#in honour of national bird count week

[dragonwhisper23]

tell me about a fun bird please

Oh do I have the fun bird for you!

So in my local area we have a few different large parrot species, but the two relevant to this story are Sulfur Crested Cockatoos and Long Billed Corellas. They’re temperamental destructive birds that I absolutely adore.

Now the theory I have goes, is that during nesting time, there’s a limited amount of hollows in my area (less old growth trees nowadays, more urbanisation of the rural area I live in) and as such they’re in high demand and fiercely competed over.

And sometimes you can get one of the species chasing the other out and off their eggs and then laying their eggs in the nest, eventually raising both their young and the orphaned eggs. And when this happens the resulting adult is more interested in a mate from their adoptive flock rather than they own species. Which is what leads us to our Fun Bird.

A wild Hybrid of the two!

This guy has a weird mixed phenotype of the two original species, with the markings, blue eye ring, and crest shape of a long billed corella and the beak, crest colour and size of a Sulfur crested cockatoo, and a mix of the red and yellow in colouration that results in this lovely orange. They follow the local migration of the Sulfur Crested Cockatoo and Long Bill Corella flock and as spring starts, they arrive in my backyard.

As such, I have a number of photos of them, and even watched one year when they had a mate with another Sulfur Crested Cockatoo.

Now before you say, “Are you sure this isn’t some stray citron crested cockatoo?” Believe me that was my first guess when this unusual bird appeared in our backyard. But the hybrid only resembles that species in crest colouration and otherwise none of their markings, size or body shape match up with otherwise described species. And it’s also too far south for a Citron, so the current explanation for their unique appearance is a hybrid.

I would love to have the chance to actually study them up close, perhaps even testing to see if they are truly a hybrid and where they go when they’re not hanging out in my backyard but alas I’m not a bird scientist (yet) just a big bird enthusiast. I’ve even painted this unique visitor to my backyard

Photo credits to both me and Nora Peters, my Nana

[rabbitcruiser]

National Bird Day 

Don your binoculars to spy these feathered friends in the wild, contribute to conservation efforts or raise awareness of birds in captivity.

The world is filled with a plethora of different species of birds. From cardinals to doves, from parakeets to parrots. Different people have different relationships with the various species of birds. As such, one could easily imagine that there could actually be numerous National Bird Days in the world, serving different purposes and perhaps varying by region.

What this day refers to, however, is known as National Bird Day, observed primarily in the United States. This is a bit different from occasions such as International Migratory National Bird Day, World Migratory National Bird Day, National Bird Day (UK), and several other National Bird Days which do not follow the same etymology as “turkey day”.

It is also worth noting that each of these is named for those avian friends, not the late Senator Robert Byrd!

The ‘National’ term might be a bit deceptive here, since it’s not actually a national holiday in the United States. For a day to technically be a national holiday, an Act of Congress is required, and there is no evidence that has ever happened. That being said, this delightful day is still popularly known as National Bird Day, regardless of whatever Congress might think of that.

So get ready to learn about and celebrate National Bird Day!

History of National Bird Day

Back in 1894, Charles Almanzo Babcock, the superintendent of schools in Oil City, Pennsylvania, declared the first holiday in the United States to celebrate birds. Babcock was passionate about the idea of advancing bird conservation as a moral value and it seems that his idea for the day caught on. Babcock’s National Bird Day eventually turned into what is now known as International Migratory National Bird Day, which is celebrated in May.

That day is not actually related to this National Bird Day, though, in terms of history. This particular version of National Bird Day was created as it marked the end of the annual Christmas Bird Count in the mid-21st century.

National Bird Day has been dedicated at least in part to raising awareness about birds that are held in captivity. This day is a project of the Avian Welfare Coalition, which works hard to raise awareness for birds that are captured or produced in captivity for either profit or amusement of humans.

Presumably that includes Aunt Marjorie’s parrot, the penguins in the Columbus Zoo, and that turkey that made the ultimate sacrifice to grace the family’s dinner table for Thanksgiving back in November. After all, a holiday that marks the end of three weeks of focusing on wild birds that occurs during the Christmas Bird Count would appropriately focus some attention on captive birds.

The goal of the day is to educate folks on the destructive tendencies of the bird trade, the cruelty of bird breeding mills, and ideas for helping and improving the lives of birds that are already living in captivity.

How to Celebrate National Bird Day

Looking for ideas on how to celebrate National Bird Day? Well this list is a great way to begin. Try out some of these ideas or come up with some of your own:

Learn More About Birds

Birds are important for a variety of reasons. They are a valuable part of nature’s ecosystem. Many of them sing and quite a few of them even look pretty! Of course, many species of birds are also eaten by humans, but it does seem that it might be a little inappropriate to go quail hunting in honour of National Bird Day, no matter how delicious quail might be.

Visit Unique Birds in Their Natural Habitats

Forgo the zoo and head on over to places where the birds actually live and thrive in their natural habitats. For some bird lovers, this could simply mean taking a walk in the forest with some bird watching glasses to spot some unique creatures.

For others, this might mean building an entire vacation to an exotic place to see tropical birds in their natural homes. Many different Eco-tour companies will offer limited viewing opportunities for those who want to travel around the world to see parrots in Guatemala, Tenerife, Belize, Honduras and more!

Help with Bird Conservation

Raising awareness, getting involved and making a donation are all ways that bird lovers can celebrate National Bird Day. Host a charity event or party to let friends and family enjoy an evening while learning about the important reasons behind National Bird Day. Get together for a meal, watch a documentary, and then let people know about these ways they can make a donation to these important support bird conservation efforts:

Indonesian Parrot Project Helping protect endangered parrots and cockatoos from trappers, smugglers, transporters and traders.

Hatched to Fly Free This organization works to breed and then release beautiful, colorful macaws in the nation of Costa Rica.

One Earth Conservation Empowering people to save the planet, this organization helps to educate and build programs to love nature, with a specific focus on parrots.

Visit the National Bird Day Website

There’s also a website at National Bird Day, for those who want to learn more about the folks who are actually promoting this day, this website is a great place to start. It’s filled with resources and information to educate adults and children about the difficulties faced by so many birds in captivity today.

Get Educated on the Risks of Bird Extinction

On a serious note, approximately 12 percent of the world’s bird species could face extinction in the next century, if things continue on as they have been. That includes nearly a third of the 330 different species of parrots.

Things don’t look a great deal better for numerous species of songbirds, not to mention some penguin species and others, like the kiwi bird. The largest components of these threats of extinction are habitat destruction and pet trade. A great idea for celebrating the day would be learning about all of the wonders of birds, then helping to educate friends and family members about their plight. Because the survival of the world’s birds hinges on public awareness as well as support for conservation efforts all over the world.

Source

[justforbooks]

On January 15, 2009, US Airways Flight 1549, an Airbus A320 on a flight from New York City's LaGuardia Airport to Charlotte, North Carolina, struck a flock of birds shortly after take-off, losing all engine power. Unable to reach any airport for an emergency landing, pilots Chesley Sullenberger and Jeffrey Skiles glided the plane to a ditching in the Hudson River off Midtown Manhattan. All 155 people on board were rescued by nearby boats, with a few serious injuries.

This water landing of a powerless jetliner became known as the "Miracle on the Hudson", and a National Transportation Safety Board official described it as "the most successful ditching in aviation history". The Board rejected the notion that the pilot could have avoided ditching by returning to LaGuardia or diverting to nearby Teterboro Airport.

