church and Joyce’s talks were attended by the professional people that lived in the Handsworth of those days – doctors, journalists, business people and such like.
Handsworth was a safe Tory seat. The MP was Sir Edward Boyle whose idea of electioneering was to cruise round the area, waving from his Rolls Royce.
As for 35 Wyecliffe Road, it was “a large semi–detached house of an art nouveau style, probably built in the twenties or early thirties.” It is still there today.
Jane Dew told me:
I met Joyce and her daughter and son in the late 1950s when my parents moved back to Birmingham from South Devon. Joyce lived in the same road (Wyecliffe Road) and my mother soon made friends with her. I was still at Secondary School but Joyce knew l really wanted to train in the Arts.
She regularly taught me, informally, techniques and history, lending me books and taking me to exhibitions. She knew a wide range of people and her house was regularly full of musicians, actors and artists. I made friends with her daughter, older than me by a decade, and her son, just a few years older than me.
But, John goes on:
Joyce didn’t care for Birmingham and for some time before I knew her she and her husband had rented a cottage on the hilltop behind Aberdovey in Wales. Called Cae Newydd, it is clearly marked on the ordnance survey map for the area.
Jane adds that Joyce and her husband began to rent Cae Newydd in the early years of World War 2, so that if Birmingham was bombed, the family had a safe haven. Come the late 1950s, Jane adds:
Knowing l missed the countryside, she invited me to stay with them during the school holidays.
I stayed with them for many years and grew to love the area. I regularly accompanied Joyce, with her son, to deliver her paintings to galleries, and help with the unpacking/packing. She also allowed me to draw in her studio, sitting away from each other and working in comparative silence!
She was immensely generous and encouraging, especially when l gained a place at Birmingham College of Art & Crafts (now Birmingham City University). My career as an embroiderer was greatly influenced by Joyce, and I remember her showing me how to design a repeat lino/woodcut to produce an effect like that shown here (Fig.3).
Aberdovey (or Aberdyfi as it is known now) is on the west coast of Wales, about 8 miles north of Aberystwyth. After her husband’s death she continued to rent the cottage, and to stay there as often as she could escape from Birmingham. As for getting back and forth between Birmingham and Aberdovey, John tells us:
Transport was a problem and she bought a succession of rather scruffy vans and cars. She’d load her painting gear into them and take off. Amazingly they never let her down, though she did have a man who maintained them for her. By far the nicest was a Ford ten of late 40’s vintage that had a wood–panelled body that used to be described as a shooting–brake or woody style. I remember the bonnet being opened to reveal an engine that appeared to be smaller than the battery; also, it had pre–war pattern, rod–operated brakes, so it was fortunate that it didn’t go very fast.
John’s first trip to Cae Newydd was in one of Joyce’s vans, when he was in his late teens, and he was to visit it many times thereafter. On occasion he even looked after the cottage, when Joyce was away teaching in Birmingham. His picture of the cottage, done from a photograph taken in about 1980, is shown in Fig.4.
His pen–picture of Joyce back then is wonderful and tallies with Figs.2a & 2b:
She was a woman of ample proportions and wore her long grey hair tied in a bun at the back. She wore long, floppy skirts, frilly blouses, often fastened with a cameo brooch, and a man’s wrist–watch that had probably belonged to her husband. All very Margaret Rutherford.
In 1960 Cae Newydd came up for sale and Joyce bought it. It was, shall we say, very basic – there was no running water (that had to be brought in from a nearby stream, and boiled before use), and there was no electricity supply until poles were put up for the farms in the area in the early 1960s. Thus for quite some time there were only oil lamps for lighting, for example, and log fires for heating. As for the toilet, it was a slate–built shed outside the cottage. A mountain stream entered and exited through holes in the walls, and there was a wooden seat by way of luxury. Joyce apparently referred to it as having a “two hole perpetual flush.” But to her the cottage was idyllic and she regarded it is her spiritual home. John goes on:
To get on with Joyce it was necessary to pass the Cae Newydd test. Those who liked the place despite its privations were in. Those who didn’t, and they were many, were regarded rather differently.
But in 1973, finances dictated that if she wanted to keep Cae Newydd, Joyce had to sell her Birmingham home. With her daughter, Marianne, she moved to Aberdovey, and bought a small shop in New Street there which also had living accommodation. There, they opened what we would now call an Arts & Crafts café, in which they sold a variety of home–made goods as well as pictures by Joyce. Sue Perfect told me:
I remember the goods at the tearoom as being mostly the patchwork quilts, the woollen blankets and the occasional rag rug. The material was mainly recycled not the sort of material one can buy on a bale. Ultimately it was a source that would sooner or later outstrip supply but for the while the tweeds were matched and separated from the cottons so that the finished article was colour and weight matched. The rag rug pieces were poked and drawn through individually onto hessian or sacks, not the prepared backs that one can purchase from craft shops today. Joyce and Marianne were incredibly resourceful and would use anything that would bring a creative pleasure to them and others.
To this account of early recycling, Jane Dew added that the blankets were knitted from wool which in part had been collected from the wire fences of nearby farms, having been scratched off the backs of passing sheep!
Joyce also used to run craft workshops there – patchwork and spinning were two popular examples. The café side of things was run by Marianne. The business was very successful, but neither Joyce nor her daughter were temperamentally suited to a 9 to 5 lifestyle, and, at least on the arts and crafts front, demand rapidly outran supply – at one point Joyce sold the quilt off her own bed to one insistent customer. So, having made sufficient money, Joyce decided to sell the shop and spend the proceeds on Cae Newydd. That was when the real problems began.
Cae Newydd was, as already indicated, one of those homes which sounds idyllic, and indeed was so, for a short stay in summer. But in the winter, with wind, rain & snow blowing in from Cardigan Bay, it was cold, damp, and with no running water and only a primitive outside toilet, it was far from idyllic. The stresses and strains eventually had their effect. Joyce suffered a major stroke and was admitted on a permanent basis to Towyn Hospital, where she died in 1985. Marianne stayed on, but she too was “eventually invalided out” (as John puts it), and she died in the same hospital as her mother in 1998.
Joyce was an active member of the Aberdovey / Aberdyfi Art Society, which still exists today. Unfortunately, despite diligent enquiries by Stewart Jones, Kate Coldham and others, none of the current membership approached remembered much if anything about Joyce, which is perhaps not surprising given that she died over thirty years ago.
Books Illustrated: the Birmingham School of Printing
Joyce was closely associated with the Birmingham School of Printing, which was housed in the Birmingham School of Arts and Crafts, in Margaret Street, in the city centre. (In 1971 the School of Arts and Crafts was absorbed into Birmingham Polytechnic and subsequently into Birmingham City University, the Margaret Street building now being BCU’s Department of Fine Art.) Prominent in its history was Leonard Jay.
Jay was born in Bungay, Suffolk in 1888 into a family which had been much involved in printing. His family moved to London in 1893, and by 1905 he had left school and become an apprentice printer. In 1912 he joined the part–time staff of the London County Council School of Arts and Crafts, becoming a full time member of staff in 1924. He was appointed as the first head of the Birmingham School of Printing in 1925, a post he held until he retired in 1953. He died in 1963 (3a). Under Jay’s overall direction, students, guided by their teachers, produced no less than 192 books and pamphlets between 1926 and 1953 (3b), these including three editions of The Rubaiyat (3c).
In the 1930s Joyce produced illustrations for six booklets for the Birmingham School of Printing. Perhaps not surprisingly, three centre on John Baskerville (1706���1775), who is principally known today as the Birmingham–based printer and designer of typefaces.
Baskerville is worthy of an Omarian aside. Despite being a confirmed atheist, in 1763 he printed what was to become one of the classic editions of the Bible. It was, of course, an exercise in Printing, not Devotion – with equal ‘piety’ he had printed an equally classic edition of Horace in 1762. (I can sympathise with that: my own religious views are similar, yet I wrote a book on religious medals.) But of greater interest is the fact that, in accordance with his wishes, when Baskerville died in 1775 he was buried, in an upright position, beneath a conical monument of his own design (formerly a windmill, apparently), deliberately situated in the unconsecrated ground of his own estate. This was, as the epitaph of his own composition made clear, in protest at “the Idle Fears of Superstition and the Wicked Arts of Priesthood.” Alas, in 1821, he turned out to be in the way of an ongoing canal construction: his monument was dismantled, and his body was, to cut a lengthy story short, moved, in defiance of his wishes, to the consecrated ground of the crypt of Christ Church, Birmingham. Arguably Baskerville got his revenge, though, for in 1897 the church had to be demolished. Unfortunately, his revenge was short–lived, for his body was then moved to a vault under the chapel of the Church of England Warstone Lane Cemetery, again in consecrated ground (4a). There matters rested until 1963, in which year a petition was presented to Birmingham City Council arguing that the wishes of one of their most prominent citizens should be respected, and that his remains should be removed to unconsecrated ground. After all, it wasn’t just Baskerville's wishes that had to be respected: it was argued that the devout Christians alongside whom Baskerville had been buried might not like the idea of having an atheist in their midst! Alas, the petition seems to have been signed by only about a dozen people, none of whom was related to the deceased, so the Council decided, in view of the difficultes involved in finding some legally suitable unconsecrated ground, to leave poor Baskerville where he was, atheist or not (4b)
But to return to the publications of the Birmingham School of Printing, the three Baskerville booklets in which Joyce had a hand were, in order of publication date:
Letters of the famous 18th century printer, John Baskerville of Birmingham: together with a bibliography of works printed by him at Birmingham collected, compiled and printed under the direction of Leonard Jay(1932), for which Joyce did the frontispiece portrait of Baskerville (Fig.5a). (The portrait is seemingly based on a 1774 portrait of Baskerville by James Millar in Birmingham City Museum and Art Gallery.) (4c)
Dr Hans H. Bockwitz, Baskerville in Letters, translated by Herbert Woodbine (1933). The cover illustration was as in Fig.5a, but printed in red ink on a pale blue background (Fig.5b).
