#home extensions North London

[combitconstruction]

undefined

Designing a Modern Flat Roof for Your Home | Combit Construction

Are you designing a flat roof for your home? Read our complete guide to know about the pros & cons of flat roof design while designing your home.

[onstructionltd]

Frequently Asked Questions About House Extensions in North London - Onstruction

Any construction that is attached to the primary structure is referred to as a "house extension." This could be an addition to a loft, a basement, a kitchen, a living room, or even a new bedroom. Extensions can be constructed using a range of materials, from brick & block to more expensive, luxury. For more details visit https://www.onstruction.co.uk/frequently-asked-questions-about-house-extensions-in-north-london

[sgiandubh]

Oh, hello

The Sibyl of Tydavnet was supposedly back home, and we finally have something to speculate upon, after a week-end with no news from both of Them (go figure). So much so that it's been very, very quiet in here:

This is, of course, a latergram, When being the important question, here. I have to say I was a bit surprised, after two hours of research (and cooking, but that is a separate story).

Let's unpack:

From 1974 to 2023, the Monaghan County Museum has been open and free to visit. Until 1981, in the old Courthouse building of Monaghan Town, then temporarily hosted by the Christian Brothers Secondary School, and since 1986 in this building on Hill Street:

I am not inventing anything, this info comes straight from their official website:

On May 18th, 2023 (on International Museum Day), the venue was closed and the collections were planned to be moved at the new Monaghan Peace Campus:

The Peace Campus is a very important local initiative, funded by the City Council, the Irish Department of Rural and Community Development and the EU, via the Irish SEUPB (Special EU Programs Body - ironically, the counterpart of my new job, starting next Friday, LOL). It was inaugurated on May 10, 2024:

Where was C, in this clip, posted today and suggesting a recent trip to Ireland?

In the old building, of course, exactly as it was on May 18, 2023:

Apparently taken on an extensive private tour that included the storage area, where this pic was taken:

How do I know it? I simply combed the meager social media accounts of the Museum, that's all. See and compare for yourself, with this screenshot of the moving operations, from the old Hill Street to the new premises (posted on Facebook, on June 14th, 2024, but very likely shot slightly before):

In April 2023, the new Peace Campus looked roughly like this. There is no way that clip would have been shot there. Not then...

...and not later, because the new display in the new venue looks totally different:

And it was completed around May 10th 2024, when this picture was taken, separately from the rest of the released info:

The pic was taken by Laura Hogan, the North East Correspondent for RTE News, a subsidiary of the Irish public TV and Radio broadcasting company:

But perhaps even more interestingly, the Museum shot several clips of people featured, like C, in the new inaugural exhibition. Such as this guy, back in June 2023, on their old premises:

Ardal O'Hanlon, Irish stand-up comedian and actor, based in Ireland and London:

This is a very, very, VERY late latergram. My best guess would be anytime between May 2023 and most probably around June 2023. Simply because it would be logical that the clip shooting be completed with all the people involved at the same time, for logistical reasons, and before the packing of the exhibits would have started in earnest.

As always, I could be wrong. As always, people will bitch around, especially the divas and those who know strictly nothing. But I'll be damned if C were in Ireland anytime near this last week-end!

[mrchiipchrome]

77 and 57 Pleaseeeeee

Hmmm Lia walti? Or you can choose

prompt 57. -It feels like you don’t care.

prompt 77. -We may never, ever meet again.

You can request for whoever, prompt list is linked in my masterlist:) (please people, it's drier than the sahara in my inbox)

------------------

“LIA! Will you just stop and listen to me for once!?” It had been long overdue, you snapping, but this time it had just gone way too far for you not to react.

You had signed for Arsenal when you were 22, and found your love at 23. Now 2 years later, you've gotten an offer from the world’s biggest club, Barcelona. 

Frankly it would be stupid to turn the offer down, but you were more hesitant than you’d ever been. I mean, you had your love and all your friends in North London, but on the other hand the board had been toying with you and your contract extension for months now.

You would think that your girlfriend of 2 years would be happy for the incredible opportunity you got, but when you told her of the record offer from the massive club she just shut down. Ever since then she’d been ignoring you for most of the time.

As for you, you’d tried everything in the playbook to get her to talk to you but it always led to arguments, like now.

“It feels like you don’t care, not about me and not about our relationship” You sigh out, just tired of the constant arguments. “I mean, when was the last time you looked me in the eyes? The last time you told me you love me, huh? Weeks.” 

Lia looks at you, stunned. She hadn’t even thought about how her behavior affected you, only how much it hurt her that you were thinking of leaving.

Now that you’re standing before her, in your shared apartment, packing your clothes into a suitcase to take with you to the Spanish city it all just becomes so real to the girl. She was really about to lose you because of her own stupidity and inability to be happy for you when it meant that she had to be sad.

“You know if you do this, we may never ever meet again?” Lia’s shaky voice finally comes out of her mouth, the words having been stuck there. She hears how you pause in zipping up the suitcase, but then you start back up again.

Cupping the older woman’s face, you press your lips to hers in what could be your last ever kiss, tender and loving. The kiss telling the woman that you’d always love her, even if it was from afar. Leaning your forehead against hers, you sigh before moving away slightly.

“I guess this is it for now. You will always be my dearest, I hope you know that. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, from the moon and back.” Lia stands still in the place where you left her, eyes still closed. The tears only start to fall when she hears the echoing click from the door closing. 

Lia’s body drops to the ground, heartbreaking sobs wracking her body. As you stand outside of the front door that once lead to the place you called home, you can’t help but let out your own sob in despair. 

All you wanted to do was run back into the apartment and apologize, telling your love that you didn’t mean it and that you were staying, but then you’d be lying. You were moving after all, to Barcelona and away from your love, away from all your friends. 

Oh how were you going to make it without your greatest love by your side, through all the good and bad, all the hard and easy, through the ups and downs.