The pilots and flight attendants were awarded the Master's Medal of the Guild of Air Pilots and Air Navigators in recognition of their "heroic and unique aviation achievement".

An NTSB board member called the ditching "the most successful ... in aviation history. These people knew what they were supposed to do and they did it and as a result, no lives were lost." New York State Governor David Paterson called the incident "a Miracle on the Hudson." U.S. President George W. Bush said he was "inspired by the skill and heroism of the flight crew," and praised the emergency responders and volunteers. President-elect Barack Obama said that everyone was proud of Sullenberger's "heroic and graceful job in landing the damaged aircraft." He thanked the crew, whom he invited to his inauguration five days later.

The Guild of Air Pilots and Air Navigators awarded the crew the rarely bestowed Master's Medal on January 22, 2009 for outstanding aviation achievement, at the discretion of the Master of the Guild. New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg presented the crew with the Keys to the City, and Sullenberger with a replacement copy of a library book lost on the flight, Sidney Dekker's Just Culture: Balancing Safety and Accountability. Rescuers received Certificates of Honor.

The crew received a standing ovation at the Super Bowl XLIII on February 1, 2009, and Sullenberger threw the ceremonial first pitch of the 2009 Major League Baseball season for the San Francisco Giants. His Giants jersey was inscribed with the name "Sully" and the number 155 – the count of people aboard the plane.

On July 28, passengers Dave Sanderson and Barry Leonard organized a thank you luncheon for emergency responders from Hudson County, New Jersey, on the shores of Palisades Medical Center in North Bergen, New Jersey, where 57 passengers had been brought following their rescue. Present were members of the U.S. Coast Guard, North Hudson Regional Fire and Rescue, NY Waterway Ferries, the American Red Cross, Weehawken Volunteer First Aid, the Weehawken Police Department, West New York E.M.S., North Bergen E.M.S., the Hudson County Office of Emergency Management, the New Jersey E.M.S. Task Force, the Guttenberg Police Department, McCabe Ambulance, the Harrison Police Department, and doctors and nurses who treated survivors.

Sullenberger was named Grand Marshal for the 2010 Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California.

In August 2010, aeronautical chart publisher Jeppesen issued a humorous approach plate titled "Hudson Miracle APCH," dedicated to the five crew of Flight 1549 and annotated "Presented with Pride and Gratitude from your friends at Jeppesen."

Sullenberger retired on March 3, 2010, after thirty years with US Airways and its predecessor, Pacific Southwest Airlines. At the end of his final flight he was reunited with Skiles and a number of the passengers from Flight 1549.

In December 2010, Sullenberger was appointed an Officer of France's Legion of Honour.

N106US, the accident aircraft, was moved to a salvage yard in New Jersey and put up for auction a week after the accident, but remained without takers for over two years. In 2011, it was purchased by the Carolinas Aviation Museum in Charlotte, North Carolina, and reassembled, minus the engines, in the museum's main hangar, where it is currently on display.

In 2013, the entire crew was inducted into the International Air & Space Hall of Fame at the San Diego Air & Space Museum.

The ditching was recorded by several closed-circuit television cameras. Television reports and documentaries produced soon afterward contained extensive video of the ditching and rescue, and recorded interviews with the aircrew, passengers, rescuers, and other key participants.

Sullenberger's 2009 memoir, Highest Duty: My Search for What Really Matters was adapted into a feature film Sully, directed by Clint Eastwood. It starred Tom Hanks as Sullenberger and Aaron Eckhart as co-pilot Jeff Skiles. It was released by Warner Bros. on September 9, 2016.

In May 2011, CBS News hired Sullenberger as an aviation and safety expert.

His second book, Making a Difference: Stories of Vision and Courage from America's Leaders, was published in May 2012. He was ranked second in Time's Top 100 Most Influential Heroes and Icons of 2009, after Michelle Obama.

In December 2018, he received the Tony Jannus Award for distinguished achievement in commercial air transportation.

Sullenberger's speech before Congress concerning U.S. civil aviation is featured in Michael Moore's 2009 documentary Capitalism: A Love Story.

Sullenberger is also referred to in the 2011 romantic comedy film Friends with Benefits. Throughout the film, Justin Timberlake's character repeatedly suggests to people he meets aboard planes that modern airplanes practically fly themselves, and that Sullenberger's feat was less impressive than it was portrayed, an idea for which he encounters incredulity and hostility. Mila Kunis' character is also seen reading Sullenberger's English Wikipedia article.

The 2010 song "A Real Hero", by French electronica artist College and the band Electric Youth, is about Captain Sullenberger and the Flight 1549 water landing. Frontman Austin Garrick was inspired to write the song by his grandfather, whose reference to Sullenberger as "a real human being and a real hero" became the song's refrain.

Radio personality Garrison Keillor wrote "Pilot Song: The Ballad of Chesley Sullenberger III" for the January 17, 2009 edition of his radio variety show A Prairie Home Companion.

Sullenberger appeared as himself in a cameo role in the 2017 film Daddy's Home 2.

"Hudson River Runway", the March 14, 2011, episode of the TV series Mayday, documents the events around Flight 1549's emergency landing, and contains interviews with several of its real-life participants. Captain Sullenberger is not interviewed in the show, but is portrayed in reenactments by actor Christopher Britton.

President George H. W. Bush's service dog Sully, who was assigned to Bush in mid-2018 after the death of Bush's wife Barbara, was named after Sullenberger.

Sully is featured in the pilot of the 2020 Fox cartoon series Duncanville.

Sullenberger was widely celebrated for landing the plane with no loss of life.

Jeffrey Bruce "Jeff" Skiles was flying as a First Officer on flight 1549 due to a staff reduction at US Airways; he had usually flown as Captain prior to the staff reduction and actually had slightly more flight hours than Sullenberger (though he had much less experience in the Airbus A320).

Both Skiles' parents were pilots during his childhood, and he became a pilot himself when he was just sixteen years old. He first worked flying cargo airplanes, and then worked for Midstate Airlines from 1983 to 1986, but at the time of the emergency landing he had been with US Airways for 23 years.

Atul Gawande, author of The Checklist Manifesto, asserted that the successful emergency landing relied on the cooperation of Sullenberger and Skiles. Gawande's central premise is that even really experienced people in any field encounter rare events, and that successfully coping with the rare event requires first the careful anticipation of future emergencies, and second, preparing a well thought-out list of steps to follow, in advance.

In his book Gawande reminded readers that, during an emergency, there are so many tasks to complete, that the co-pilot is working at least as hard as the pilot. Sullenberger had taken on the task of finding a safe place to land, and actually landing, leaving his experienced copilot Skiles the task of following the checklist to try to restart the jet engines. He noted that Skiles was able to complete the checklist in the less than three minute period between the bird strike and the landing, noting this was "something investigators later testified to be "very remarkable" in the time frame he had—and something they found difficult to replicate in simulation."

Skiles went on to become the Vice President of the Coalition of Airline Pilots Associations (CAPA) that represents the interests of 28,000 airline pilots in safety and security issues. In this role he was instrumental in the creation of the First Officer Qualification rule which significantly increased the requirements for training and experience of First Officers on the flight deck of US registered airliners. Skiles joined with the Families of Continental Flight 3407 and the National Air Disaster Alliance to mold the creation of and ensure passage of the Airline Safety Act of 2010. This sweeping legislation significantly improved safety in the US airline industry and as of 2020 there has not been even one fatality due to a US airline accident in over 10 years.