Dr Hans Bockwitz, John Baskerville in the Judgement of German Contemporaries, translated by A.B. Hill (1937). The cover illustration was as in Fig.5a.
The three other booklets illustrated by Joyce for the Birmingham School of Printing were, again in order of publication date:
William Shakespeare – Venus and Adonis (1934). Its fine front cover is shown in Fig.6a and its four headpieces by Joyce are shown in Fig.6b, 6c, 6d & 6e. These are my personal favourites amongst Joyce’s book illustrations. Curiously this booklet does not appear in either of the bibliographies cited in note (3b).
Benjamin Walker, Saint Philip’s Church Birmingham, and its Groom–Porter Architect (1935), for which Joyce did the frontispiece (Fig.7).
William Bennett, Richard Greene, the Lichfield Apothecary & his Museum of Curiosities (1935), for which Joyce did the cover portrait of Richard Greene (Fig.8). This was one of a series titled Johnsoniana: Dr. Samuel Johnson & his friends, though Joyce only illustrated this one.
Books Illustrated: Ebenezer Baylis & Son, Worcester
Ebenezer Erskine Baylis, the founder of the firm in 1858, was born in Worcester in 1834 and died in London in 1920. In the census return for 1851, living with his family in Worcester; he is recorded as being a printer’s apprentice. In 1856, in the Parish Church of Edgbaston, Birmingham, he married Sarah Elizabeth Lane, also born in Worcester. At the time of the marriage, he was a printer living in Birmingham. Their first child, Marion Jesse Baylis, was born in Birmingham in 1857. Shortly after, in 1858, as noted above, he founded his printing firm. In the 1861 census, he and Sarah were now living in their own house in Worcester. Besides their daughter Marion, they now had a son, Frank Edwin Baylis (born in 1859.) In the Census Return Ebenezer is listed as a Printer Compositor. At the time of the 1871 census, they were still living in Worcester, though at a different address, Ebenezer being recorded as a printer employing three boys. By now, besides Marion and Frank, they had another son Ralph Archibald Baylis (born 1865), plus another daughter, Ruth L. G. Baylis (born in 1866).
It was Frank Edwin Baylis who was to become the “Son” in “Ebenezer Baylis and Son.” By the time of the 1911 census he was a master printer, bookbinder and wholesale stationer in Worcester, married with five children, three of whom seem to have been employed in the family business. As noted above, Ebenezer Baylis died in 1920, and in 1924 the firm, now with Frank Edwin Baylis as its director, was registered as a limited company. He was to die in 1935, after which the business seems to have passed to his son, Frank Russell Baylis, who by the time of the 1911 census, at the age of 22, was already a master printer, and who was listed as the second major shareholder, after his father, in the application for limited company status in 1924. The two other lesser shareholders were two of Frank Edwin’s other children, Clifford Erskine Baylis, Printer, and Marion Dora White Baylis, Cashier.
The firm continued under the name of Ebenezer Baylis and Son Ltd until 2001, after which its history need not concern us.
Our main concern here, of course, is with the series of twelve Ebenezer Baylis Booklets published between 1933 and 1935 (5), years after the death of Ebenezer, as follows:
No.1 – Fine Printing by Leonard Jay (1933) No.2 – Christmas by Washington Irving (1933) No.3 – Baskerville in Letters by Dr. Bockwitz (1934) No.4 – ABC by Geoffrey Chaucer (1934) No.5 – Parables taken from the Authorised Version of the Holy Bible (1934) No.6 – Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (1934) No.7 – The Book of Ruth (1934) No.8 – Gray’s Elegy (1934) No.9 – Preface to Milton’s Paradise Lost by John Baskerville (1935) No.10 – Hymn on the Morning of Christ’s Nativity by John Milton (1935) No.11 – Christ’s Sermon on the Mount (1935)/p No.12 – The Bible in Type by John Stone (1935)
All of these were published in association with the above-mentioned Leonard Jay of the Birmingham School of Printing, no.3 being essentially a reprint of the booklet published a year earlier by the School, and mentioned in the last section. Joyce contributed illustrations to six of the booklets as follows:
For no.2 she did a woodcut as a headpiece for the first page (Fig.9)
For no.3 she did the front cover illustration (effectively Fig.5b)
For no.4 she did a woodcut for the front cover (Fig.10)
For no.6, as we have seen already, she did six illustrations (Figs.1a, 1b, 1c, 1d, 1e & 1f)
For no.7 she did four woodcuts (Figs.11a, 11b, 11c & 11d)
For no.11 she did the frontispiece (Fig.12)
An interesting aside, relevant to the firm though not to Joyce, is perhaps worth mentioning here. In 1934, the firm of Ebenezer Baylis & Son, who by then had a London office in EC1, were involved in a libel case at the High Court of Justice, Hodgkinson v. Powys and Others. John Cowper Powys was the author of a novel, A Glastonbury Romance, published by John Lane, the Bodley Head Ltd, and printed by Ebenezer Baylis & Son Ltd. Capt. G.W. Hodgkinson thought that the rather dissolute character, Philip Crow, in this ‘saucy novel’, might be unjustifiably identified with him, as indeed he might given the details, though it is clear that any resemblance was purely accidental. Author, publisher and printer readily expressed unintended liability, great regret, and settled out of court (6).
What is not clear at the present time is how the company of Ebenezer Baylis & Son came to be associated with Leonard Jay and the Birmingham School of Printing. By the time Jay took up his post in Birmingham in 1925, Ebenezer Baylis had been dead for some years, and his son Frank Baylis was in charge. As indicated above, Ebenezer spent some time in Birmingham, and presumably had (family ?) connections there. This plus the common involvement in printing, may explain the connection between the firm and Jay. It may well be, too, as Caroline Archer of the Typographic Hub at Birmingham City University has suggested, that the firm, which was apparently a sponsor / supporter of the Birmingham School of Printing, took some of its apprentices from the School. However, at the moment no precise details are available.
Books Illustrated: Other
It is interesting that all of the foregoing works illustrated by Joyce were done in the 1930s. With one exception, to which we will turn later, I know of no work illustrated by her later than the Baskerville booklet, mentioned above, published in 1937. Whether this had anything to do with her marriage in 1938 and the birth of her daughter in 1939, I do not know, but certainly, back then, when women artists married and started a family, art sometimes took something of a back seat, though, as we shall see, Joyce certainly continued to paint.
Besides the illustrated works listed in the last two sections, there are only two other books illustrated by Joyce that I know of.
The first is of a totally different nature to any of the foregoing: Boccaccio’s Decameron, produced in two hefty volumes, printed at the Shakespeare Head Press, Saint Aldates, Oxford, and published for the Press by Basil Blackwell – vol.1 in 1934 and vol.2 in 1935 (again in the 1930s, note.) It was a limited edition of 325 copies (of which 300 were for sale), with another 3 copies printed on vellum. It was a sumptuous and exclusive edition, in other words, which today fetches high prices.
As the colophon at the end of vol.1 tells us:
The text of this first volume of the Decameron has been prepared from that of the first English translation, printed by Isaac Jaggard for Mathew Lownes in 1625, and compared with the first edition of 1620. The wood engravings have been recut by R. J. Beedham and E. Joyce Francis from those in the edition printed by the brothers Gregorii at Venice in 1492.
But we have to turn to “A Note on the Illustrations” at the end of vol.2 (p.267–8) to find out just who re–cut which wood engravings:
The illustrations which add both beauty and interest to the foregoing pages have been copied in facsimile with a very slight reduction from the woodcuts in the edition of the Decameron printed at Venice by the brothers Gregorii in 1492. They have been re–engraved on wood for the present edition – most of them by Mr R.J. Beedham but the engraving of those for the Second and Eighth Days is the work of Miss Joyce Francis.
Vol.1 covers the first five days of The Decameron, and vol.2 the last five, so, in effect, Joyce did one day in each volume, or about a fifth of the engravings. She did eleven engravings for the Second Day, three of which are shown here as Figs.13a, 13b & 13c. She also did eleven engravings for the Eighth Day, three of which are shown here as Figs.14a, 14b & 14c.
An image of vol.1, open at the title–page spread, was used to head the Printing section of British Art in Industry – 1935 (p.82), a souvenir booklet of an exhibition held at the Royal Academy that year. The exhibition, which took two years to set up, was supported not only by the Royal Academy, but also by the Royal Society of Arts. The front cover of the catalogue is shown in Fig.15a and an image of p.82 in Fig.15b.
How Joyce came to be involved in the publication of The Decameron is, alas, unknown at present. It may have been that she had contacts at the Shakespeare Head Press in Oxford, but it would seem more likely that her involvement came via her ‘senior’ co–worker on the project, R. J. Beedham. (7a)
Ralph John Beedham (1879–1975) was a master of the woodcut, his book Wood Engraving, with an Introduction and an Appendix by Eric Gill, having first been published by St. Dominic’s Press, Ditchling, Sussex, in 1921. In fact Beedham wrote the book at Gill’s suggestion (7b), though neither the Introduction nor the Appendix gives any details as to how this came about. Subsequently the book’s publication was taken over by Faber and Faber, though it was still printed at Ditchling, a fifth edition of it appearing in 1938.