That was something you’d have to figure out during the 2 hour flight to your new home, for the foreseeable future…

[madeintheniamh]

Heyyyyy! Can you do one where Tilly gets her first boyfriend, and Harry really wants to meet him so she brings him home for dinner? And after words Harry is all sentimental that she’s going up and stuff :))))) Love your stories btw

it's here! i put a bit of a spin on it but hope you still like it anyway xx

posh boys with rich girls

stmf one shot #15

when harry dropped tilly off at the prep school gates for the first time nearly fifteen years ago, he didn't realise that he had signed his future self up for having to deal with the notoriously stuck up private school boys.

a/n: this is exactly what i think a casual saturday in the styles house would be like. pizza and wine always. absolutely no 'posh people' food as harry would probably call it.

warnings: fluff, dadrry, teenagers, rich stuck up boys lol

Tilly had convinced herself that she could keep a secret from her Dad for once in her life, because she knew how protective he could be over her. He got scared when she fell from extension as a flyer in cheer- so imagining how dramatic he’d be when he found out about her new boyfriend made her stomach churn a bit. In his eyes, no one would ever be good enough for his girls- apart from him. This was quite a narcissistic way of putting it, he knew that, but he couldn’t help his standards being so high.

“You’re going out with Este again?” He joked. “I didn’t know she got a new car,”

“Yes, haha,” Tilly tried to chuckle, her face going red. “It’s really nice,”

“Can I come outside and see it?”

She shuffled around on the spot, trying to hide the fact that she was lying through her teeth.

“We’re busy, Daddy,” She bit her lip slightly, as he surveyed her guilty face. “We’re already late, I-”

Her face was now a shade of crimson as he pressed the button on the control to zoom in on the image on the security cameras that were on the driveway.

“Wow, didn’t know Este had her haircut, either,”

She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and began to bite one of her nails. “Yeah, looks nice,”

“Matilda Gemma,” He tutted, a line forming in-between his eyebrows. “Are you lying to your Daddy?”

She scorned slightly. “No, I would never lie to you,”

He took her chin in his palm and forced her to look into his eyes. “You know I don’t like it when you lie to me, Tilly Gem,”

She shivered, feeling his cold breath on the side of her neck. “M’not lying, I swear,”

“Why don’t you want me to come out there then, hmm?”

“Okay! I’m lying! Stop looking at me like that, it’s scaring me!” She threw her hands up in defeat.

“Well, is he from school? What’s his name? How long have you been seeing him?” Harry panted, his voice beginning to become shaky. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I knew you’d be funny about it!” Tilly shouted as she began to turn back towards the front porch.

“What do you mean?” Harry protested. “I’m never funny about anything!”

“Right now, look, you’re being weird, stop!” Tilly scolded, one hand on the door handle, the other on her purse.

“You tell him he’s coming round for dinner this weekend, no excuses!” Harry shouted back at her, as she was now halfway down the drive. “I need to meet him!”

---

Henry had gotten with a few rich girls in his time, and had met many of their rich Dads as a result. But none like Tilly Styles. Most girls who went to private school in North London had Dads who worked as plastic surgeons on Harley Street, or were big bosses in corporate in those tall towers in Canary Wharf. She had promised him that her dad was perfectly normal, even if he was one of the most famous men in the music industry. But of-course he was normal to her, he thought, because he was her dad.

“I’m not scared of a man who sings about fruit, I’m not scared of a man who sings about fruit,” He muttered to himself repeatedly as he sat nervously behind the wheel of his BMW. He looked up at the house in front of him, and shuddered slightly. He was rich himself- his father was a CEO at one of the big law firms in Westminster. But he hadn’t realised just how rich Harry Styles really was. He couldn’t understand how Tilly was so humble, having grown up in a house like this. He was probably half a mile away from the front door- fountains at the centre of the drive which a lush collection of cars hid behind, including Tilly’s little Audi TT, which was pretty scratched up as a result of her questionable parking every morning at Sixth Form. He jumped slightly as the hands-free system on his car began to speak.

1 new message from Tils

“we can see you hiding in the car… just come out already he’s really not that bad”

Swearing to himself, he opened the car door and made the long trek down the drive, before finally reaching the sheltered porch and ringing the button on the door. He thought that Tilly almost looked out of place as she opened it. She was wearing a white button up dress, her hair curled into tiny blonde ringlets that rested just below her collarbone.

“Hi,” He smiled awkwardly, struggling to put his hands around her back with a bottle of red wine in one hand, and a bunch of flowers in the other.

“These are so pretty, thank you,” She smiled, as he handed her the bouquet. “I love daisies, they’re my favourite,”

He caressed her back slightly, as he heard a deep laugh come from down the hallway. She took the bottle of wine from his other hand and began to laugh.

“Think Daddy’s already had too much of this,” She chuckled, as she turned and began to walk towards the kitchen. She turned around and noticed he was still stood by the front door.

“Come on, don’t be scared,” She giggled again, dimples beginning to show on her cheeks, gesturing for him to follow her. “He’s just a tall, soppy man,”

Harry still had a glass in his hand as he watched Tilly walk into the kitchen, and stood up from where he was sitting at one of the bar stools. He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a loose band t-shirt. It was hard to tell that he was a 42-year-old multi-millionaire just by looking at him.

“Daddy, this is Henry,”

“Hi, Mr Styles,” He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Harry is fine,” Harry laughed, holding his hand out. “Although, our names are similar, so that could get confusing. You’re the posh version of me,”

Henry tried to laugh as he shook his hand, but it sounded more like a cough. He looked over at Tilly, who was clearly amused by the awkward situation. He noticed all the tattoos littering his left arm. His father had always told him that rich people never got tattoos, because it wasn’t classy. But he had to admit- it looked good on Harry, even if some of them were starting to fade.

“Do you want to sit down?” Tilly asked, trying to break the silence. “The pizza’s going to be here in a minute,”

You had been in the utility room, silently listening in on the conversation whilst waiting putting the finishing touches on the crème brulee which you planned to serve for dessert. It was almost perfect timing, as the timer went off and you strolled into the kitchen, chuckling slightly at the wide-eyed look on Tilly’s new boyfriend’s face.