Skiles is a writer and since 2011 has published over 100 articles on safety and general interest aviation topics in nationally distributed magazines such as Sport Aviation, FLYING, Air & Space, PilotMAG, Midwest Flyer, Vintage Airplane, and the Physicians Executive Journal.

Jeffrey Bruce "Jeff" Skiles, as of 2020, is piloting Boeing 787 Dreamliners for American Airlines.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

12th May >> Mass Readings (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada)

Tuesday, Fifth Week of Eastertide 

   or 

Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs 

   or 

Saint Pancras, Martyr.

Tuesday, Fifth Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White)

First Reading

Acts of the Apostles 14:19-28

They gave an account of how God had opened the door of faith to the pagans

Some Jews arrived from Antioch and Iconium, and turned the people against the apostles. They stoned Paul and dragged him outside the town, thinking he was dead. The disciples came crowding round him but, as they did so, he stood up and went back to the town. The next day he and Barnabas went off to Derbe.

Having preached the Good News in that town and made a considerable number of disciples, they went back through Lystra and Iconium to Antioch. They put fresh heart into the disciples, encouraging them to persevere in the faith. ‘We all have to experience many hardships’ they said ‘before we enter the kingdom of God.’ In each of these churches they appointed elders, and with prayer and fasting they commended them to the Lord in whom they had come to believe.

They passed through Pisidia and reached Pamphylia. Then after proclaiming the word at Perga they went down to Attalia and from there sailed for Antioch, where they had originally been commended to the grace of God for the work they had now completed.

On their arrival they assembled the church and gave an account of all that God had done with them, and how he had opened the door of faith to the pagans. They stayed there with the disciples for some time.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 144(145):10-13a,21

R/ Your friends, O Lord, shall make known the glorious splendour of your reign.

or

R/ Alleluia!

All your creatures shall thank you, O Lord,

and your friends shall repeat their blessing.

They shall speak of the glory of your reign

and declare your might, O God,

to make known to men your mighty deeds

and the glorious splendour of your reign.

R/ Your friends, O Lord, shall make known the glorious splendour of your reign.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Yours is an everlasting kingdom;

your rule lasts from age to age.

R/ Your friends, O Lord, shall make known the glorious splendour of your reign.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Let me speak the praise of the Lord,

let all mankind bless his holy name

for ever, for ages unending.

R/ Your friends, O Lord, shall make known the glorious splendour of your reign.

or

R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation

cf. Luke 24:46,26

Alleluia, alleluia!

It was ordained that the Christ should suffer

and rise from the dead,

and so enter into his glory.

Alleluia!

Gospel

John 14:27-31

A peace the world cannot give is my gift to you

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘Peace I bequeath to you, my own peace I give you,

a peace the world cannot give,

this is my gift to you.

Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid.

You heard me say: I am going away, and shall return.

If you loved me you would have been glad to know that I am going to the Father,

for the Father is greater than I.

I have told you this now before it happens,

so that when it does happen you may believe.

I shall not talk with you any longer,

because the prince of this world is on his way.

He has no power over me,

but the world must be brought to know

that I love the Father

and that I am doing exactly what the Father told me.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

—————————

Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs 

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

Readings for the memorial

There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise.

First reading

Apocalypse 7:9-17

These martyrs have washed their robes white again in the blood of the Lamb

I, John, saw a huge number, impossible to count, of people from every nation, race, tribe and language; they were standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands. They shouted aloud, ‘Victory to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’ And all the angels who were standing in a circle round the throne, surrounding the elders and the four animals, prostrated themselves before the throne, and touched the ground with their foreheads, worshipping God with these words, ‘Amen. Praise and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honour and power and strength to our God for ever and ever. Amen.’

One of the elders then spoke, and asked me, ‘Do you know who these people are, dressed in white robes, and where they have come from?’ I answered him, ‘You can tell me, my lord.’ Then he said, ‘These are the people who have been through the great persecution, and because they have washed their robes white again in the blood of the Lamb, they now stand in front of God’s throne and serve him day and night in his sanctuary; and the One who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. They will never hunger or thirst again; neither the sun nor scorching wind will ever plague them, because the Lamb who is at the throne will be their shepherd and will lead them to springs of living water; and God will wipe away all tears from their eyes.’

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 123(124):2-5,7-8

Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

If the Lord had not been on our side

when men rose up against us,

then would they have swallowed us alive

when their anger was kindled.

Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Then would the waters have engulfed us,

the torrent gone over us;

over our head would have swept

the raging waters.

Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Indeed the snare has been broken

and we have escaped.

Our help is in the name of the Lord,

who made heaven and earth.

Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler.

Gospel Acclamation

Mt5:10

Alleluia, alleluia!

Happy those who are persecuted

in the cause of right,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 10:17-22

The Spirit of your Father will be speaking in you

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Beware of men: they will hand you over to sanhedrins and scourge you in their synagogues. You will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the pagans. But when they hand you over, do not worry about how to speak or what to say; what you are to say will be given to you when the time comes; because it is not you who will be speaking; the Spirit of your Father will be speaking in you.

‘Brother will betray brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise against their parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all men on account of my name; but the man who stands firm to the end will be saved.’

—————-

Saint Pancras, Martyr 

(Liturgical Colour: Red)

Readings for the memorial

There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise.

First reading

Apocalypse 19:1,5-9

Let us give praise to God, because this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb.

I, John, seemed to hear the great sound of a huge crowd in heaven, singing, ‘Alleluia! Victory and glory and power to our God!’

Then a voice came from the throne; it said, ‘Praise our God, you servants of his and all who, great or small, revere him’. And I seemed to hear the voices of a huge crowd, like the sound of the ocean or the great roar of thunder, answering, ‘Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God Almighty has begun; let us be glad and joyful and give praise to God, because this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb. His bride is ready, and she has been able to dress herself in dazzling white linen, because her linen is made of the good deeds of the saints.’

The angel said, ‘Write this: Happy are those who are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb.’

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 102(103):1-4,8-9,13-14,17-18

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord

all my being, bless his holy name.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord

and never forget all his blessings.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

It is he who forgives all your guilt,

who heals every one of your ills,

who redeems your life from the grave,

who crowns you with love and compassion.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

The Lord is compassion and love,

slow to anger and rich in mercy.

His wrath will come to an end;

he will not be angry for ever.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

As a father has compassion on his sons,

the Lord has pity on those who fear him;

for he knows of what we are made,

he remembers that we are dust.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

But the love of the Lord is everlasting

upon those who hold him in fear;

his justice reaches out to children’s children

when they keep his covenant in truth,

when they keep his will in their mind.

My soul, give thanks to the Lord.

Gospel Acclamation

Mt11:25

Alleluia, alleluia!

Blessed are you, Father,

Lord of heaven and earth,

for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom

to mere children.

Alleluia!

Gospel

Matthew 11:25-30

You have hidden these things from the wise and revealed them to little children

Jesus exclaimed, ‘I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, just as no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

‘Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.’