Gill was instrumental in founding the Catholic Crafts Guild of St Joseph and St Dominic at Ditchling in 1920, St Dominic’s Press being its publishing arm. Though Beedham was certainly associated with Ditchling, it is not clear how much time he actually spent there. He was born and spent most of his life in London (7c), and indeed earned his living there, teaching at the London County Council School of Arts and Crafts. He had some connection with Ditchling as early as 1917 (7d) and may have spent some time at Ditchling in the early 1920s (7e), but this may well have been in School vacation times, and some of his work there may have been done by commuting from London. (Gill is known to have commuted from Ditchling to London as business dictated.) At any rate, Beedham’s role at Ditchling was not prominent enough for him to feature in Fiona MacCarthy’s detailed biography Eric Gill (1989), though he clearly impressed Gill enough to contribute to and publish his book.
As the book is a practical guide to the techniques of wood engraving, and as it was clearly popular enough to have run to a fifth edition by 1938, it appears highly likely that Joyce owned a copy. Since Beedham was 25 years older than Joyce, and since his teaching career was at the London County Council School of Arts and Crafts, rather than in Birmingham (where, as we saw earlier, Joyce studied Woodcuts in the academic year 1926–7), it would appear she was never a student of his, and so they must have come together via a different route. One possibility, of course, is that she simply wrote to the author of a book which she had found very useful, and he, impressed by her talent and enthusiasm, invited her to help him out with the large number of woodcuts required for the Boccaccio volumes. Another possibility is that she got to know Beedham via Leonard Jay, who, before taking up his post at Birmingham, had taught, like Beedham, at the London County Council School of Arts and Crafts.
[Beedham did have some connections with publishing in Wales (7f), but since these occurred well before Joyce and her husband took to living in Aberdovey, it is highly unlikely that they have any bearing on the Boccaccio.]
The one book (so far as I know!) which was illustrated by Joyce and which dates from well after the 1930s, was S. Malcolm Kirk’s Operation Panpipes published by Peter Nevill Ltd of London and New York in 1949. For it Joyce did a coloured frontispiece (Fig.16a) and ten black and white illustrations, five of which are shown here (Figs.16b–16f.) It is a children’s story set in post–war Britain (rationing is still in force!) and centres on three children, David, Jim and Margaret, who spend their annual holidays at Carrig on the West Coast of Scotland. Unfortunately their freedom to roam is severely restricted when the War Department decides to set up a Military Training Camp there, with artillery ranges and tank manoeuvres. One day, when the children are out playing, they meet the ancient god Pan (Fig.16a), who had fled from Greece to Scotland to escape the war, getting there by riding on the back of the winged horse, Pegasus. When he learns of the Military Training Camp he and the children hatch a plot (code name: Operation Panpipes) to drive the army out and restore the peace. The plot involves Pan enlisting the aid of the forces of Nature. Thus the Naiads (Nymphs of rivers, springs and ponds) flood the camp; the Nereids (Sea Nymphs) disrupt a naval landing exercise and the Hamadryads (Wood Nymphs) entangle the tanks in foliage. When the tanks are cut free and set out on a training exercise, the ground gives way under them because the Gnomes have hollowed out the earth below. At one point in the plot, the children get to ride Pegasus (Fig.16b) and at another, the Brigadier of the Camp gets assaulted in the rear by a Unicorn ridden by Pan (Fig.16c). During a peaceful interlude, the children and the animals of the wood are treated to a performance by Pan on his Pipes (Fig.16d), then it is back to business with the Loch Ness Monster deluging the soldiers with water (Fig.16e). Operation Panpipes works – the Army abandons the Carrig base – and peace is restored. There is a general celebration, this being shown in Fig.16f, probably the most interesting illustration in the book: Pan plays the bagpipes for a change, watched by (in the foreground) the wood nymphs (left), water nymphs (centre) and gnomes (right). The three children are in the audience, of course, along with various woodland creatures, and Mr and Mrs Pegasus are in the background, with their two foals, Black Spot and White Spot. Even the Unicorn is there, though by now the Loch Ness Monster has gone home. Note the EJF monogram in Figs.16a, 16b & 16e. We shall meet it again in the next section.
Why and how Joyce came to illustrate this book twelve years on from her last illustrated work, is not known, and little information is available about the author, Stanley Malcolm Kirk. He was born in Aston, Birmingham, in 1905. In the 1939 register he is listed as “partner in repetition engineer[ing firm?]” in Birmingham, which may explain why he seems to have written nothing else apart from this children’s story: this may well have been a one–off, done more or less as a hobby (8). In 1946 he married Annabella Sheila Cameron in Solihul (ie Birmingham again.) By 1965, though, they were living in Purley (London) and they were still there when Annabella died in 1979. S.M. Kirk himself died in nearby Croydon in 1990 (or at least his death was registered there.) Barbara Chisholm, who first alerted me to the existence of this wonderful little book, thinks that perhaps Joyce got to know the author through her older sister, Margery (Barbara’s mother.) Given the Birmingham connections just mentioned, this is quite possible.
Unpublished Art Work
Though Joyce gets no mention in most of the standard dictionaries of book illustrators and wood–engravers, she does get a brief mention of her paintings in J. Johnson and A. Greutzner’s book The Dictionary of British Artists 1880–1940 (1986). The entry tells us simply that she exhibited between 1928 and 1937; that she lived in Birmingham during this period; and that she exhibited 26 paintings at the Royal Society of Artists, Birmingham, and 5 paintings at the Royal Scottish Academy, no details of which are given. Fortunately, we can expand on that.
In 1928 at the Galleries of the Royal Academy in London there was held the 14th exhibition of the Arts and Crafts Society. It featured a wide range of crafts from ceramics through jewellery to furniture and prints. One of the prints, no.52 in the catalogue (p.32), was by Joyce. It was a colour print titled “Monkey”, though unfortunately no image of it seems to have survived. The front cover of the catalogue is shown in Fig.17a and the page relating to Joyce in Fig.17b. (The latter gives an interesting snapshot of the variety of material on display.) Joyce also featured in the 15th such exhibition in 1931, where an example of her book–binding was on display: a copy of Songs to Our Lady of Silence, bound in blue morocco with gold tooling (p.70 in the catalogue.) This book of devotional poems, by Mary Elise Woellworth, though she is not named in it as the author, was first published by Eric Gill’s St. Dominic’s Press, Ditchling, in 1920, with a second edition appearing in 1921. It contained five wood–engravings by Desmond Macready Chute (though he is not named in the book either.) St. Dominic’s Press was mentioned earlier in connection with R.J. Beedham, though whether this has any relevance to Joyce’s choice of a book on which to demonstrate her book–binding skills is not known.
As regards Joyce’s paintings, Jane Dew writes:
She exhibited widely and regularly submitted pieces for the Merionedd Artists. I know her work sold well and l clearly remember sitting in the back of the van, holding a single painting, often half a dozen, for delivery to a gallery or a purchaser. Her subjects were landscapes, l have one from the Cotswolds (“The White Road between Windrush and Burford” – Fig.18), given to me as a birthday present in 1962, and one from the Derbyshire Dales (“Via Gallia, Cromford” – Fig.19). She also painted floral subjects, frequently cyclamen, tulips, roses and lilac often with patterned pottery, often the one you were drinking from!
Neither of these pictures is signed or dated, but Joyce’s name and address are given on the back. The inscription on the back of the Cotswolds picture tells us that it was painted in her days at Loughborough, so in the early 1940s; that on the back of the Derbyshire Dales picture, that it was painted somewhat later, when she was living at Wyecliffe Road in Birmingham.
Jane also owns two woodcuts by Joyce, one of her garden at Loughborough (Fig.20) and the other of two penguins (Fig.21.) Note the monogrammed initials EJF in the lower left corner of the latter, as already noted in some of the illustrations for Operation Panpipes.
As regards Joyce exhibiting her paintings, Jane still has the catalogue of a County Art Exhibition held in Barmouth in the late summer of 1965. Its title page is shown in Fig.22a and the page listing Joyce’s contributions in Fig.22b.
Another of Joyce’s paintings is owned by John & Sue Perfect and is shown in Fig.23a. Signed on the front, its title, “Erw Pystill” (a farm near Cae Newydd), and a date of 1950, are given on the back (Fig.23b.) The back of the painting is interesting, for it tells us that it was at one point offered for sale at 15 guineas, presumably through a gallery, but that it was then withdrawn from sale for some unknown reason. Note that the back of the painting bears both her Birmingham address (35 Wyecliffe Rd, mentioned above) and the address of Cae Newydd. Interestingly a phone number is given for both addresses, odd in the case of the latter, which was at that time singularly devoid of most modern luxuries!
Another painting, signed and dated 1967, but untitled, is shown in Fig.24. This is owned by Christopher Riggio, of London, who bought it in “a posh junk shop on Lordship Lane, East Dulwich” in 2018, as it reminded him of the paintings done by a friend of his, Gareth Cadwallader.
The next painting (Fig.25) was sold by Monopteros Fine Art some time ago, the gallery listing it as “Welsh Border Landscape” by E. Joyce Francis. But there is a mystery surrounding this picture, for it is unsigned and undated, and there is nothing on the back of the painting to link it to Joyce. On the contrary, on the back of the painting, in pencil, is written: “ St.Georges Comp / Marion C Robison / Farm in the North Riding / 1471.” If anything, then, this suggests that the painting is by Marion C. Robison and depicts a farm in the North Riding. So what is going on here ?