“Hi, Henry,” You smiled. “I hope he hasn’t scared you,”

“Oh, no, Mrs Styles, it’s just, you have such a nice house and everything,”

Tilly jutted in. “Daddy works hard, too hard,” She giggled, as Harry passed her a handful of 20 pound notes to give to the delivery driver. Henry looked at her wide eyed. His father would never give tips to people in those sort of jobs.

“I hope pizza is okay for you, it’s what we always have on a Saturday night… a Styles family tradition, I guess,”

“No, that sounds lovely,” He smiled. “But we usually have filet mignon on Saturdays,”

You swore you heard Harry scoff, as Henry’s eyes grew even wider when he saw the three of you begin to open the boxes, not even bothering to plate up the food properly.

“So, Henry,” Harry drawled slightly, the wine beginning to go to his head, as he shovelled a slice of pizza into his mouth. “What do your parents do?”

“Well, my Father works in the legal sector, and my Mother well, she spends most of her time at the country club,”

Harry tried not to choke on his food as he held back a laugh. “Wow, clever people jobs,” He snorted slightly. “What are you going to do when you finish your A-Levels?”

“My father says he is going to get me a job, in the legal industry,” Henry replied, you cringing slightly at the received pronunciation with which he pronounced his words.

“Sounds… interesting,” Harry replied, turning at you and rolling his eyes slightly.

---

After a couple of hours of awkward conversation, he had gone home and Tilly had gone back upstairs. You and Harry were still sat at the kitchen counter, as Harry filled up his glass of wine for the 5th time that night. His voice had gotten slow- painfully slower than it usually was, as he told you literally everything he had been thinking for the past few hours.

“I knew Mum was right when she said we should have sent them both to schools up North,” he sighed, fiddling with one of the rips in his jeans.

“What do you mean, lovey?” You asked, not quite understanding what he meant. “They’ve both been fine, here,”

“Ohhhh, my Father works in the legal sector,” Harry mocked, too drunk to notice the room’s newest occupant, who had come downstairs to get herself a glass of water, and was now staring wide eyed at Harry. “Their accents are already too posh for me, I just want them to be normal, and be around normal people, not with a load of rich twats,”

“Harry,” you gestured to your daughter who was now stood still at the opposite side of the room.

“Oh hey, Tils, you okay?”

“-You don’t like him.” She scorned, her brows becoming furrowed in the way that his did whenever he was annoyed.

“Tilly, I- that’s not true-”

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought him round.” She sulked, beginning to walk away, before Harry got up from the counter and blocked her from leaving.

“Hey, look, baby-girl, it’s not that I don’t like him,”

“Then why did you just say that? I heard everything,”

“Look, come and sit down with your Daddy,” he sighed, gesturing for her to follow him to the sofa next to the patio doors. He stroked a hand through a ringlet of her hair as she lent into him.

“I don’t not like him. He seems like a nice guy, he really does. It’s just hard for me to see you growing up, sometimes, because you and your sister are my babies, and it’s really hard for me to let go of you both,” He explained, as she placed her arm around his shoulder. “I can’t really explain it, but that’s just how it is, and I just don’t want you to get hurt, because it would hurt me, too,”

She laughed slightly, almost not believing what he had said. “But Daddy, I’m nearly eighteen,” She laughed. “You’ll have to let me go when I go to uni in September,”

“I know, I know,” he exhaled slowly. “Doesn’t make it easier, though, because you’re still my little girl. I still remember when you were little and I used to take you to ballet lessons,”

Tilly giggled a bit. “I made you wear the tutu, didn’t I,”

“You did,” He laughed, peppering a kiss to her forehead. “And I loved every second of it,”

She fully relaxed into his tall frame, feeling his slow heartbeat underneath her.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all,” He sighed. “Boys can be arses, I know that. And you’re the most important thing in the world to me, and it would break me,”

She took a deep breath, nuzzling her chin into his warm chest. “Okay, Daddy,”

“You promise me that no matter what, you know you can tell me anything, and I’ll be there, always. Promise.”

He looked down at her, green eyes identical to his staring back at him. “And fuck filet mignon on Saturdays- what even is that? Pizza is way better.”

---

i had to google what filet mignon actually was lol. looking at the photos it looks absolutely grim. how do people eat that. harry is right. pizza is always better.

if you enjoyed this one shot, i have linked the masterlist to my slipping through my fingers series here!

also thank you to the anon who requested this- please request more i beg you <3

[mybeingthere]

Beautiful paintings by British artist Edward Burra.

Edward Burra was born in London in 1905. He briefly attended boarding school but when he caught pneumonia in 1917 he was sent home to Rye and his formal education came to an end. Burra's education continued at home where he was surrounded by books. The Burra household was highly cultivated and arty and Burra was encouraged to read and draw. Between 1921 and 1923 Burra attended the Chelsea Polytechnic where he studied life-drawing, illustration and architectural drawing. It was here that Burra developed an interest in jazz and the cinema and made friends that he would keep for the rest of his life. This was followed by two years at the Royal College of Art between 1923-1925.

Burra travelled extensively during his lifetime spending time in Italy, France, Spain, Morocco, North and Central America and Ireland. In 1925 Burra met Paul Nash, who encouraged him to exhibit his work and taught him wood engraving and collage making. Paul Nash exposed Burra to Surrealism which captivated him. While he did dabble in the movement and was briefly a member of Unit One, Burra was never whole-heartedly part of any artistic group. Burra also designed costumes and sets for theatre and opera productions, particularly during the War years when travel was more difficult.

Burra suffered from poor health throughout his life. As he grew older it became more difficult for him to travel as far or as extensively. In his later years, his sister Anne drove him around Britain and he produced many landscape paintings at this time. Burra died in Hastings in 1976, at the age of 71.

[fatehbaz]

So 26 February 2023, Grist re-publishes a piece originally from InvestigateWest, after InvestigateWest got their hands on some sensitive emails/documents revealing that the EPA rather than fairly supervising mining companies “they’re supposed to regulate” has instead assisted the companies “by attacking researchers and smearing peer-reviewed science.” (Surprising nobody; Montana is a resource extraction colony.) The piece is titled “Newly revealed records show how the EPA sided with polluters in a small Montana mining town.”