[dansnaturepictures]

Species appreciation post: The blue butterflies I have ever seen: Holly, Common, Adonis, Small, Brown Argus, Northern Brown Argus, Silver-studded and Chalkhill

After I did my last two species appreciation posts for Peregrine and Sparrowhawk earlier in the year I found they were my 17th and 18th of these posts since I began them as content to fill some gaps on my social media in 2015. I then had the idea for my 20th of them to be on Hen Harrier posting on Hen Harrier Day in August 2020. All being well I shall still do that but due to Covid-19 there may not be a Hen Harrier Day as such as I know its often gatherings of people coming out in support of the bird that mark it so it may just have to be one about it around when Hen Harrier Day would have been. But to do that I needed to do a 19th species appreciation post and I decided it would be of a dragonfly or butterfly. These days having so much more time on my hands in the week and at weekends due to the pandemic is a perfect time to do one, albeit this one will post on a day I have produced photos still and quite a few actually. I thought to add to the daytime tweet theme I’m in the middle of where I post one of my past butterfly pictures each day I’d do a mega butterfly species appreciation post about the eight species I have seen from what is probably my favourite family of butterflies. As part of this I did an album on Facebook with one picture I’d taken of all 46 butterfly species I’ve ever seen on Tuesday so this post (whilst it can be enjoyed by Twitter friends too) serves to bring my series of butterfly reflection inspired by the early season ones emerging on mass over these weird and at times difficult days lately to my three main nature/photography social media accounts.

So the blues are a family of butterflies like no other for me. Three of them sit on my list of favourite butterflies, and one more on my B list of favourite butterflies. You could argue most of my very best butterfly pictures have been of these species. And whilst generally blue isn’t my favourite colour I always adore seeing insects of these divine and varied shades of this colour. I’ve had a relationship with this family of butterflies like no other. Below I go through each of the eight blues I’ve seen in my life, roughly in order of when they might emerge in a season, saying as always in these posts why I like them, a brief bit about my journey with them and say which of my past pictures in this photoset are of the species.

Holly Blue

Very often one of the first few butterflies you see in a year and certainly they should be the first blue butterfly in a year the Holly Blue is one I find a delightful early or mid-spring treat of a sight. Their often closed wing appearance makes them very distinctive and I find them charming. They’re not one of my favourite butterflies but I’ve perhaps had a more intimate relationship with them than other blues given that I have seen them in our garden and during working days often so they’re very graspable to see. I hope that might prove the case this year where the lockdown is going to put me seeing most other blues at risk. I took the first picture in this photoset of one at St. Catherine’s Hill on Easter Sunday 2019.

Common Blue

Another that, rarely for me given I have lots of families on my list of favourite animals where I like one of the most common and then some rarer, is not one of my favourite butterflies. I still look forward to seeing them each year though. The name and status of the species always to me makes me think it should be one of the early/all season butterflies like Holly Blue is. However seeing your first Common Blue in a year is always exciting as you know spring is well and truly rooted and you’re approaching the late spring butterflies. It steps up your butterfly season to a stage where summer is near which I look forward to every year. The second picture in this photoset shows one I was happy to see at Martin Down last year. Since I’ve had blues on my list of favourite butterflies and indulged in some rarer ones I’ve made an effort to try and notice and enjoy Common Blues more both locally over Lakeside the country park near our house and further afield and last year my best ever butterfly season shows that a lot.

Adonis Blue

Onto the first of the blues that is on my list of 11 favourite butterflies added to that in summer 2015 and the Adonis Blue is a star of a species. I think they’re in a different league entirely looks wise to Common Blue as the Adonis sports an exotic and sparkling glow. Its rich colour that as I always say makes it seem like something you would see in a tropical rainforest is one of my main drawing points to it as well its distinctive and striking markings. I adore this species. It came into my life in 2013 and since I have grown fonder of it by the season, its risen to the top as one of the butterflies I aspire to see most every year. Martin Down has been one of a few strongholds for them for me and I took the third picture in this photoset of one there last year.

Small Blue

A very cute little butterfly to find I always think, I also love the way they are marked and how distinctive they are. It’s a key spring one for me to see ever since I saw my first at Afton Down on the Isle of Wight in 2013 and a gem of a butterfly I always look forward to in years. Martin Down one of my butterfly paradises is again a big place for them. Last year I missed it there on an initial May visit but did see it on a trip there the late May bank holiday Saturday where I took the fourth picture in this photoset of it and as the main butterfly species seen that day as the year tick I really focused on it nicely.

Brown Argus

Not the most obvious of blues but still part of the family all the same Brown Argus is one I’ve had an interesting journey with. Seeing my first few from 2014 onwards I rather had my Mum showing me them and never really learned how to ID them. But one night in 2018 changed that all when I spotted one during a Big Butterfly Count in July over Lakeside after work. I needed to see it and one or two other species to level my then previous highest ever butterfly year list total in 2014 (I went on to do that and beat it in 2018 and I surpassed the figure I reached then again last year of course). I first of all thought it was a Small Blue the only thing comparable to it for size in my opinion blue butterfly wise but when I noticed the closed wing marking resembled that of the Common Blue not holly in the case of the small I had to rethink. Brown Argus sprang to mind but I had to be absolutely sure it was going to me a big moment and butterfly to notch up that year for me and I determined my instinct was right for that amazing moment for me. It was quite a big butterfly to see at my local site I never knew they were there, I did see one in 2019 during the butterfly count there twice though. Since that night in a hot summer in 2018 I became so used to them and what they looked like and my relationship with them got stronger and stronger. I took maybe my best photo of butterflies last year of this beautiful and quaint little species. I just found myself having a real desire for them and finding them so attractive from how they look to where you find them in nice grassy habitats and I added the species to my B list of favourite butterflies in March. I took the fifth picture in this photoset of one at Old Winchester Hill later on in 2018.

Northern Brown Argus

I’d scarcely heard of a Northern Brown Argus until we headed to Northumberland for our June holiday to go to the Farne Islands last year. I sort of took mentions of it from my Mum with a pinch of salt as we went around Northumberland not really covering the right habitat for it, but seeing lots of butterflies such as the beginning of the mass Painted Lady invasion last year and Wall Brown. But as we pondered what to do with a free day, our last day away, we thought it was rude to be so close and not to visit Scotland. So my Mum found St. Abb’s Head on the internet and as soon as I googled it that night and read it was a site that had Northern Brown Argus something flashed and flickered in hope in my mind. It took us a while when at St. Abb’s Head as we passed the area marked that they are in with the sun in and out, on the way back it was warmed up and we’d seen Small Copper and other butterflies. We went to the same spot in this big beauty spot and our luck was in as two people were bent over looking at something. They showed us the butterfly, it was the tiny Northern Brown Argus and this was one of my greatest butterfly and general moments last year and of all time. What an honour to see a rare and exceptional species as beautiful, fascinating and charming as its cousin to the south. I took the sixth picture in this photoset of it that day in June 2019.

Silver-studded Blue

Unlike chalkhill, adonis, small and Brown Argus which I first ever saw during the rapid expansion of our butterfly life list and list of places to see them in 2013 and 2014 silver-studded it part of an older breed of my butterflies having first seen them in the New Forest in 2011 and enjoying them the next summer too. Since Silver-studded has become one of my favourite butterflies being added to that list also in 2015. They have become not just something to look for on New Forest heaths on hot summer’s days but the very symbol of the feeling of wilderness and connection with nature that can be attained on both. I love their delicate markings and shade, their dinky size and they make me so proud to live near and regularly visit the New Forest. I have seen some in Wales too. I have taken some of my best photos of them over the years, the seventh and eighth of my pictures in this photoset of one at Deadman Hill in the New Forest in 2015 and nearby Turf Hill in 2016. The former was one of the winners for me in the 2015 New Forest National Park authority seasonal snaps competition a proud moment representing one of the forest’s best species.