The present owner of the picture is Jeremy Fisher, the son of the gallery owner, and he was able to tell me that the picture had come to the gallery attributed to Joyce and with the title, “Craig with a Smithy” (Elan Valley, Mid–Wales.) Luckily, Sue Perfect was able to throw some light on all this, for Marion C. Robison was a Birmingham–based artist who lived in the same area of the city the whole time that Joyce was there. Sue and her husband (like Jane Dew), are convinced that this painting is indeed by Joyce, and believe that Joyce painted it on a canvas given to her by Marion C. Robison, whom she very probably knew in Birmingham. The Smithy is almost certainly one of two such in the Aberdovey area.
An example of Joyce’s flower paintings, signed and dated 1959, is shown in Fig.26. Titled simply “Vase of Flowers,” the painting was sold by Arcadja Auctions in 2009, and its present whereabouts are not known. Jane Dew believes that this painting’s original title, of which she has a record from when it was previously sold in 1990, was “Gladioli, Carnations and Scabious, in a Vase.”
Our next painting is a still–life by Joyce (Fig.27) now in the possession of artist Tony Sawbridge. He and Joyce were great friends in her Birmingham days. Moving in the same artistic circles – both frequently exhibited at the Royal Birmingham Society of Art – they agreed to swap paintings with each other, which is how this painting came into Tony’s possession. He told me that they rather lost contact with each other when Joyce retired from the Education Department at Birmingham University, and moved to Wales, though he did pay several visits to her Arts & Crafts Café in Aberdovey.
Finally we have two paintings owned by Barbara Chisholm. The first is another landscape (Fig.28), probably in the Cae Newydd area, and painted in about 1965. Joyce gave this picture to Barbara for her eighteenth birthday. The second – altogether different from anything seen so far – is a painting (“Dreams”) of a couple in an armchair (Fig.29). It is signed and dated 1960 in the bottom left hand corner. The young woman is thought to be Joyce’s daughter, Marianne, but it is not clear who the young man was.
It only remains for us to look at some of Joyce’s “lesser works”, a delightful series of Christmas cards which she produced year on year for her friends. Four are shown here as Figs.30a (1962), 30b (1963), 30c (1968) and 30d (1970). Unfortunately, three of these are intended to be displayed folded over, like a tent, so it is difficult to show them effectively here, but the detail in all is clear enough even when flattened out. Cae Newydd and Wycliffe Road put in an appearance, along with Joyce’s famous vans and her pet cats. The double bass, incidentally, is John Goodborn’s (Joyce’s son), shown in Fig.30b in his Land Rover.
Finally, the rather neat little picture shown in Fig.31 was done by Joyce when she and Marianne left Birmingham for Aberdovey for good. It was a farewell from herself, Marianne and their cats to Jane’s parents. What I particularly like about it is Joyce’s skilful caricature of herself – seen also in Fig.30c – both making me smile when I think of Fig.2a & 2b and John Perfect’s description of her as a Margaret Rutherford–ish “woman of ample proportions.”
Notes
Note 1: Jos Coumans, The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: an Updated Bibliography (2010), #76.
Note 2: The Registers of the Birmingham School of Arts & Crafts are now housed in the Arts, Design & Media Archives at Birmingham City University (formerly Birmingham Polytechnic), and my thanks are due to Fiona Waterhouse, Research Assistant there, for giving me a guided tour of them. The Registers, which, oddly enough, mostly spell her name as Elinor, give her address at the time of her attendance. That she was still living with her family throughout is confirmed by the Electoral Registers of 1930 and 1935.
Note 3a: A useful biography of him can be found in Lawrence William Wallis, Leonard Jay: Master Printer–Craftsman, first Head of the Birmingham School of Printing 1925–1953: an Appraisal (London, 1963). Jay’s papers are housed in the Leonard Jay Collection at the Cadbury Research Library at the University of Birmingham, and there is an online catalogue of them, as well as a typed paper version by Christine L. Penney, Catalogue of the Leonard Jay Collection (University of Birmingham Library, 1988.) The collection had been assembled by a good friend of Jay’s, Arnold Yates, with the assistance of Jay himself, and it was bought by the University of Birmingham Library in 1987, with the aid of a grant from the Victoria & Albert Museum.
Note 3b: A list of the earlier publications can be found in Bibliography – City of Birmingham School of Printing, which is a Catalogue of Books produced between 1926 and 1935, with an introduction by Leonard Jay (undated, but presumably published in 1935/36.) It lists 82 works. A full listing of the 192 publications produced between 1926 and 1953 can be found in L.W. Wallis’s book, cited in note (3a) above. There are copies of all 192 in Birmingham University Library.
Note 3c: Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam of Naishapur, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia: Translated into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald (1928), not decorated / illustrated, (Coumans #94.) The text is from FitzGerald’s first edition.
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: translated into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald (1931), illustrated by Charles Meacham (Coumans #81.) It is “Dedicated to Ambrose George Potter the English Omarian Enthusiast.” The text is again from FitzGerald’s first edition.
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: translated into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald (1937), decorated by Catherine Gebhard (Coumans #71.) This too is “Dedicated to Ambrose George Potter the English Omarian Enthusiast” and the text is again from FitzGerald’s first edition.
Note 4a: A fascinating and detailed account can be found in Benjamin Walker’s booklet The Resting Places of the Buried Remains of John Baskerville, the Thrice–buried Printer (Birmingham School of Printing, 1944). I have omitted here the somewhat gruesome details of the exhibition of Baskerville’s remains between their removal from his grave in 1821 and their subsequent (clandestine!) interment in Christ Church in 1829.
Note 4b: The story of the petition was covered on the front pages of The Birmingham Post on 8th March 1963 and 2nd April 1963, but was also of sufficient national interest to be reported in The Times on the 9th March 1963 (p.6, col.1) and 13th March 1963 (p.5, col.1).
Note 4c: There is a copy of it in the National Portrait Gallery in London, and it is this which is pictured in Walker, as note 4a, facing p.8.
Note 5: Actually, this was the First Series. A Second Series was started, and presumably it too was intended to consist of twelve booklets, but it seems that only two were actually published: no.1. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, A Selection: Sonnets from the Portuguese (1935) and no.2. William Bennett, Doctor Samuel Johnson and the Ladies of the Lichfield Amicable Society 1775 (1935). The latter had originally been published in the previous year by the Birmingham School of Printing as part of their series titled Johnsoniana: Dr. Samuel Johnson & his friends, along with Bennett’s booklet on Richard Greene mentioned above. Why the second series ‘fizzled out’ in 1935 is not clear, but it may have had something to do with the death of Frank Edwin Baylis in that year.
Note 6: See The Times, 28th July 1934, p.4 col.6. The novel being centred on Glastonbury, the case attracted some attention by the local press. A lengthy account can be found on the front page of The Wells Journal, 3rd August 1934, for example.
Note 7a: Albert Garrett, A History of British Wood Engraving (1978), pp.146, 155–8, 232 & 374; James Hamilton, Wood Engraving and the Woodcut in Britain c.1890–1990 (1994), pp.15 & 121–2; Malcolm Yorke, Eric Gill – Man of Flesh and Spirit (2000 ed), pp.167 & 169.
Note 7b: This is stated on the front inside flap of the dust–jacket of the 1938 edition.
Note 7c: Online quarterly birth records & census returns for 1881, 1891, 1901 & 1911 place him in London, as do electoral registers for 1925, 1935, 1936, 1937 & 1939. The 1921 census return is not yet online, unfortunately.
Note 7d: Beedham engraved two of the illustrations (the rest were done by Gill) in God and the Dragon: a Book of Rhymes, by H.D.C.P (Douglas Pepler), self–published at Ditchling in 1917. (St Dominic’s Press was set up in 1921, but Pepler apparently had his own hand–press.)
Note 7e: This information comes from Joe Cribb, whose father, Joseph, worked with Gill from 1906 until the artist’s death in 1940: “In my father’s memoir of the Guild he says that Beedham worked at the Crank (Gill’s home on Ditchling Common) in the early 1920s. But nothing else. It is unclear whether he was an occasional visitor or local resident at the time.” (Personal email.)
Note 7f: Beedham engraved the frontispiece for Letters of a Portuguese Nun, published by Francis Walterson of Talybont Dyffryn, North Wales in 1929. The frontispiece was designed by Joanna Gill, the youngest daughter of Eric Gill.
He also engraved illustrations for two publications of the Gregynog Press, Eros and Psyche (1935) and The History of St Louis (1937). As indicated in note 7c above, Beedham was actually living in London in both 1935 and 1937.
Note 8: It would appear that S. Malcolm Kirk was the joint translator, with G. Prerauer, from French to English, of D.E. Inghelbrecht’s book The Conductor’s World, published, like Operation Panpipes, by Peter Nevill, in 1953. So far as I am aware, this is the only other published work in which Kirk was involved.
Acknowledgements
In addition to thanking the people named in the body of the above article, I must first and foremost thank Sandra Mason and Bill Martin for handling the initial correspondence with the Birmingham and Midland Institute, Birmingham City University Library and the Cadbury Research Library at the University of Birmingham, Edgbaston Campus. It was they, too, who made the initial contacts with Sylvia Goodborn, John & Sue Perfect, and Jane Dew, and they too who did the initial spadework with the Aberdovey / Aberdyfi Art Society. I must also thank the many staff members of the three Birmingham libraries just mentioned, as well as those at the British Library.
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June 6th, 2017 - Frankfurt, Germany
The time has come to bring our grand European Adventure to an end. it is befitting that it would be grey and rainy on this morning in Germany. It is as if the Country itself is sad that we are leaving. We make our rounds through the home that we rented in the small town of Rossdorf, we close all the windows, empty the trash and say farewell to Gretchen, the 70 year old tortoise that lives in the back yard. We load our things into the back of our trusty little min-van, a Ford Galaxy, that we picked up about 3 weeks ago at Ciampino Airport in Rome. We close and lock the door to the house and drop the keys in the Post Box as requested and we are off at about 9:00 am to head to the airport in Frankfurt.