So I’m like “oh, is this gonna be about the natural gas boom near Sidney on the North Dakota border right alongside the Bakken oil fields, an operation so big and extensive that it artificially lights up the night sky over the open prairies of the northern Great Plains in a way that, from a satellite view, makes the least densely populated and remote corner of the contiguous United States glow brightly as if it were a massive city or as if the entire region were on fire? Or is this gonna be about coal mining in the remote southeastern corner of the state in the badlands and shortgrass prairie near Crow and Cheyenne reservations, where coal companies in the Yellowstone River watershed traditionally have extracted millions from near the Powder River and Black Hills?”

But nope, it’s about Butte.

“Small Montana mining town.”

This city is still among top 5 or top 10 most culturally and economically significant cities in the state. “Significant city” would be more apt than “small town.” But beyond that.

This is the place known as “Butte, America.”

Butte was the epicenter, the home base, the foundation of the Gilded Age copper boom that electrified the world and lit the streetlights and parlors of turn-of-the-century London and New York.

All that copper wiring, that’s from Butte, or from the industries that Butte’s barons established. This was the city where mining magnates ran the Anaconda Copper Mining Company which spear-headerd the pillaging of Latin America (referenced in the “open veins of Latin America”). Anaconda established the century-long tradition of Canadian and US mining companies destroying lives and landscapes in the Andes.

By 1899, Butte was one of the most significant US cities between the Mississippi River and the Sierra Nevada. This was the home of the Copper Kings.

The Anaconda company, in 1919, completed construction on a smelter smokestack 585 feet high, which remains the tallest surviving brick structure on the planet.

The wealth of Butte in the Edwardian era is unfathomable. They had a rollercoaster. In a single year, merely just those local mines along the edge of the city could produce $23 million ($700 million today). And that doesn’t include all of the wealth stolen from Latin America or other mines in the western US.

Montana was a state that pioneered the “corporations are people” stuff. Its very statehood itself, the christening of Montana, was a gift to the Copper Kings. Every important state office was practically purchased, owned by those mining barons.

This is also why Montana was the site of some of the earliest and most important labor struggles. Because the entire state of Montana was functionally a copper mining company town. Among notable events: the 1914 Butte labor riots, the 1917 brutal assassination of Frank Little, and the 1920 “Anaconda Road Massacre” in which company guards shot and killed 17 fleeing people.

This is why, depending on who you ask, Butte is either A Company Town or A Union Town.

Butte claims to be the home of the “largest population of Irish-Americans per capita of any US city.” This may or may not be true, but this Irish influence evident in the local popularity of pasties. In the Edwardian era, Butte was also the site of an important Chinatown neighborhood and a large Chinese community.

Locally, Butte is famous/infamous for being the site of the Berkeley Pit. Or “The Pit.” The remaining scar of an open-pit copper mine. It’s one mile long, half-mile wide, almost 2,000 feet deep, filled with 900 feet of acidic water laden with cadmium, sulfuric acid, and arsenic.

Just sitting there. In the city.

“Oh, well, of course, back in the Gilded Age, in the 1890s, US businesses got a little out of control, and boom-town communities weren’t really thinking long-term, and they also didn’t know all The Science, so they allowed for the creation of, like, giant toxic death-pits in their residential areas,”

Nope. They built that open-pit mine in 1955 and operated it until 1982.

Anyway, that’s kind of what the 2023 investigative report is about. There is a newer mine (copper and molybdenum) currently open and operating in the city, right next to The Pit.

And the current mine is owned by the richest man in the state of Montana, Dennis Washington. And the EPA is like, “Don’t worry. The mine in the city is fine, it’s all good.” Because that’s what US government land management agencies do: File due diligence paperwork for land-owners while others get poisoned.

The largest open pit copper mine (by extracted volume) on the planet, and the second-deepest open-pit mine of any kind on the planet, is at Chuquicamata in the Atacama region of Chile. This mine was the property of the Anaconda company.

The towering smokestack. The Pit on the edge of town. The gaping wound at Chuquicamata. The legacy of the Copper Kings lives on with the continued theft and poisoning of those in both Montana and the Andes.

[hector-garcia]

– BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name | Aliases: Hector Oscar García Liddell Gender | Sexual orientation: Cis man | Gay Date of birth | Age: 26th of June | 47 Place of birth: Newcastle upon Tyne Current residence: 10 Downing Street Occupation | Affiliation: Prime Minister of the UK | Labour Party Relationship status: Married to Viktor Liddell. Children: / Positive traits: + Charismatic, brilliant, level-headed, incisive, passionate Negative traits: - Calculating, revolted, idealistic, overly empathetic, intense

– PHYSICAL TRAITS.

Hair color: Salt and Pepper Eye color: Dark brown Height | Weight: 5 feet 9 inches (1.77 m) | 72 kg (160 lbs) Distinguishing features: Strong nose, smooth recognizable voice, Newcastle accent (fading) Faceclaim: Raul Esparza

– BIOGRAPHY.

Hector was born in the working class, to parents who had fled Fidel Castro's regime and made ends meet while they raised him far away from home. Every day, after school, he would do his homework at his mother's desk, who worked as a receptionist in a paper company. His father was a florist working on farmer's markets. They were hard workers, who had big plans for their only son and they saved every month to put him in a proper school. While attending high school, Hector came in second in a competition organized by the British Academy for Science, for his research project on reducing water usage in agriculture, he participated to debate competitions and though he was happy to make his club's victory a collective effort, his extensive knowledge of social, political, economical issues was key into getting 1st place, and it was no surprise that he ended up president of this club as well as 3 others.

He joined college and at the same time officially signed up with the Labour Party as a full member and activist. His parents were involved in politics themselves, and from the moment he was old enough to hold flags at rallies and demonstrations, his father would hoist him up on his shoulders. They both took part in a worker's union, though his mother was the one most devoted to helping both workers and those most vulnerable.