Chalkhill Blue

If seeing the silver-studded has made me so proud of Hampshire’s New Forest then this species has made me proud of its chalky grassland in and around the South Downs area. It’s one that favours brilliant and distinct habitat. The chalkhill is also an absolute gem of a butterfly. It’s silky and milky shade of blue is a dream to watch, and I love its strong markings too. Definitely a butterfly I always look forward to trying to see most in a year. As I said I saw for my first ever at Stockbridge Down in 2013 and whilst it joined my list of favourite butterflies a year later than the other two blues in 2016 I took it to my heart more and more each year I was lucky enough to see one. I took the ninth picture in this photoset of one of my first at Stockbridge Down in 2013 and tenth of one of many I saw last summer at a few similar locations at Old Winchester Hill.

[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 27

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

With the six of them, Appa’s saddle was crowded. True, the avatar sat on the beast’s head to guide him, but the rest had to be squashed among their supplies, which after the first day had been stacked up at the front of the saddle to offer them some protection from the wind. It was closer quarters than Zuko would have liked. He was all but buried between Sokka and Toph, whose nausea had yet to settle. Katara sat at the corner of his eye with her hair loose and blown back by the wind, with the chain of sea-wolf teeth braided into it like a coronet. She hugged her knees for most of the trip, and aside from the odd petty exchange with her brother, during the day with very little to do, she mostly kept her thoughts to herself. 

At first, he thought it a facade employed so she wouldn’t have to talk to him, but after a few days of watching her easy cheeriness in camp, he detected a forced note in her manners towards the others, as if she were humouring them – and none of them seemed to notice. Or perhaps, he decided as they swooped low over the countryside, they were so used to seeing this version of Katara that they didn’t realise it was an act. In the fire nation she had been clever, and cultured, and determined, and even though she had turned those talents against him – his blood still boiled to think about it – seeing her hide those parts of herself away left something unsettled in him, like seeing a delicate silk painting left out in the rain. 

Not that it mattered. She had avoided him ever since he had joined the group by the campfire. Her behaviour was fine with him, really, when there were so many other things to think about, such as his impending reunion with the Fire Lord, or how the combined weight of their group and their provisions meant the sky bison was flying slower than he should be on the winding, circuitous route they were taking towards the coast. 

The avatar, at least, seemed to agree with him.

“Guys, I don’t think Appa can take another day of flying like this,” he announced when they landed that night. “Not if we want to make it across the ocean.” 

“And we’re all so looking forward to that,” Toph grumbled as she carefully felt her way down the beast’s leg. “And eugh, we’re on sand. Of-sodding-course. Excuse me while I go and throw up.” 

The others climbed down from the saddle with varying degrees of stiffness after the long, cramped hours of flying. They had stopped on a crescent beach of greyish sand, surrounded on all sides by steep cliffs obscured at the top by vegetation. The dying light shone through the waves that curled onto the shore, and birds called to each other as they settled down to roost. 

Sokka rubbed feeling back into his legs. “If we dump most of the gear can we make up the time? We’re already three days behind schedule.” 

“Appa’s an animal, not a ship,” Aang replied. “You can’t just unload him and make him go faster. He gets tired.” 

���So do the rest of us, but if we don’t defeat the Fire Lord –” 

“Better to get to the Fire Nation late than not at all,” Suki interrupted. “And we might as well leave the camping stuff here anyway. There aren’t many places in the middle of the ocean to pitch a tent.” 

Sokka flashed her a goofy grin. “Good point. You’re so smart.” 

“I know,” she replied, brushing her fingers over the carved necklace at her throat. 

“I might go and join Toph in throwing up,” Katara muttered. 

“I’ll remember you said that when you start fawning over some brawny jerkbender,” her brother teased. “And then I’d have to knock him out, since you’re my sister and everything.” 

“You couldn’t knock out your back,” she snapped, cheeks darkening. She did not look at Zuko. “I’m going to catch us some dinner. If someone else could unload Appa and get a fire started that would be lovely.” 

A stunned silence fell as she marched away. 

“Hey Sokka, I think you said something,” Aang joked, when still nobody spoke. 

Sokka huffed. “Waterbenders. It’s probably something to do with the moon – ow! What was that for?” 

“Being a sexist pig-chicken,” Suki retorted, as she batted him on the arm. “‘I’ll have to knock him out’ – honestly. And that was before you started bringing moon cycles into it.” 

“Hey, it’s a big brother’s duty to defend a little sister’s honour. Prince Hothead!” he called, looking for support. “You’ve got a sister, right? Tell the mean lady it’s our job to be protective.” 

Zuko, who had already climbed back into Appa’s saddle and started untying the guide ropes, kept his voice carefully neutral as he answered. “If I ever tried to ‘protect’ Azula like that, she’d probably set me on fire. You should count yourself lucky.” 

“Yeesh. Your family has problems, buddy.” 

With a frown, Zuko turned back to his task. The light was nearly gone now, and though he could probably use his bending to see, the knots would be awkward to undo with only one hand. He paused to try and work out if he could approach them from another angle, but when he glanced up to shake his hair out of his eyes, all thought of knots and ropes went out of his head at the sight of Katara.  

She stood almost hip-deep in the sea, poised in a starting stance while the waves broke around her. As he watched, she lifted her hands and raised a column of water, then in a graceful turn drew a stream out from the mass that contained a sinuous, glittering mass – a young elephant koi, he realised. The creature struggled, twisting on itself to get back to the safety of the sea floor, but her power held it absolutely, and as she turned and brought it back to shore, the water flowed away from her legs like the falling petals of a flower. 

Someone shifted beside him; he hadn’t even heard Suki approach. 

“You were staring,” she said, offering a bland smile. 

He swallowed, and hoped the failing light hid the burn in his cheeks. “The first time I saw her bend, she sank three of my father’s warships by herself.” He glanced at the warrior as she let out an appreciative whistle. “I’ve never seen someone with that much control over their element, not even Azula. I was taught that firebending is superior to other kinds of bending, which was why we deserved to win the war, why we were winning. But it’s not true.” 

Until the words were spoken, he hadn’t recognised them. His frown deepened, thinking back to the past weeks at the temple, and the training sessions with his uncle in the early morning where nobody could see. The old man had chided him for forgetting his root, his breath, and had sighed at the predictability of his form. 

It is good to take wisdom from many different places, he had said. If we take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale. It is not the use of the four elements that makes the avatar so powerful, but his understanding of them.  

“I’ve found people from the Water Tribe tend to have that effect,” Suki replied, with a fond look over her shoulder. “Help me with this.” She set her hands to the knots, and Zuko, catching the idea, ignited a small flame in his palm to help her see. For a moment they worked in silence, until the main ropes holding their supplies went slack. Beneath them, Appa had started snoring. 

“When Sokka’s fleet first arrived in my village, we were neutral in the war. Avatar Kyoshi separated us from the mainland so we wouldn’t have to suffer outside conflict, and we tried our best to follow her example.” She smiled. “And then this young, hotheaded warrior limped his ship into my harbour, and I realised that by isolating ourselves, we were only waiting for the war to come to us, and the longer we waited, the worse it would be. Kyoshi would have kept the peace, and we dishonoured her memory by not trying to help, so we decided to leave the island and join the avatar.” 

“Our people think of honour differently,” he replied, scowling.  

“How so?” 

For an instant, he considered telling her everything, about his banishment and his cut hair and the sting of betrayal, but it would be an admission too far, a tenuous lie while the idea still churned in his mind that by bringing the avatar to the Fire Nation, his father’s approval was in his grasp. 