The traffic around Frankfurt is a bit heavy. The GPS continually re-routes us trying to help us beat the traffic tie-ups. The trip that ordinarily should have takes us about 30 minutes takes about 40 minutes. At 9:00 am we are on the tail-end of the morning commute. Frankfurt is a very large and sprawling airport - seemingly built under the roof of one huge terminal. In spite of its size, airplanes still often must park on the tarmac and have buses retrieve the passengers. We are flying on Lufthansa on the way home, which departs from Terminal 1, but the rental car return is near Terminal 2. We will have to take the bus to Terminal 1. We make our way to the Hertz rental car return, and fortunately, it is not that busy there. The attendant points us to a space where we can park the car - a saucy lass from England is working the returns today. She quickly hands me a receipt after inspecting the car and we are off and on our way.
Here is an interesting aside - well interesting to me, but the rest of you are free to skip this paragraph. I look at the receipt and see that we drove a whopping 4,766 kilometers - for the unconverted in the USA - that’s over 2,955 miles. I am shocked, I had no idea we had driven that much. To make the math simple - if I assume we averaged 60 miles/hour that means we spent a total of 49 hours of our time in Europe driving from point “a” to point “b”. We were in Europe for a total of 27 days - if we further assume that 16 hours of each day (24 hrs / 16 awake hrs) that’s 66% of the day that we are awake and can be spent doing fun stuff. That means we had a total of (27 days x 24 hr/day x .66) 428 hours available to us for fun stuff and we spent 49 hours of them driving or a little over 10%. I decide that wasn’t a bad trade-off when I consider all the neat places we got to go and the fact that a lot of those driving moments will be unforgettable - like cheating death by driving along the Amalfi Coast and cruising through a sea of pedestrians in Bellagio. Those moments are priceless. I’m sorry I had to turn this into a math problem, but that’s just the way my strange mind works. The reason I went through all of this is because some people think that simply relying on trains or flying from point “a” to “b” is the way to go. The disadvantage to that of course is that when you get to point “b” you’re sort of stuck - sure you can take cabs or buses but if you factor in the “hassle factor” knowing us, we would have missed a lot of the really special places we got to see because we were able to simply hop in the car and go. There is also the fact that when you drive, you are setting your own itinerary and schedule - if we want to make a side trip to Volterra or Porto Venere, we can and were are certainly happy we didn’t miss these places. So, if you are a little adventurous, my recommendation is to go ahead and rent a car. It is not that tough to drive in Italy or Germany.
A little about our trusty little mini-van. When I was making plans for the trip, I had a special offer from Avis to rent a nice E class or CL class Mercedes sedan for our trip. I was all ready to go for it. I had visions of us screaming down the Autobahn at some un-Godly speed, flashing our headlights at everything in our way, but then I looked at the trunk capacity in these cars. I even suggested that everyone watch Rick Steves video on how to pack lightly for a trip to Europe. Sure we only need 1 pair of shoes and 3 changes of clothes all stuffed into a soft sided backpack. If we could all do that, we could easily fit luggage for 4 passengers in the trunk of the Benz. if your have read any of my other posts (#rick-steves-is-an-idiot) you know by now that most of the people on our little trip elected not to follow Rick’s sage advice. So I went from looking at Autobahn pavement burners to looking at soccer-mom mini-vans. This is how we ended up in the Ford Galaxy. Now after having driven it over 2,900 miles, I have to say that I have no regrets at all. Our little 4-cylinder, diesel engined van had plenty of pep and allowed us to cruise at (Elisa and Carolyn - don’t read this part) over 100 mph with ease on the Autobahns in Germany all while getting great fuel economy. The driver’s and co-pilot seats were very comfy and I never had a sore back from a long days drive. The rear seats were equally comfy - so comfy that our rear seat passengers converted some of those “awake hours” to “sleeping hours”, but then there is Trent, he starts to nod off when he simply lifts the handle to open the car door. Let’s not forget to mention the ample amount of cargo capacity in this little van. With the 3rd row seats folded totally flat we had enough room (though just barely) to accommodate Carolyn’s suitcase that we affectionately named Moby, leaving just enough room to spare for 3 other suitcases. As the trip went on, it did seem as if the number of pieces of luggage was beginning to multiply. Either there was some suitcase hanky-panky was going on back there, or it may have simply been due to the many shopping sprees Carolyn and Elisa would embark upon. Also, there was a large retractable cover that would conceal all our goodies out of sight when we parked. If I had one complaint about the Ford Galaxy, it is that the turning radius on that little mini-van was pretty horrible. Many a time what should have been a simple 3-point u-turn on street would turn into a 9-point turn. The turning radius of the car when coupled with the narrow streets we encountered, made for a lot of hand-over-hand turning of the steering wheel. All things considered, I would highly recommend a diesel Ford Galaxy to anyone that needs a comfy cruiser for 4 people and their luggage.
Reflections - Elisa:
I asked Elisa to comment on what she felt were some of her most memorable moments on this trip. The first thing that came to her mind had to do with the main reason for our trip. We had been invited to attend the wedding of her cousin Alessio. They were getting married in the same Church in the small Tuscan hill town of Suvereto where her parents got married in 1955. Elisa had a faded photograph of her parents on that wedding day in 1955 and was always surprised to see how many people seemed to be on the steps of the church as her parents were emerging after saying their vows. Elisa had always wondered who were all those people and why were they all there. Then here we were on the steps of that same church in 2017 some 62 years later and her questions would be answered. When we exited the church after Alessio and his bride Dana had finished taking their vows, we saw that the entire town had convened on the steps of the church and on the plaza in front of the church. There was a band playing music and lots of rice being thrown. Many of the people knew Alessio, but many did not - it is just what Italians do - they celebrate the important things in life. All those people were out there and we were bathed in joy their joy as we stepped out into the sun. Elisa now understood what it was that was happening in that faded photograph back taken back in 1955 and she was filled with tearful emotion. As she milled about the towns people, she actually met a woman that was standing on those steps on that very day back in 1955 and she was there celebrating the wedding of Elisa’s parents just as she was on this day in 2017, celebrating another marriage. It was clearly very emotional for Elisa.
Elisa and I have been to Italy and other parts of Europe many times. We have usually traveled with our kids or kid and their friends and each of those trips have been special to us, but Elisa really believes that this was our very best trip (so far). Traveling with my brother Trent and his wife Carolyn made it special. Even though we had been to many of the places we took Trent and Carolyn to before, re-experiencing them again with and through them made it more special for us. Like, we usually do when we travel to Italy, we visit a lot of Elisa’s relatives and by introducing Trent and Carolyn to all of them they are quickly embraced in true Italian culture, which revolves first around family and secondly around food. There were lots of both to go around.
Another highlight of this trip for Elisa is our stay in the tiny town of Grainau in the German Alps near Garmisch-Partinkirchen. We stayed at a vacation rental called Ferienwohnung-Zugspitze and our hostess Carolin did such a fine job on the accommodations and God lent a helping hand by placing the majestic Zugspitze mountain right in the backyard of our apartment. We were there for only 3 nights and we could have spent several more. It was so relaxing there. There are a number of things we would have liked to have seen but we missed - Bertchesgaden and the Eagles Nest. We would have like to have spent a day in Munich. We would have like to pay our respects at Dachau. This gives us a reason for another trip.
Lastly for Elisa, the trip was special because she was able to reconnect with her long lost high school friend Terri Rooney and meet her terrific husband Gary. Although the 2 hadn’t seen each other for over 30 years the friendship picked up right where it left off. We also got to make a great new friend in Gary, her husband of 25 years. He is a terrific guy and the only person I’ve gotten to know that has more karaoke stuff that Elisa and I have - a lot more.
Reflections - Rex
For me, I agree with Elisa that traveling with Trent and Carolyn made the trip a lot more fun, They hadn’t been to Europe before and It was great fun sharing with them some of the many things we had seen and done before. By doing it with them, we would learn so much in the process as well. The best thing about this trip is that there is so much we did not get to cram into our schedule - such as - trip up the Italian and French Rivera. We love Santa Margherita and Porto Fino. We didn’t get to take in San Tropez or Nice or Monaco. We didn’t get to venture into Switzerland. We missed Paris, the Bordeaux region and we also missed London, Wales, Scotland and Ireland. All of these could make up a nice itinerary for another trip some day.
Another highlight for me, was the different personalized tours that we took. Usually, Elisa and I would read up on a location, take information from guidebooks and then explore on our own. Our experience with Roberta in Rome has convinced us that it is well worth the extra money to find a knowledgeable and friendly guide that speaks English well. We really think it is worth the extra money to arrange for a private tour. By doing this, you and the guide can interact and she can tailor the tour to what it is that you are most interested in.
Driving in Italy - The Amalfi Coast - I never tire of seeing it and driving it. Yes the roads are narrow, the cliffs steep and the Italian drivers all think they drive Formula 1, but I am glad we got to go there again. Once again, we had great accommodations there with great views. Our dinner at La Tagliata was also a real highlight for me and if I could only name a few of my most favorite things about the trip, La Tagliata would have to be on the list. When it comes to driving, I will never forget driving into the town of Bellagio and having to wedge our car into that tiny street with pedestrians inches from our car. That was unforgettable and now that it is over, I look back on it and find it to be fun and exciting, while at the time, it may have seemed a little terrifying.