He first did a double licence in sociology and political sciences at LSE, studied in Barcelona for a year with the Erasmus program, and got involved in activism there too. Followed two more years during which he worked on his thesis. He focused on the positive impact immigration had on the country, and while his work was applauded by his peers, he reaped a lot of bile and hatred from the opposition. The dichotomous controversial work ended up in the media. While progressive ones applauded his fresh stance on the question and commented on the depth of his analysis. Qualitative research combined with grounded theory made a solid ground to build his political program on. It didn't matter if some called him a ludicrous dreamer or a clown. Ad hominem attacks only confirmed what he already knew: he needed to take things further, he needed to become a candidate to local elected office.

He ran for council in his borough, Barking and Dagenham, in north eastern London. He fought against gentrification in the area, which would be made all the more painful with the 2012 Olympic Games and the quick evolution of the city in the years that preceded the event. Hector spent most of his free time listening to people who dedicated a lot of their energy, time, or even money for the local community. Eventually, when the time came for him to campaign again, this time for MP, he chose to rely only on their donations, refusing any money that came from corporations and lobbies. The people would be who he represented, not the interest of private companies. It was unconventional. It was risky. He might even lost the election because he fought against Goliaths. Fundraising and media relations was usually handled by professionals who saw the world through a lens filled with statistics and polls.

He shouldn't have won those elections, he supposed. When he won, upspent with a margin of 15 to 1 by his opponents, Hector couldn't believe how much support he had managed to gather through his years as a devoted borough councilman.

Hector, who was now a MP for a little over 10 years, was feeling tight in his shoes, and with the help of his husband, threatened his old LSE pal, none other than the Prime Minister, to reveal the contents of the treaty to the public. He knew the time was right for him. He was quite popular among the party, and his husband's ties with the conservatives made him much easier to accept for the Tories.

His party did get this much right: he represented a breath of fresh air, and those always got people talking. What they didn't get right, however, was this idea that Hector was so much better than your typical politician. Not one bit. He wasn't above shoving people under the bus, or using god awful tactics to get ahead of others. He might have been a likeable personality, with the kind of voice that you could have listened to even if it read the phone book, he also knew when crossing the line was necessary. After all, in a city like London, you couldn't possibly hope to survive being a good guy.

[beardedmrbean]

Police investigating the murders of the wife and two of the daughters of BBC racing commentator John Hunt say they have recovered a crossbow.

Following an extensive manhunt, armed police found suspect Kyle Clifford in Enfield, north London, on Wednesday night. The 26-year-old is still in hospital being treated for serious injuries, Hertfordshire Constabulary say.

Clifford’s older brother, Bradley, is serving a 23-year prison sentence for murder, after he ran over and killed a moped driver who threw a bottle at his Ford Mustang.

Police searching a house in Enfield linked to Bradley Clifford have seized what appeared to be two computer hard drives and two document bags.

Carol Hunt, 61, along with Hannah, 28, and Louise, 25, were described by devastated friends and neighbours as “beautiful souls” and “the loveliest, gentlest family” after they were discovered with fatal wounds at their home in Bushey.

Clifford is known to have served briefly in the British Army.

During the manhunt, police warned the public not to approach him.

[tye-wig-music]

let me try and précis my current status:

yesterday I travelled into london to croydon to hear a piece I wrote premièred. the concert was very good, but the performance of my piece was by far and away the shakiest; the conductor, a friendly acquaintance of mine who had commissioned me, apologised & promised to do it justice on another occasion.

now on the journey down to london owing to train strikes I had travelled partly by rail replacement bus. all told, the journey took about three hours, including a layover in royston where I walked into town and bought fish and chips from an outfit operating out of a building formerly serving as a buttery for king james the first and sixth (the town having been extensively patronised by him for its excellent hunting).

another ingredient in the mix is that I had been hoping to attend a festival in hackney earlier in the day, and had arranged to stay over chez un ami also attending; for reasons largely relating to my having recently had pneumonia and finishing fallout: new vegas very late the night before, this failed to come to fruition. as regarded my options for overnight accommodation after the concert, barring quick-witted organisation I was left with one option: travel north to my parents’ house

my parents being away from home, this seemed a more attractive option than it otherwise might have; the journey, though long, was more feasible than an attempt to return to cambridge, given the late hour and strike action; further, there was a coat I had had to leave on my last visit which I have been missing for a while, so I stood to benefit materially.

however, partly due to the underwhelming première, and partly to the overwhelming callousness native to professional classical musicians - to which I was exposed, following the gig, at a local pub - I ultimately left croydon in an unhappy state, and felt a strong resentment towards the idea of travelling by train again through a city from which I felt totally alienated. parting ways with my co-commissionee at london bridge station, I therefore - in part because I had to leave the station to find the entrance to the underground - resolved to walk through southwark; to inhabit and come to know it rather than leaving it a faceless point on my journey.

my meandering route took me past southwark cathedral, past the site of the original globe theatre and its reconstruction - I spent a long time fruitlessly searching for the rose theatre in the same area - past Tate modern, and onto the beach of the bank of the thames. Here I resolved to explore more fully a rare and extraordinary thing: a totally secluded area in the middle of london. to aid in my investigation’s fullness (as experienced by me), I decided to take another bump of ketamine (having taken two shortly before the concert - I really do recommend it).

in an altered state I wandered along the river’s bank for some time, frequently picking up interesting rocks or other items of interest. london lies on clay and chalk; I took loose lumps of chalk with me. presently I began to engage in a sort of sonic exploration of the area: finding a short length of metal scaffolding, with a child’s selfishness I struck it against the stones of one of the many bridges over the river, over and over again, for the pleasure of hearing the sound it made. I found a totally rusted boat hook (at least I assume it is a boat hook; it seems the most likely hook-shaped piece of metal to find by a river), which I cleaned to the best of my ability and used to break a cool rock down into more manageably-sized pieces, one of which I took with me. coming to an area inaccessible and watery, I turned back and retraced my steps, noticing that the tide had begun to rise.

this whole excursion had taken over an hour, and it was now going to be infinitely less practical to find transportation routes back to my parents’ house.