“We should have Toph bury what we don’t need,” he said instead. “The Fire Nation sends patrols out in airships and they’d spot it otherwise.” 

He was quiet for most of the next morning as they set out across the ocean. They had left everything on the beach but their weapons and just enough bundles of dried food to sustain them for the two days it would take to cross to the tail-tip of the Fire Nation archipelago, and with Appa fed on alfalfa mixed with high energy seeds, they were making good time. By early afternoon they saw the first Fire Navy ships low on the horizon, outliers for the main blockade. 

“We should’ve called in some of ours for a diversion,” Sokka grumbled as they passed overhead. “Do you think they saw us?” 

“Better to assume they have and expect the worst,” Zuko answered. 

Toph sighed from her place clinging to the edge of the saddle. “Excellent advice from the ray of sunshine. Can someone tell me what’s going on?” 

“We’re at the blockade,” Katara supplied. “And we have a plan. Take us down.” 

“Down?” 

But Aang only nodded. “Way ahead of you, Katara – Appa, yip-yip!” 

Groaning, the sky bison dipped towards the sea as the blockade appeared as a line of specks on the horizon. He gained momentum with broad sweeps of his tail until the wind streamed in their eyes. Behind them, a rocket screeched into the sky, exploding in a shower of sparks. The Fire Nation had seen them after all. 

“Uh, Katara...” 

“I’ve got this.” 

As Appa levelled out, pulling up just in time for his toes to skim the waves, Katara rose to her feet in a bending stance, twisting her feet so they rooted to the saddle, encased to the calf in ice. She reached out behind her, scooping mist from the surface of the water and fanning it so it billowed out before them, until only the lap of the water beneath Appa gave them any orientation at all. 

Zuko turned to Sokka, his expression grim. “The navy knows waterbenders use fog to hide their approach. They’ll know we’re coming.” 

As if on cue, a fireball exploded over their heads, lighting the fog with a flare of orange. Appa roared and swerved to dodge the missile, and scuffed up spray as his forequarter collided with a wave. 

“They would’ve seen us coming anyway,” Sokka replied, clinging to the saddle. Another fireball detonated, closer this time. “But this way, they won’t see where we’re going.” 

“Look out!” 

Suki’s shout came almost too late. The fog parted for a ball of flame headed straight for them. Katara twisted and threw an arm up with a spike of ice to catch it and the fireball smashed into it. The force of the impact broke her stance and sent her to her knees with a snarl.  

“Katara –” 

Shouts echoed through the fog, a whip-crack orders accompanied by the turning of gears and the soft whoosh of pitch igniting. Appa bellowed again and an instant later, he was drowned out by the telltale crunch of trebuchets being launched. 

“Katara, we have to dive!” Sokka yelled. 

“We can’t,” she shot back. “We won’t have enough air, and we can’t afford to surface too close in case they spot us.” 

“That won’t matter if we’re dead!” 

“Too late!”  

She braced herself as the fireballs tore through the air. Aang struggled to steer Appa with one hand, while his staff waited in the other like a bat ready to swing. Even with two of them, they could never hope to repel every one. Zuko saw this in slow motion, just like he saw the fog dissipating as Katara’s focus shifted to defence, sweat on her brow, and he saw the water swirling beneath them, and Toph’s blind eyes wide with fear knowing there was a threat and no way to react to it. He wasn’t aware of moving, of sliding into a stance, of summoning fire – not until it burst from his fists and shattered the oncoming projectiles like confetti. 

Katara stared at him. 

“Focus on keeping our cover,” he barked. “I’ll shoot any that come too close while the av– Aang steers us through the worst of it.” 

“I...” She blinked. “Right.” 

He turned away, scanning the air above them as she rooted herself once more, and then the mist drew in, enclosing them utterly. Aang wove a serpentine path just above the water, non-direct like his element, and without a clear target the Fire Nation ships floundered, spitting fireballs into the air at random more with the hope of hitting something than anything else. Only a few veered close enough to do damage, but Zuko shot them down. The foreign shouts grew louder. 

Something reared on their left side, a hulking shadow behind a wall of white, close enough that Appa had to roll sideways to avoid it. The movement was too steep, however, and he crashed into the water with an impact that rattled everyone aboard to their teeth. 

“Did we get something?” a nervous voice called from above. 

“I heard a splash!” 

Katara let go of the fog. “Now, Aang!” 

The avatar nodded and stood, matching her movements. Together, they swept arcs of water overhead, weaving it like a cocoon. Appa panicked as they sank, struggling at the unfamiliar suck on his limbs, and for an instant it seemed the bubble would burst. 

“Keep him calm,” Katara ground out, holding the weight of the water on one arm. 

“Easy, buddy. Everything’s going to be alright.” 

They went under. The world around them dimmed to murky shadows pressing close, distorted and silent through the screen of water as they passed under the blockade. Above them, the churn of rotor blades throbbed like a heartbeat until Katara, with a grim, satisfied smile, reached up and froze them solid. 

“Congratulations, Sweetness,” Toph groaned. “You’ve managed to make flying worse.” 

They kept on for what seemed like ages. Both Katara and Aang used their bending to help Appa power through the water, though they struggled to keep his natural buoyancy in check. The light filtering through from above painted shafts of crystalline blue onto the void around them, and into the occasional flash of scales as shoals of fish darted past. To look down was to be filled with an ominous sense of vertigo, but not in the same way as flying through the air. Then, at least, the eye had reference points and perspective to make sense of what it saw, but here there was nothing but a void of ever increasing darkness that loomed up to swallow anyone who stared at it for too long. Zuko pulled his eyes away, lightheaded, itching under the weight of it. 

“Katara...” he breathed. 

“Not now.” 

He shook his head. “Your nose is bleeding.” 

“I can handle it,” she snapped. 

But the others were drawing in too, their concern far more welcome than his alarm. 

Sokka placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “We should be far enough away now. As long as we don’t take off, we shouldn’t be seen.” 

“Appa’s fur is pretty waterlogged by now, I’m not sure he could take off,” Aang offered. 

“Who cares if we can fly?” Toph interrupted. “Has anyone else noticed we’re running out of air?” 

Faced with agreement from all sides, Katara nodded and changed her movements. At first there was little change, but gradually the water around them brightened, with rippled shadows taking definition as light became sky and the ocean fell away. Then, about ten feet from the surface, Appa realised what was happening and threw off Aang’s steady hand on the reins. He bellowed and surged upward with a stroke of his tail. The sudden movement was too much for Katara’s shaking legs. She collapsed to her knees, losing her hold on the bubble of air, and the weight of the water met the smack of force as they surfaced – it swept them away like leaves before a storm – and then the ringing in their ears bled into the disorienting screech of seabirds and a rough breeze that stung their faces like sandpaper. 

“Is everyone alright?” Sokka asked. 

There were murmurs of assent from various corners of the saddle, and a groan from Appa, shaking his head to clear the water from his eyes. 

“No sign of the Fire Nation,” Suki supplied. “We did it.” 

“Not until we reach land, we haven’t,” Toph reminded her. “Is Katara alright?” 

Sokka turned to find his sister sprawled with her legs stretched out in front of her, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers, with the clotted blood from her nosebleed still lingering on her upper lip. 

“I’m fine,” she said.  

Aang settled next to her. “That was almost avatar-level bending. I’m sorry I couldn’t help more.” 

“You were busy with Appa,” she replied. “We all saw how well it went when he panicked.” 