Lastly for me, I would have to put our cooking lesson with Chef Sylvia on the list. It didn’t hurt that our menu was featuring Italian Mussels that are harvested right here in La Spezia and I love mussels. But Chef Sylvia was funny and friendly and we really appreciated her opening her kitchen up to us. Even though her staff was preparing for another busy day of serving lunch to locals and tourists that flock to this Michelin rated restaurant, they made us all feel like this day and this kitchen, had been set aside just for us to learn a few of Chef Sylvia’s favorite recipes. The fact that we would get to walk the open air market with her Husband Alessandro, and shop for some of the ingredients we would use in our cooking was also a very nice touch.
I do have to cram one more highlight in here - our trek to find Carolyn’s ancestral roots was also very fun. I am so happy that we not only found the little town of Lugliano, but that we got to find a living relative our her Great-Grandfather. It was another emotionally unforgettable experience.
Closing out the trip…. Elisa and I spent spend a total of 27 days there, 23 of which were with Trent and Carolyn. We all got along well and had a great time. With all the neat places we weren’t able to fit into the busy itinerary we will surely be traveling together again at some point. A sad fact is that we have more days behind us than we have ahead of us - so we have to do it while we can. And when we do - I’ll try to write about it so that maybe I can inspire some of you to remember, that our lives are not only about working and making money - it is also about experiencing the world we live in and getting to know and help our fellow passengers on this journey we call life.
That’s all for now.
Rex
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Reconnecting with nature at the Four Seasons Costa Rica
This is Luxury Travel spent one week at the Four Seasons Costa Rica. It was a week of adventure and pure relaxation. It is the perfect place for families or group of friends wanting to connect with nature. Read on for my review and practical tips.
Getting to the Four Seasons Costa Rica at Peninsula Papagayo
There are 2 options to arrive at the Four Seasons Peninsula Papagayo:
You can fly to either Liberia or San Jose. San Jose has more flights options, but it is at least a 4-hour drive. We arrived in San Jose and rented a car. The road is excellent and easy but can be slow at a time as some sections have only one lane. The drive is not particularly scenic, but pleasant enough.
On the way back, I flew out of Liberia Airport. It is only 40 minutes away from the Four Seasons, so it was a much better use of my time.
If you have booked a residence at the Four Seasons, you will have a full kitchen and might need to stock up on groceries. There is a Walmart in Liberia. It is about 1 hour from the Four Seasons, so it is best to do it on the way.
Checking in at the Four Seasons Papagayo
Our check-in was a bit of a disaster. But don’t stop that from going to the Four Seasons Costa Rica because the rest of our stay was fantastic! Feel free to skip to the next section if you want to avoid my (too long) rant about our check-in mishap.
The entrance of the Papagayo Peninsula is stunning with palm trees and dramatic cliffs views at every corner. We were excited to see a few coatis by the side of the road.
We arrived at 11 am and were told that the people previously in our room had already checked out. Our room would be ready at around 12:00.
We asked them to put our groceries in the fridge and went for a walk.
I call the reception at 12:00, and I am told the room is not ready yet. At 12:45, I call again. I talk to a different person who tells me that our room won’t be ready for at least 2 hours as the previous guests just checked out a few minutes ago. By this time, I am confused as we were told differently before and would have changed into our swimming suits to enjoy the pool if we had known we had 4 hours to wait instead of one hour. The receptionist responded in a curt way that anyway check-in is at 3 pm and that I must have misunderstood.
At 3 pm I get a call that our room is ready. They drive us to a room in building 62. The bell boy tells us he has already put our groceries in the fridge.
I realize that my room key is for a different room in building 60. So, I suspect that they gave our original room to someone else, and that might be why we had to wait much longer than expected. Our groceries where nowhere to be found. They brought them after 20 minutes. They were warm, and we had to discard some of the food. All in all, not the kind of check-in we would expect from a Four Seasons hotel.
Our check out was a bit chaotic as well. I was walking back to our room to get a quick lunch before departure when I met a lady leaving our room. She thought we had already checked out and had emptied the fridge. I found the groceries getting warm again on the kitchen counter. I am sure those isolated incidents, but I do think some frustration could have been avoided by better communication between the staff.
The resort at the Four Seasons Papagayo Costa Rica
The Four Seasons resort is located at the tip of the Papagayo Peninsula. It is a stunning piece of land covered with tropical rain forest. It felt like staying in a national park, and we often encountered wildlife just steps from our room: coatis, monkeys, and iguanas were all casually seen around the place.
The central point of the resort is around the reception area. There you find the 4 swimming pools, the restaurants, the spa, and the 2 beaches. One beach is facing the Papagayo Bay, and the other one is facing the Pacific Ocean. Both beaches are beautiful and great for swimming. The beach on the Pacific side also enjoys a beautiful sunset.
The hotel has usual bedrooms but also residences. Boasting 2 to four bedrooms, they have a kitchen and are much more spacious than standard rooms. They are great for families. We stayed in a three bedrooms residence, and you can read my review below.
Upon arrival, I was a bit disappointed by the old looking pools and buildings. The pools look very 80s and are quite shallow. The residences don’t really have a sea view or the wow factor of some of the other Four Seasons residences. It took me a few days to really appreciate the spirit of the Four Seasons Costa Rica. They built this resort to be in true communion with nature. This place has not been designed for Instagram.
Review of the Pacific 3-bedroom residence at Costa Rica Papagayo in Costa Rica
The 3 bedrooms residences are perfect for a family or a group of friends traveling together. The rooms are located near the reception amongst the canopy trees by the entrance of the resort. The residences are spacious and great for entertainment and relaxation.
The interior of the rooms is inspired by natural beauty. The color scheme of the rooms is in contrast with the surrounding scenery. The lighting of the rooms is so well-balanced. The wooden furniture makes the room eco-friendlier and provides a partial indoor-outdoor experience. All the windows and doors have a screen for mosquitos, which is excellent if you like sleeping with your windows open with the sound of the waves lulling you to sleep.
From some residences, you can enjoy the beauty of the Pacific Ocean from your room windows. My room didn’t have much of a sea view, but I could still enjoy the sound of the waves. At first, I found the obstructed view frustrating. What is the point of coming for a beach holiday if you can’t even see the sea, right? I quickly changed my mind. Preserving the trees and building in communion with nature is what makes this resort truly special. You can barely see the buildings from the beach, and it gives the feeling of being in the middle of nature.
TIP: If having a sea view is essential to you, ask for a residence with sea view. Many residences’ views are obstructed by trees, but some do have a sea view. In general, Residences on the third floor have a better view. There are no elevators in the residence building, so if you have mobility issues, you will be happier on a lower level.
Our residence had 3 bedrooms. They were all comfortable with large bathrooms and dressing area. It felt very spacious for 6 people. The insulation is excellent as we didn’t hear the downstairs neighbors for the whole week. We also had a semi-outdoor terrace with a coffee table as well as a large living room with a fully equipped kitchen.
TIP: Tap water at the resort is 100% drinkable, the fridge had an extra filter for purified cold water so no need to use plastic bottles.
It is a great place to entertain, and it had a Bose speaker for music. There is also a room with a washing machine and a dryer which is convenient if you are on a long trip or to dry swimming suits after a day at the beach.
We were in building 60, which is the closest to the reception. On the one hand, it was great to be so close to the spa, gym, and pools. On the other hand, it could be noisy at some times of the day. We could hear the music from the gym spinning class early morning, staff cleaning the Gym at 3 am or the music from a wedding reception at night. Fortunately, they stopped all the music at 10 pm.
What to do at the Four Seasons Papagayo
The Peninsula Papagayo is a great place to reconnect with nature, and most of the activities reflect that. There is so much to do at Peninsula Papagayo and the seven nights we spent there almost felt too short. Make sure you book a long enough stay.
The Four Seasons has a fantastic program of complementary activities. It is one of the best programs I have ever seen in a hotel, so take advantage of it.
TIP: Book the activities as soon as you arrive as the events are often fully booked. We could not do activities for the first day and a half after our arrival as everything was full. We were, however, able to book everything we wanted for the rest of the week.
Even if an activity is full, it is worth showing up. We learned through the week that most people book and don’t show up. We were often the only participants to activities that had been booked by 8 or 10 people… Please, if you can’t make it to an activity, cancel so that other guests can enjoy the activity.
Golfing at Papagayo Peninsula and the Trail of the Giants tour
The golf course is truly spectacular, and it is no surprise that so many people come to the Four Seasons Papagayo to golf.
If you do not golf, the tour Trails of the Giants is a great way to see the golf course and encounter wildlife.
We were given golf carts and went on to explore the most scenic parts of the domain.
It lasted about 90 minutes and was a great introduction to the Peninsula and its natural beauty. Our guide explained the fauna and flora, and we saw coatis, monkeys, and many birds. This is a great tour to do with kids
Birdwatching at the Four Seasons Papagayo
The bird watching tour is an easy walk in a beautiful forest. Our guide for the day brought binoculars and had a fantastic eye to spot birds. From the smallest Colibri to the largest eagles, we saw countless species of birds. We also watched a family of monkeys playing in the trees and beehives in activity.
We finished the tour by a visit to the nature center, where we learned plenty of cool facts from the center manager. Did you know that some birds use spider webs to tie their nests? Like the Trail of the Giants tour, the nature center visit is an excellent activity to do with kids.