careless of this, I walked towards st. paul’s cathedral. it is a building I dislike; it speaks to every disastrous development in cruelty and arrogance of the 17th century, and I have expressed in writing before a desire to see it blown up. taking therefore my lump of genuine thames chalk, I scrawled on its stone “THIS BUILDING SCHEDULED FOR DEMOLITION 2026”. about two minutes after this the rozzers pulled up some 100 feet from where I stood; although seized with a paranoia that they might be here for me (i had been, in fact, adorning numerous surfaces with the legend “EXECUTE SUNAK”), I kept my casual gait and walked north towards st. paul’s tube station, stopping on the way to touch some statues in paternoster square. I disposed of the chalk on my way into the station.

google maps now advised me that my surest route to my parents’ house was to take a coach from marble arch. on discovering it would cost me in the neighbourhood of £16, I left the area in disgust: money isn’t real when you use contactless payments in the fare zones.

there passed, to quote the poet, a dreary time. one of my least favourite things to do is walk through central london, yet here I was. it is a disgusting place. my plan now took on this shape: I would head to euston station, and wait for the first train out to watford junction. this meant I had a lot of time to kill.

on great portland street, two things out of the ordinary happened in quick succession: a fox passed close in front of me (always a lucky and happy event), and the front panel of a bus nearby fell out of place. I told this to the driver, and he gave me a lift, free of charge, about five minutes in the wrong direction. it was agreeable to be sitting in a warm vehicle, at any rate, and I was touched by the gesture.

upon arriving at euston, I discovered that - due again to the strike - the fast trains north were not running. the station opened fifteen minutes after I arrived; I sat at the public piano and sombrely, sorrowfully played the piece that had brought me to london in the first place.

checking google maps again, I had learned that my swiftest route to my destination at this juncture was to ride the northern line to edgware and take a bus the rest of the way; this I did, slipping in and out of sleep for the duration of the journey.

when I - finally - walked through the door of the empty house, I discovered that my room had been filled with odds and ends such that it would have been impossible to sleep in it; this presumably because my parents thought that following what I suffered at their hands in december I would be unlikely to return any time in the near future. I write this therefore from their bedroom. provided I can leave here before their return, and leave the room in a state unlikely to draw their attention, I should be laughing.

the whole adventure has been, on the whole, quite a good argument for staying at home and never going anywhere

[scotianostra]

Tragedy struck on 8th December 1959 the lifeboat RNLB Mona, based at Broughty Ferry, capsize in a storm in St Andrews Bay with the loss of all eight crew.

The lifeboat had been called to assist the North Carr lightship which had broken from its mooring and was believed adrift in St Andrews Bay. The conditions when the lifeboat was launched at 3.13 a.m. were atrocious. The last radio message was received from the Mona at 4.48 a.m. As the boat rounded the headland she capsized. No matter how long ago this tragedy occurred the sacrifice of the men involved is not forgotten far and wide but especially in Broughty Ferry.

The lost crew were coxswain Ronald Grant, 28, acting second coxswain George Smith, 53, bowman George Watson, 38, motor mechanic John Grieve, 56, second mechanic James Ferrier, 43, John J Grieve, 22, Alexander Gall, 56, and David Anderson, 42.

The Mona was washed up on Carnousite beach, a body, that of John J Grieve was found nearby,  later five more bodies were found on the lifeboat, Bowman George Watson’s body was never found.

All the crew of the North Carr  were rescued.

In 11 years of operating the Mona and her crew had saved 118 lives.

According to a letter to the Dundee Evening Telegraph, in January 2006, “Among some seamen, it was believed the vessel was tainted with evil, and they resolved to exorcise the boat in a ‘viking ritual’”. The Mona was taken to Cockenzie harbour on the river Forth in the dead of night, stripped of anything of value, chained to the sea wall, and burnt. The burning was done with the knowledge and permission of Lord Saltoun, the chairman of the Scottish Lifeboat Council. Questions were however raised in the House of Commons about the destruction of a lifeboat built with public subscription, sailors are a very superstitious lot though.

Before the Mona was burnt extensive tests were carried out and no faults could be found with the engine or indeed sea worthiness of the lightboat, it was established it had merely capsized.

A service was later held at St James’ Church, the Fisherman’s Kirk at Broughty Ferry. They joined the many hundreds of people from all walks of life who went to the memorial service. The Church only seats 450 and the service was relayed to another 300 in the church Hall and to hundreds who stood in Fort Street on a cold windy, wet forenoon.  People started to queue outside the church doors an hour before the service began, but few of them were able to get in.

Soon after the service ended the first of the funerals of the seven men whose bodies have been recovered took place. Small crowds gathered outside the homes of the six Broughty Ferry men who perished. Hundreds attended the funerals of all the men.

The report of the burning of the Mona reads:

“Mona, the Broughty Ferry disaster lifeboat in which eight men died, was burned secretly on a dark beach at 4.30 a.m.  Only a handful of men saw the Lifeboat – “perfectly sound and seaworthy”, destroyed on confidential orders phoned direct from London by a senior R.N.L.I. official. Few people in the Port Seaton holiday resort on the Forth Estuary near Edinburgh knew about it. Flames crackled as families slept in a tenement only 50 yards away – unaware of the funeral pyre

They only learned about it when they saw the smoking ruin on the rocks at daybreak. After dark on Thursday night the Mona was taken across the harbour basin and moored just inside the protection wall. Then about 4 am she was moved round the sea wall secured by two chains and left to settle on the rock-strewn foreshore as the tide ebbed.

She was set alight and by daybreak all that was left was part of the stern and superstructure – twisted charred metal, still smoking. Four men stripped the last of her metal fittings in the afternoon. And inquisitive youngsters were curtly told to leave the shore. In his office overlooking the harbour. Mr Bruce Jones of the ship repair-firm, said he could not discuss the matter.

The R.N.L.I. officials in London did not want it publicised. I got all my instructions verbally. I must honour the request. Was it really a funeral pyre “well it is not uncommon for this to happen after a disaster” said the senior Lifeboat official in London, “It would be rather unpleasant to put a new crew in a disaster”

[goldengatesroleplaygroup]

— ABOUT THEM ;

FULL NAME → Adelaide Cross AGE | BIRTHDAY → 30 years old | July 5 NEIGHBORHOOD → North Beach HOMETOWN → London, England OCCUPATION → Owner of Something Borrowed

— LAST TEXT RECEIVED ;

gio: The kids miss you. I miss you. Come home soon.