“He’s sorry too. Hey – you know what you need? One of the cinnamon buns Sifu Hotman packed for us! They should be –” He trailed off to find Zuko already handing him the waxed packet containing the sweet treats, and with a grin he turned back to Katara. 

“Thanks, Aang, but I’m feeling a little dizzy right now.” 

“That’s why you need to eat.” He rocked back on his heels and contorted his face into a scholarly, old-man expression complete with a stroke of an imaginary beard. “A master knows to master themselves before they can master the mastery of their element,” he told her in a wheezy but recognisable impression of Iroh. “And the most masterful way to master the self is to master your hunger, master Katara!” 

“If I didn’t know you better I’d swear you practiced that,” she managed, relenting as he waved the basket under her nose. The buns did smell delicious. “Fine. But you have to tell Appa to keep swimming.” 

“Deal!” 

“Thank you.” She glanced aside as she said this, but Zuko was facing away from her, towards the horizon ahead, and didn’t appear to notice her regard. 

[cassandra-acton]

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Cassandra Alice Acton.

Nickname: Cassie, Cass.

Birthday: November 8th, 1986.

Age: 31.

Gender: Female.

Place of Birth: Oxford, Oxfordshire, United Kingdom.

Places Lived Since: London, United Kingdom.

Current Residence: Tower Hamlets, London, United Kingdom.

Nationality: British. 

Parents: Michael and Anita Acton (née Redgrave)

Grandparents: Edward Acton (grandfather, paternal, deceased) Renske van Ardenne (grandmother, paternal) Harold Redgrave (grandfather, maternal, deceased)  Hélène de Broglie (grandmother, maternal, deceased) 

Aunts & Uncles: Kathleen Acton-Fortescue (aunt, paternal) Charlotte, Georgina Redgrave (aunts, maternal) Lambert Redgrave (uncle, maternal)

Number of Siblings: One older sister, Elizabeth Acton.

Relationship With Family: To be honest, she doesn’t really have a relationship with anyone except Elizabeth, and her mother tainted it so much that even that one isn’t healthy. It’s a shame, really. As much as she knows she’s better off without them, she still misses her father, in particular. Cassie definitely envies people who are close to their parents.

Happiest Memory: When Harrison proposed to her, without a doubt. I’ll write about it someday. Getting her internship at Goldman is definitely second, though.

Childhood Trauma: I mean the parents definitely fucked her up for life, so there’s that.

PHYSICAL:

Height: 5'4”

Weight: 120lbs.

Build: Slim but very fit.

Hair Color: Blonde.

Usual Hair Style: Whilst working, she almost always wears her hair up in a ponytail, but she hates it. Much prefers to have it down. Keeps it just a little longer than shoulder length because of her dislike of short hair. Is too lazy to style it beyond neatness unless she’s going somewhere.

Eye Color: Blue.

Glasses? Contacts?: Neither.

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): For work: neat, formal, and inexpensive. Lots of form-fitting skirts, blazers and blouses in blacks and whites. Out of work: a fuck load of jeans. Baggy jumpers and quirky shirts. Picks up a lot of her stuff from charity shops because who has time for fucking shopping.

Typical Style of Shoes: Cassie is never without heels. Prefers bright colours and eye-catching designs to contrast with her typically monochrome/ greyscale outfits during work. About the only part of her outfits she ever spends a decent amount of money on.

Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: The only piece of jewellery she constantly wears is her engagement ring, which she has on a chain around her neck. She has three tattoos. ‘Hip to be Square’ in tiny font on the inside of her right wrist, Harrison’s birthday on her left shoulder blade, and a matching tattoo she got with her friend, Jessica, back in school, on her right forearm. Each got a hand from The Creation of Adam. As for piercings, she has her left ear pierced twice, her right four times, as well as her bellybutton.

Scars: A thin scar that cuts through her right eyebrow; a result of a drunken night out in university during which one of her friends fell down the stairs, and dragged Cassie with her.

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: When she’s stressed, she has to play with her hair; pulling it, twisting it, whatever. It’s about the only good indicator she’s about to rip your face off because she will do that shit with a smile.

Athleticism: Very high. Cassandra naturally has a lot of energy, and so expends a lot of it keeping fit. Rowed competitively for LSE, and still competes regularly with many of the girls from her old crews, as well as having joined a new rowing club. She also plays a lot of rugby, though never competitively. Loves running and endurance, and almost always competes in the Tough Mudder when it’s nearby, as well as taking part in the London marathon annually. Also gets involved with a lot of charity races.

Health Problems/Illnesses: I think she seriously wavers into depression sometimes, though she’s far too proud to ever get it officially diagnosed. PCOS and all its friends, which is not a fun time. Does over attachment to her dog count? Definitely counts.

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: MSc in Economics and Management from LSE. Cassie finds studying relaxing, however, and often self-teaches about subjects of interest in her free time. Currently, she is working on a course in Arab Finance.

Languages Spoken: English natively, Dutch fluently. French and Mandarin intermediate. Is determined to take up learning Arabic at a later date.

Level of Self-Esteem: Very low. It’s why she aggressively overcompensates with an arrogant attitude. Partly to convince herself, but mostly to convince others.

Gifts/Talents: Surprisingly, she’s actually a pretty good violinist.

Mathematical?: Definitely. It’s sort of her thing. 100% could get a job on Countdown.

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: Usually, emotions, though she tends to berate herself afterward, because she knows—especially given the career she has now chosen to pursue—that she needs to learn to be more logical.

Life Philosophy: Someone else is happy with less than what you have.

Religious Stance: Was raised Anglican, but isn’t particularly religious.

Cautious or Daring?: Absolutely daring. Naturally, she’s a spontaneous person, and I     don’t think being cautious really lends to that.

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Being told she’s not good enough. Being criticised when it comes to her work. Being compared to her sister. People bringing up what happened to Harrison. Terrorism in general.

Optimist or Pessimist?: In between, leaning slightly toward the pessimistic side.

Extrovert or Introvert?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Current Relationship Status: In a relationship with Adam Hassan, Shadow Health Secretary, and MP for Bethnal Green & Bow.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual.

Past Relationships: Before Adam, the only person she’d ever been in a real relationship with was Harrison. They on-off dated their whole young lives. They briefly broke up when he joined the army and she went to university because they were worried about ‘distance’ but wound up missing each other too much for it to be a permanent thing. Dated one guy briefly, Matt, a few years after his death, but it scared her so much it took her until Adam to try again.

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: None.

Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: Not having moved on.

Ever Cheated?: No.

Been Cheated On: Not really. Unless you count that one time, by Harrison, when they were little kids. He kissed another girl on the playground because Cassie had been off school for a week. She pouted and promised she’d never date a boy ever again after that.

Level of Sexual Experience: Cassie’s slept with five people in her life, so limited-ish. Harrison, a brief fling during her first year of university, Matt, Silas, and Adam.

Story of First Kiss: His name was Richard and she only kissed him because all of the other girls wanted to.

Story of Loss of Virginity: The first time she and Harrison tried, they’d attempted to make it a ‘romantic evening’ that wound up being so awkward, they couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, it happened spontaneously at a school social after party.

A Social Person?: Absolutely. Even though she needs some time to herself every now and again to process all the shit that’s going on in her life, she couldn’t go any extended time without her friends. Cassie has to be in a pretty bad place to cut herself of from people.

Most Comfortable Around: Jessica, and her old work friends at Goldman—they’re the people she’s closest to, and are still like a family to her.