Mangrove tour at the Four Seasons Papagayo
We took a car to Nacascolo Beach and went for a 90-minute walk to the mangroves behind it. Our guide was great at explaining the geography of the land. We learned a lot about plants and animals’ behaviors. I love seeing all the crabs in the mangrove carefully watching us. Don’t miss this tour. The walk is flat and easy
TIP: Put some mosquito repellent on. There were no mosquitoes in the four seasons resort, but the mangrove area had many mosquitos
Kayak tours at the Four Seasons Papagayo
Kayaking is a great way to see the Peninsula and all the secret beaches around. We did the kayak tour to Nacascolo beach. It is the most extended kayak tour, and it was a good workout. We paddled for about 40 minutes each way. It was over 5 kilometers of paddling! My arms felt very much alive by the end of it. Nacascolo is a very nice-looking beach that is full of wildlife. We had sore arms the next day, but it was definitely worth it.
TIP: If you want a shorter kayak tour, try the Jicaro beach tour. It is the beach before Nacascolo, and it covers about half the distance.
Snorkeling expedition at the Four Seasons Papagayo
I had booked the snorkeling excursion for Monday, but somehow the schedule of activities changed from week to week, and the snorkeling tour had been canceled. True to its fantastic service reputation, the concierge told me not to worry that they would organize a private snorkeling tour for me. I was most impressed. We snorkeled right off Playa Blanca to the little rocks on the right side of the beach. There were plenty of fishes and even a nurse shark at about 2 meters depth. I also found a scorpionfish. Not bad for 60 minutes of snorkeling right of the beach!
Rhum and chocolate Tasting and Mixology
Every day, the Four Seasons offers a tasting class. From rhum and chocolate to mixology or infused rhum, the choice is yours. Those classes are entertaining but also very different from the other activities at the Four Seasons.
Mixology is outstanding if you want to learn to make cocktails in a fun and relaxed way. We made a Mojito and a mango margarita. It was also a great way to meet other guests.
Rhum and chocolate tasting was a lot more serious. This workshop gave us plenty of information about the history or Rhum, Rhum making, … And of course, we got to taste four different rums that had been paired with chocolate.
Exercising at the Gym and Yoga
Yoga is a great way to start a day at the resort. I did the gentle yoga class and really enjoyed it. The only downside for me is that the yoga room was indoor without much of a view and was too cold for my taste. The teacher had a gentle yoga flow going. We were the only 2 participants, so it was very relaxing. The Four Seasons has a great yoga and exercise schedule with 3 to 4 classes to choose from every day. There was a fee of 25 USD per course.
A great gym is also available for the fitness freaks who never compromise their lifestyles (yes, even on vacation). And on this trip there was a lot of those, as the gym was often busy.
Relaxing at the Spa
In most Four Seasons, the spa is fantastic. The Four Seasons Papagayo Costa Rica did not disappoint. I did a rainforest massage, and it was incredibly soothing. Softness was the theme of the day. My therapist had the softest hands ever. The bathrobe and massage bed cover felt like silk. Don’t miss it if you like being pampered.
TIP: The spa has a beachfront hot and cold plunge pool and a steam room that you can access even if you are not doing a treatment. I ended up going almost every day as I found it so relaxing.
Diving from the Four Seasons Papagayo
The water around the Papagayo Peninsula is teeming with life. If you are a certified diver, don’t miss your chance to dive up there. From manta rays, bull sharks, white tip sharks, nurse sharks and plenty of nudibranchs, the diving is incredible. Diving and water activities are provided by outside companies. We booked directly with Rock Divers Costa Rica and had a great day out on the water. You can read the full review of our diving adventure here.
Sustainability at the Four Seasons
The Four Seasons Costa Rica has a healthy sustainability initiative going on. We could see in the room that they only use glass bottles and that no plastic straws are available. But the Four Seasons also does a lot behind the scenes. The hotel has a solid waste and electricity management program. Furthermore, all employees are trained in sustainable practices.
The Papagayo Peninsula has committed to keeping 70 percent of the land untouched to protect biodiversity and have a protection program for animals and trees in place
When to go to Papagayo Four Seasons Costa Rica?
The Guanacaste state, where the Four Seasons is located, is protected by volcanoes and therefore enjoys a microclimate with less rain and hurricanes than the East coast of Costa Rica.
We went there mid-August, which is the rainy season (that many trendy hotels now call the “green” season). The rainy season didn’t disturb us much. It rained mainly at night. We experienced a total of 3 to 4 hours of rain during the day over the whole week.
Conclusion
Four Seasons is probably the best hotel in Costa Rica. The hotel has been providing excellent service to its customers for over a decade. The hotel offers a classy ambiance, cozy rooms, delicious food, spa, fantastic nature activities, and beautiful beach experience
People looking for the nightlife of Instagramable hotel won’t be happy at the Four Seasons Papagayo in Costa Rica. But if you are a nature lover, Four Seasons should be next on your bucket list. Nature, stunning location, and fantastic Four Seasons service all complement each other to offer you the vacation of a lifetime.
Happy Holidays!
The post Reconnecting with nature at the Four Seasons Costa Rica appeared first on Luxury travel Inspiration.
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As I check out of a hotel, various excuses race through my head for not tipping the housekeeper. I’m in a big rush. I don’t have cash. Will the maid who folded my clothes get the money? Why can’t I just add a gratuity to the credit-card bill and expense it?
About 70 percent of hotel guests go through the same mental exercise and end up not leaving a tip. A waiter would have to spit in your soup, and you would have to see him do it, to stiff him. Housekeepers are stiffed every day. I’ve heard every reason why guests treat hotel workers so differently than other service workers, but I’ve not heard a good one.
I have more than a passing interest in the subject. For 10 years, my grandmother, Nellie O’Connor McCreary, was a maid at the Hotel Washington, now the W Hotel. If you lean over the railing of its rooftop bar after a drink or two, you’d swear you could see the Oval Office.
She would never see that bar, and I would never have seen below stairs, if it weren’t for living with her in a two-bedroom bungalow during summers when I was interning in Washington, D.C. It was a perfect situation: I didn’t always get along with my mother, and she didn’t always get along with her daughter, but we got along perfectly well with each other. Besides that, the room was free. So were the stories.
One in particular left an enduring impression. At one of our weekly dinners after work at Reeve’s Bakery near the hotel, my grandmother pulled out some crisp 10s, a tip she’d received after a week’s stay from Clare Boothe Luce, the author, ambassador, and congresswoman, and a regular guest until she moved to the Watergate when it was a building, not a metaphor, in the mid-1970s.
The feminist author of The Women treated my grandmother, a fellow Catholic and a Roosevelt admirer, like an Irish maid from central casting climbing the housekeeping ladder rather than someone making beds for minimum wage. Despite the misconception, and Luce’s admiration for Nixon, they got along.
Luce was opposed to freeloaders and thought others should tip like her. She had an idea: have each maid leave a note on a nice card next to the mint on the pillow, hoping the stay had been pleasant, and wait for the tips to pour in. Luce then jotted down a note Nellie should deliver to management, co-signed by her “colleagues,” asking for a line to be added to the bill for a gratuity, like the one that exists for waiters.
The comparison to waiters was apt; they earn a mean annual wage of about $30,000, and housekeepers, about $25,000. To make her point, the patrician playwright reenacted her daily encounter with room service. The floor waiter (usually a he) rolls a breakfast cart into the room, removes the silver dome, and then dawdles while your poached eggs congeal—unfolding the napkin with a flourish, taking the paper hat off the orange juice, refolding the napkin—to give you time to add a gratuity on top of the automatic one of 18 percent.
He then goes off, leaving behind a mess. On the same principle that no one washes a rented car, few guests clean up after eating. So the housekeeper (it’s usually a she) will stack up the dishes, put the cart in the hallway, clean up the toast crumbs, and then proceed to the rest of her work of stripping the beds, picking up the supernumerary pillows on the floor, wiping the butter stains off the remote, and leaving the bathroom, now with coffee spills, gleaming. Not to begrudge waiters their tips, but why does he get two lines on the bill and the housekeeper gets none?
My grandmother’s reenactment of the reenactment didn’t mean she would do anything about it. You might as well have asked her to scale the Washington Monument and write an essay about it. But her admiration for Luce was less a response to her grand plan than to the attention paid. The hotel job wasn’t necessarily a step down from her prior employment, but it was a world apart from working as a nurse’s aide for 20 years at St. Elizabeth’s, a federal psychiatric hospital overlooking the city. She became invisible, interacting primarily with a mop. There was no one to pull up for a dance, no one to get to sit down, no one much at all. The first rule of Housekeeping for Dummies is, Do not speak to a guest unless spoken to first.
It would take decades before someone else would look at a housekeeper and see a wrong to be righted. Maria Shriver, the founder of A Woman’s Nation, wasn’t inspired by a family member scouring bathtubs but by the sight of housekeepers—mostly minority, many immigrants—working like borrowed mules with an 80-mile or more commute in the several hotels she stayed in after separating from Arnold Schwarzenegger in 2014. There were no Cinderella stories where a maid on the eighth floor was invited to train for a job on the first. It’s a job where a girl could use a tip.
The former first lady of California got a meeting with Arne Sorenson, the CEO of Marriott, the largest hotel chain in the world, and persuaded him to promote tipping with a catchy Hollywood name, “The Envelope Please.” Marriott placed packets in 160,000 rooms with space for the housekeeper to write a message next to the hotel’s about how “our caring attendant’s hard work is many times overlooked.”
The effort could be filed under No good deed goes unpunished, a phrase, incidentally, perhaps coined by the playwright Luce. Instead of money, the envelopes were stuffed with notes asking why a multibillion-dollar corporation didn’t pay its help a living wage, memorialized in this Fortune headline: “Marriott to Hotel Guests: Please Pay Our Maids for Us.”