— THEIR CURRENTS ;

CURRENTLY WATCHING → The Royals CURRENTLY LISTENING TO → I Hate The Way by Sofia Carson CURRENTLY DRINKING → Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappuccino

— MOST CHERISHED ;

When Addie was around twelve, her parents got divorced. Before her father officially left to move back home to San Fran, he took Addie and her siblings out for a day just to be stupidly touristy in London. Even to this date, that’s her favorite memory, if only because it was when she knew everything would be okay for their family. Before that, she’d been really concerned about the split and her father no longer living on the same continent, but he took them out to do something utterly normal and remind them that he loved them endlessly, even despite the distance that would soon separate them.

— THEIR LIFE STORY ;

Born as one half of the first set of twins in the British royal family’s esteemed history, Adelaide and Alexandra Windsor were always destined for greatness… or something. When they were born, they were fifth and sixth in line for the throne, never to worry about having to actually rule – especially because their great-uncle’s son was supposed to have children of his own to push them even further down the line. Because of that, the twins and their siblings had quite a bit of freedom growing up – even if their race was a constant point of conversation for the British public, with their grandmother being of Iranian heritage. When the girls were ten years old, however, their great-uncle was killed in a terrible car accident. Shortly thereafter, scandal rocked the family when his son's true father came forward, and a blood test proved he was correct. Because of this, Addie’s grandfather was made King of England, thrusting her own family into the spotlight in a way they’d never expected – to the public’s chagrin, of course, and many more racially charged articles. They got worse when it was revealed that her mother was having an affair. By the time the girls were twelve, their entire life had been rocked because their parents also divorced, and their father moved home to the States. By the age of sixteen, her family's news coverage had worsened, especially regarding the twins. After getting into her first public relationship, coverage of Adelaide got worse, and she felt so alone and needed all of the noise to stop. Addie began to take sleeping pills, though she never truly meant to overdose. Once that had happened, she was sent to America to live with her father for a while. She was about twenty years old when tragedy struck again – her older brother was killed in a freak military accident. Knowing what that meant, she packed up and moved home to England. The next few years were spent in a marriage she’d never wanted, leading up to her finding out that Ben was cheating on her. Then, another bomb: he had cancer, so she was forced to stand by him until his death. Following that, his mistress came out with a tell-all novel. Again, media coverage was extensive, and quite a bit of it was racially charged. Because of that, Addie begged her grandfather to let her return to the States. He granted her request, so she and her son moved to San Francisco. Currently, she runs a successful wedding planning company while raising two children and trying to make her own happily ever after.

[decorworks]

Eight characterful kitchens with sleek metal details

Our latest lookbook focuses on eight homes fitted with metal kitchens, from a flat in London informed by fish-and-chip shops to a 19th-century apartment with period details in Paris. While stainless steel has long been a material associated with restaurant kitchens due to its durability and functionality, it can bring a sleek, modern feel to residential kitchens and many now opt to integrate metal kitchens into their homes. Here, we spotlight eight homes that make use of metal in residential kitchens in various ways. Included in this collection of projects is a fish-and-chip-shop-inspired kitchen in London, a live-work apartment space in a brutalist building in Quebec City and a 24-square-metre micro apartment in Melbourne. This is the latest in our lookbooks series, which provides visual inspiration from Dezeen's archive. For more inspiration, see previous lookbooks featuring conversation pits, living rooms with autumnal hints of red and orange and members' clubs with lavish interiors.

Photo is by Edmund DabneyHighbury apartment, UK, by Holloway Li Local studio Holloway Li renovated this apartment set in a converted Victorian house in north London, creating a single-storey home with an open-plan layout for its co-founder Alex Holloway. Designed to reference materials found in London's many fast food outlets and fish and chip shops, its custom-built kitchen was clad in circle-brushed stainless steel with a curved splashback. Find out more about the Highbury apartment ›

Photo by Maryse Béland, Maxime Brouillet and Antoine MichelBrutalist apartment, Canada, by Jean Verville Metal surfaces were juxtaposed against bright yellow wall lamps within this live-work apartment space that architect Jean Verville designed for himself as a "creative laboratory" inside a residential tower in Quebec City. Stainless-steel commercial restaurant furniture was used for the kitchen, blending in with the raw concrete walls of the 1970s brutalist building. Find out more about the brutalist apartment ›

Photo is by French + TyeTrellick Tower apartment, UK, by Archmongers Surfaces and fixtures made from industrial-style materials were paired with newly exposed concrete aggregate walls in this home renovation by London studio Archmongers in North Kensington's Trellick Tower. In the kitchen, speckled brown and cream terrazzo was incorporated alongside brushed stainless steel counters, white cabinets and matt-black linoleum flooring. Find out more about the Trellick Tower apartment ›

Photo is by Giulio GhirardiHaussmann-era apartment, France, by Rodolphe Parente Set within a 19th-century Parisian apartment, French interior designer Rodolphe Parente balanced cabinet finishes of stainless steel and pastel pink with a frame-like marble splashback for the kitchen. During the overhaul of the Haussmann-era apartment, Parante set out to preserve and restore some of the classic features while improving the sense of flow by connecting the dining room with the kitchen. Find out more about the Haussmann-era apartment ›

Photo is by Félix Dol MaillotUnivers Uchronia, France, by Uchronia Named Univers Uchronia, this eclectic Paris apartment was designed by Uchronia founder Julien Sebban as his home, intended to be an extension of his studio – known for its bold application of shape, colour and reflective surfaces. A metallic island was incorporated in the open-plan kitchen, topped with a blobby seaweed-shaped table lamp, alongside an array of contrasting materials and colours. Find out more about Univers Uchronia ›

Photo is by Yevhenii AvramenkoStalinist-era apartment, Ukraine, by Mirzoyan Studio Partition shelves and built-in furniture were used to distinguish open-plan spaces in Ukrainian architecture practice Mirzoyan Studio's renovation of this Stalinist-era flat in the historic centre of Kyiv. Fitted in the corner of the open-plan living and dining room, the cabinets and countertops in the primary working area of the kitchen were finished in polished stainless steel. Find out more about the Stalinist-era flat ›