That’s why the second-largest chain would barely touch the subject. The Hilton spokesman Nigel Glennie told me that the Marriott experience was the first thing he was warned about when he joined the company. “The custom and practice of tipping is very local,” he said, “and with Hiltons in 113 countries and territories” there would be no way to standardize it. But, he added, “there’s nothing stopping you or me from leaving a gratuity beside the bed.”
But there is something stopping people, and the hospitality industry knows it. Why else do hotels already have a line for waiters and, at their resort properties, have some added one for housekeeping?
Props to Marriott for effort, but now, like other hotels, it’s going in the opposite direction. The industry has launched a program purporting to save the environment; it has the perhaps not wholly incidental benefit of allowing hotels to slash their spending on housekeeping, their largest labor cost. First, they enticed guests to save the environment with a “green” option, whereby guests could opt to not have their sheets laundered every day. With guests softened up, hotels shifted to a purely self-serving marketing gambit, still with “green” in its name, offering reward points or other perks for giving up housekeeping altogether. It cost the industry virtually nothing. Housekeepers, though, wound up with an estimated 350 fewer full-time jobs, 700,000 fewer hours, and rooms left untended for as long as three days to shovel out.
Enter Unite Here, the largest hospitality-workers union in the country. It hopes for tips and respect for all of its 270,000 workers but gave up counting on that, or a living wage, in 2018. With the motto “One job should be enough,” workers embarked on the largest multi-city strike in history, walking out of 23 properties in eight cities, from the St. Francis in San Francisco to the Ritz-Carlton in Boston.
It was a big risk for the union: It’s always harder to keep workers without a paycheck striking than it is for management filling in for them to make beds badly. One of the tropes that keeps maids down is that everyone can do housework, they just don’t want to.
In a matter of weeks, Marriott offered varied settlements, on average about $4 an hour over four years, as well as more full-time jobs with predictable shifts. For a moment, housekeeping gained a priceless degree of public visibility and appreciation, by way of wet towels, funky smells, angry guests, and canceled conventions. It is the industry’s lowest-paid employees who, one day at a time, make a hotel a home.
In 1980, my grandmother retired for a second time, moving to a house in Pennsylvania near my parents. Positions reversed, she visited me (and her great-granddaughter) and only asked that I keep her stocked with the right colors of thread for her project to embroider 50 state flowers on 50 pillowcases, along with Murphy’s Oil Soap and a box for donations to Goodwill. A week and my house looked like Marie Kondo had come for a stay.
When she died in 1985, she left a box in her chest of drawers with postcards from Luce and the letter she composed. My grandmother left me with an appreciation for a well-ordered house, a family who kills at Jeopardy when the category is state trivia, and so much more.
When I checked out of the Sheraton in March, I left a 10, as my grandmother said to do, on the counter in the bathroom and not under the pillow like a piece of wedding cake where it can get lost. I might stiff a waiter if he spit in my soup, but never a maid, no matter that voice in my head as I check out. That’s for management to do. To Nellie and her colleagues: Thank you for your service.
from The Atlantic http://bit.ly/2XiFn7R
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Saturday, February 16, 2019
post #404
ha ha 404
main points:
- wake up early to go to philly with mom and sheena
- visit grandparents
- walk around center city with mom
- honeygrow lunch takeout with sheena
- drive back home and eat honeygrow / got my diploma (sort of)
- catch up on thursday/friday blog posts
- call with dimitri, cae, simon and sam
- visit alyssa in philly! dinner and hanging out/talking
- chilling at home / health update
today i:
- woke up at 8:30am to my alarm. dad came in to wake me up and also asked about the lease since it was coming today. we got to the topic of how much i withdrew for checks and he said the broker fee was insanely high... :/ and he was right cause 15% of annual rent is a lot. but i had no other option cause it seems like most landlords work exclusively through brokers now. he lectured to me about spending money and how i should be careful. i felt bad, i hadn’t been lectured like that in a while like since high school. i know he was just trying to watch out/express concern for me though
- sheena mom and i hopped into the car so sheena could go to orchestra rehearsal. i ate half a bagel and a banana. sheena drove us to philly, mom talked to me a lot about her personal experiences searching for real estate / housing early on in her life. once we got there, sheena got dropped off to rehearsal, mom and i found parking and went to visit wai po and wai gong. i hadn’t seen them since christmas!! we got a parking spot that someone gave us with their remaining ticket time (like 30 minutes from 10:20am-10:52am)
we went up and i saw wai po and wai gong, it was really nice. i talked to wai po a bit about my asia trip plans. then wai gong sat me down and talked to me about health and taking care of myself :p and also wanted me to learn chinese (which i’ve sort of been doing trying to watch the chinese tv show). we brought them the poster sized version of the photo we took with our whole family in california which was very nice, they were both excited to put it up on the wall
- mom and i left around 10:50am to go back to our car, and we said good bye :( i’ll see them in a few months though hopefully in NYC. we parked it somewhere else close to sheena’s rehearsal place and then walked around center city. we walked by city hall and the surrounding block while mom took some pictures. while we walked around i was trying to figure out what to do for the day. in the morning i brought my laptop in case i decided to stay in philly for the day to hang out with alyssa later
cause either i could stay in philly for the day, have a call with friends about greece at 3pm then meet up with alyssa or
go home, have call with friends about greece, then drive back down to visit alyssa
- mom and i went to starbucks and she got a latte, then walked back to pick up sheena as she finished rehearsal at 12pm. then mom waited in the car while sheena and i went to get honeygrow takeout
just as we were walking over, marsha told me she got a notification from USPS that the lease wasn’t signed at delivery and needed to be picked up. dad also got the notification but was out at set building for sheena’s musical (i believe) so he may have missed it. but he rushed back and flagged down the USPS driver and got the lease from him, so we fortunately got that sorted all out :D
- i decided to go home so after we got the honeygrow salads, sheena ate hers on the car while mom drove us back home. once we got back around 1pm, i ate the salad. mom made some spicy noodle thing that she said was too spicy. the salad was pretty solid and felt really healthy. when i got back, dad got my diploma for my bachelor’s in the mail. he was unsure where my master’s was so i logged in online to check my student report. it said they were both ordered at the same time so maybe the master’s will come in later in the week
- chilled for a bit on my computer and also finished up thursday and started on friday’s blog posts. sheena went to therapy at 2pm with mom. dad was out at set building. but sheena got back around 2:45pm so she came to my room to play smash
dimitri cae simon sam and i hopped on a snapchat call to discuss tentative dates for greece. dimitri gave us the high level plan and also timeline (early september) depending on what cae and sam find out about grad school. it was nice hanging out with all of them on call again after a long long time :D sheena was playing smash in the background in my room LOL
- wrapped up around 4pm, then talked to mom and dad a bit about logistics. i decided i would just drive to alyssa’s cause it’s a bit far from the train. then talked to mom a bit about what she talked about with the therapist. she’s still concerned for sheena and hopefully we can help her get better soon
- drove down around 4:30pm, getting there around 5:30pm. i parked near her apt and she showed me around her apt. it was MAAAASSIVE. for 3 people 3BR for a very low priced rent. the first thing we did was get tacos at loco pez. it was a nice restaurant
at first it was a bit awkward cause we hadn’t talked in like over a year. but then after catching up briefly on what we’ve been up to (my chicago+seattle trip, her job, my upcoming job/moving to NYC, how our siblings were doing), the awkwardness cleared up. also cause our food came LOL. we both got 3 tacos each, they were pretty solid. walked back to her apt and just hung out in her room
she showed me some music she’s been making in logic pro x, the music had really chill vibes, like what you’d hear in a cafe (it was guitar + synth + bass + other beats). we talked about spotify and music (she saw some of my playlists from the spotify sharing feature which was cool), woman pockets, hinge, family friend food truck endeavor, smash, “now what?” feeling of after graduating
then we went to the living room to hang out / get some water. she turned on the TV and the wedding ringer was on TV. we watched that while talking about a bunch of TV shows (west world, game of thrones, bob’s burgers, legion, a few others, avengers movie). we also looked at some people who had graduated from our high school who now had children, and other friends from high school and where they’re at. it was a pretty fun time. i think i felt happy cause hanging out just felt familiar and nice to talk. lately i’ve realized how hard it is to keep in touch with people and this was another example of that. we meet like once a year but it was cool that we could jump back to where we left off. i think she’s one of the few people i keep in touch with from high school
i left her place around 9:30pm, getting back around 10:30pm. once i got home, dad talked to me again a bit about spending money and needing to be careful, ohio’s story with manufacturing with a company and not being able to find enough workers, GM and the reason they went bankrupt (tried to be too greedy after tariffs on foreign cars)
- came upstairs and took a shower and finished up friday’s blog post
it’s now 12:40am i’m ready to go to sleep. my eyes are barely open as i’m typing this, i’ve been waking up early ish the past few days. overall, a pretty fun day
also health update
i didn’t get a chance to pay too much attention to this while traveling but in seattle around february 7 (like 9 days ago) -- or maybe february 9...? anywho i think i noticed a dull ache in my right abdomen, just below my rib cage. it was kind of on and off for multiple days. and it was totally fine while i was walking around NYC with marsha all day / sprinting all morning so i wonder if the aching pain is just all in my head cause i’ve had that with bluetooth headphones. i’ve been feeling some random chest pains since i got back on tuesday but it’s very infrequent, like once a few days (each just being a few seconds and in different locations). but the dull ache in my right abdomen has been more frequent on and off, so i guess we’ll see where that goes
i looked it up online and all of the results are like severe stuff like appendicitis or something else... idk. i’m kind of concerned but if it still doesn’t go away after a few more days, i’ll try to go to the doc maybe
okay the end i am super tired
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