Photo is by Pier Carthew Kerr, Australia, by SSdH Metal surfaces were combined with wooden cabinetry in this mezzanine-style apartment by local studio SSdH, located in a warehouse building in Melbourne that once housed a chocolate factory. Part of an open-plan living space, the kitchen was fitted with geometric cabinetry made from local spotted gum timber, as well as brushed stainless steel and nickel fixtures. Find out more about Kerr ›

Photo is by Peter Bennetts Microloft, Australia, by Studio Edwards Australian architecture practice Studio Edwards remodelled this 24-square-metre micro apartment on the top floor of a 1980s apartment block in Melbourne. A horizontal raw aluminium surface was used for the angled wedge-shaped countertops in both the kitchen and dining area, designed to seamlessly merge the two spaces. Find out more about Microloft › This is the latest in our lookbooks series, which provides visual inspiration from Dezeen's archive. For more inspiration, see previous lookbooks featuring conversation pits, living rooms with autumnal hints of red and orange and members' clubs with lavish interiors. Read the full article

[northlondontreesurgeon]

Wavey Tree Care: Your Trusted Partner for Tree Removal in North London

In the bustling urban landscape of North London, the greenery that frames our homes and streets adds charm and character to our neighborhoods. However, maintaining this greenery can sometimes present challenges. Trees can become overgrown, damaged, or pose risks to properties and safety. When such situations arise, residents turn to expert services like Wavey Tree Care, your go-to provider for tree removal North London.

Why Tree Removal is Sometimes Necessary

Trees play a vital role in our ecosystem, providing oxygen, improving air quality, and enhancing aesthetic appeal. However, there are circumstances under which tree removal becomes necessary:

Safety Hazards: Trees that are dead, dying, or structurally compromised can pose a significant danger. High winds, heavy rain, or storms can cause branches to fall, risking injury to people or damage to property.

Disease and Infestation: Trees can be susceptible to diseases and pests that not only affect the tree itself but can also spread to other healthy trees nearby. In such cases, removal may be the best option to protect the surrounding flora.

Space Limitations: In urban settings like North London, space is often at a premium. Overgrown trees can encroach on properties, blocking sunlight or infringing on neighbor’s space. Tree removal can help reclaim this vital space.

Aesthetic Considerations: Sometimes, a tree simply doesn’t fit in with the landscape or design of a property. Whether it's blocking a beautiful view or detracting from a home’s curb appeal, professional tree removal can enhance the visual aesthetics of your outdoor space.

Why Choose Wavey Tree Care for Tree Removal in North London?

At Wavey Tree Care, we understand that tree removal is not just about cutting down a tree; it’s about ensuring safety, preserving the environment, and enhancing the beauty of your property. Here are some reasons to choose us for your tree removal needs:

Expertise and Experience Our team comprises skilled arborists with extensive training and experience in tree care and removal. We have handled a variety of tree species and conditions, ensuring that we can effectively manage any tree-related challenge you face.

Comprehensive Assessment Before proceeding with any tree removal, we conduct a thorough assessment of the tree’s health and the surrounding environment. This careful evaluation allows us to provide tailored solutions that prioritize safety and sustainability.

Safety First Tree removal can be hazardous work. At Wavey Tree Care, we prioritize safety for both our team and your property. We use advanced equipment and follow strict safety protocols to ensure that every removal is executed without incident.

Environmentally Responsible Practices We believe in maintaining the ecological balance of our communities. When we remove a tree, we take care to recycle and repurpose the wood whenever possible. This commitment to sustainability helps reduce waste and supports local ecosystems.

Customer-Centric Approach We understand that tree removal can be a daunting task for homeowners. Our friendly team is dedicated to providing clear communication throughout the process, from initial consultation to completion. We listen to your concerns and work collaboratively to ensure your needs are met.

Competitive Pricing Quality tree removal services don’t have to break the bank. At Wavey Tree Care, we offer competitive pricing without compromising on quality. We provide transparent quotes with no hidden fees, allowing you to budget effectively.

The Tree Removal Process

Understanding the tree removal process can help alleviate concerns for homeowners. Here’s what you can expect when you choose Wavey Tree Care:

Initial Consultation: We begin with a free consultation to discuss your needs and assess the tree in question.

Detailed Quote: Following the assessment, we provide a detailed quote outlining the scope of work, costs, and timeline.

Tree Removal: On the scheduled day, our team will arrive equipped with the necessary tools and safety gear. We’ll carefully execute the removal, ensuring minimal disruption to your property.

Post-Removal Cleanup: After the tree is removed, we conduct a thorough cleanup, leaving your property tidy and free from debris.

Follow-Up Services: If desired, we can provide advice on replacing the removed tree or enhancing your landscape.

Conclusion When it comes to tree removal North London, Wavey Tree Care stands out as a reliable, professional, and environmentally-conscious choice. Our commitment to safety, customer satisfaction, and sustainable practices makes us the preferred partner for all your tree care needs. If you’re facing challenges with trees on your property, don’t hesitate to reach out. Let us help you ensure that your landscape remains beautiful, safe, and thriving. Contact Wavey Tree Care today for a consultation, and take the first step toward a healthier, more vibrant outdoor space.

[astonchaseuk]

Why Aston Chase Stands Out Among North London Estate Agents: A Trusted Name in Property Excellence

Aston Chase is one of the leading North London estate agents, known for delivering exceptional property services tailored to the unique needs of clients in this vibrant area. With extensive local knowledge and a commitment to excellence, Aston Chase offers unparalleled expertise in buying, selling, and renting luxury properties in North London. Trust Aston Chase to provide a seamless and professional experience, ensuring you find the perfect home or investment opportunity in this sought-after region.

[fastbuildingcompany]

A loft conversion is a great way to maximise the space in your home without the need for an expensive extension. It’s an ideal solution for growing families who need more room, or for anyone looking to increase the value of their property. Loft conversions can be tailored to meet your specific needs, whether you want a cosy bedroom, a modern office, or a spacious playroom.