Oldest Friend: Jessica Mirzoyan, a friend she grew up with in Oxford that now also lives in London. She can’t remember a time in her life when Jessica wasn’t in it, they’ve known each other for so long. Basically a sister to her.

How Does She Think Others Perceive Her?: Cassie has an incredibly skewed view of what people think of her. She automatically assumes people think the worst. Look at her like she’s not good enough, just like her mother always did. I think that’s why she keeps most people at arm’s length, because she’s so scared of letting someone in only for them to wind up criticizing her.

How Do Others Actually Perceive Her?: Depends who you ask. Amongst the public she’s very popular for her honesty. Amongst her colleagues back at Goldman she’s respected as a professional cutthroat. As for her critics, they probably just see her as a stuck up bitch.

SECRETS:

Life Goals: To help as many people through her political and charitable work as possible. That’s really all she cares about. Personal goals seem fairly irrelevant to her right now. 

Dreams: To be happy again would be rather nice.

Greatest Fears: Polystyrene and spiders. Why do either of those things exist?

Most Ashamed Of: How bitter losing Harrison has made her. How she still hasn’t been able to get over the anger and the hurt it left her with.

Secret Hobbies: Cassie kind of loves to knit? It’s a good stress reliever when she’s too tired to go running. Not that she’d admit to it, mind you. She’s also not very good. All she can make are the really simple scarves.

Crimes Committed (Was she caught? Charged?): None.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?: Night owl. Begrudges being alive in the mornings.

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: Heavy sleeper.

Favorite Animal: Hedgehog.

Favorite Foods: Steak. Cheese and crackers. Orange jelly.

Least Favorite Food: Avocado.

Favorite Book: American Psycho – Bret Easton Ellis.

Least Favorite Book: The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Favorite Movie: Burn After Reading. Gladiator. Mars Attacks!

Least Favorite Movie: Shitty horrors in general.

Favorite Song: Mr. Roboto – Styx. If you play that to her, she doesn’t just sing along, she fucking performs it, okay. (Honourable mentions for The Boys Are Back In Town – Thin Lizzy, and What Is Love – Haddaway.)

Favorite Sport: Rugby. Cassie can get pretty shouty about rugby and is a very dedicated Saracens fan.

Coffee or Tea?: Tea.

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Neither, thank you. That stuff is nasty.

Type of Car She Drives: A dark green Mini Cooper.

Lefty or Righty?: Lefty.

Favorite Color: Pink.

Cusser?: Pretty badly, although she does well to hold her tongue in public most of the time. Has had a few slip-ups that made the headlines. Luckily the general opinion was that it made her seem more normal, and it went down pretty well with voters, if not her critics.

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Never used drugs. Occasionally smokes if she’s incredibly stressed and has been drinking. Drinks fairly regularly.

Biggest Regret: Letting her parents fuck her up so badly. Cassie wishes that she hadn’t taken it so much to heart, now that she knows better.

Pets: The love of her life, Brody the Corgi.

[insomniaacs]

Flashing Lights (part 1) - Benedict x reader

A/N: This is just something that has been stuck in my brain all week, and I had to get it out in order to move on with my requests... If you haven't watched the Graham Norton Show, I highly recommend you do because it is gold, especially the episodes featuring Ben seriously go watch it In any case, let me know what you think and wether or not I should write a part two... ;D

Summary: the reader and Benedict have been dating for a while, and she goes to the Graham Norton Show to promote a movie when she's presented with the most pleasant surprise...

Word count: 2347 Warnings: none

[Part 2] [Part 3]

"And without further ado, please welcome to the stage our first guest of the night, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!"

You heard your name being announced, followed by the loud cheers coming from the other room, and tried to ignore the anxiousness churning in your stomach. Your hands went to smooth out the already unwrinkled fabric of your skirt, and you checked yourself in the mirror one last time to make sure everything was in place.

God, you were so not ready for this.

Your feet carried you up the few steps that separated you from the crowd, and your eyes were momentarily blinded by the bright lights of the stage as you could only listen to the clapping and screaming coming from the audience.

You were really doing this... you were in the Graham Norton Show, and those people were clapping for you.

"Ah, there she is. Come up here!" Graham Norton himself was standing a few feet away from you with his trademark cheeky smile on his face, and you mimicked his expression, climbing the few steps to get to where he was.

"Well, hello there, sir," you said playfully, hugging him before he motioned for you to sit in the long red couch.

Your stomach leaped as you saw the packed audience in front of you, and you thought you might just faint at the prospect of so many people watching you, so you looked at Graham instead.

"So, (Y/N), this is actually your first time on the show!" Graham said with an easygoing tone to his voice, and you immediately felt more relaxed.

"Actually, this is my first talk show like... ever," you answered, and he gasped with a raise of his eyebrows.

Graham smiled. "Well, it's an honour to have you here with us," he sat more comfortably on his chair. "But do tell me, how does it feel to be nominated for best supporting actress at the Oscars at such a young age?" He asked, and you had to think about your answer.

Fame wasn't really something you thought you'd grow used to. You'd never even imagined you'd one day become recognized in the acting industry, let alone be nominated for such an important category at the Academy Awards or be invited to one of Britain's most well known talk shows.

You'd always wanted to be successful in Hollywood, that was for sure, but the thought that you'd actually made it was still completely overwhelming. You'd stared in plenty of small productions before, from TV commercials to national soap operas, but it wasn't until you were cast to play the lead role in a pretty large Hollywood production that you actually became known in the world of celebrities.

"Honestly? I have literally no idea how this happened," you chuckled along with Graham, feeling some of your anxiousness fade away. "One minute I was doing small jobs here and there, and the next I was walking red carpets and all that sort of stuff," you answered truthfully. "I think not even my family thought I'd make it this far," you joked.

"Well none of us did," he countered playfully, and the audience laughed with you. Once the laughter had died down, Graham eyed you seriously. "Well, and since we're talking about family, a little bird told me you've been seeing a certain someone..." he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks.

Trust the mention of him to get you all worked up.

"Oh, did it?" you asked, a small smile on your lips as you looked at the floor, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly.

Graham laughed his characteristic laugh, and you couldn't contain your own grin from spreading. "Tell me, (Y/N), how are things with Benedict?" As soon as his name left his lips, you felt your heart do a little loop inside your chest. You were sure you were blushing furiously now, but there was no use trying to hide it. The both of you had gone public with your relationship a few weeks earlier, after all.

The truth was Benedict and you had known each other for quite a while. You'd met at a play you both starred in together; an adaptation of one of Shakespeare's works. There had been an instant connection between you two, and you'd become friends right away.

He'd been dating at the time, so you'd known there was no chance of romance between you two even though there was something about him that made your insides melt; something oddly unique about the way he held himself that made you a complete mess around him.

For the two years that you'd been friends, that was strictly what you were. Until, that is, he decided to take a step further.

You remembered the night he confessed everything to you. His girlfriend had been out of the picture for a while, but you'd never even considered the possibility that he could also harbor any feelings for you, so when he'd spilled it all out after having a couple glasses of wine, you had been shocked to say the least.

There was something very Benedict about the way he'd stuttered, clearly trying to choose the best words to say to you that would convey what he was feeling. You'd sat on his couch the whole while, trying not to smile; dying to take him by the collar and just kiss him senseless, and that had been exactly what you'd done - after waiting for him to finish, of course, because that moment was just too precious for you to ruin; you wanted to remember it for the rest of your existence.

"Well, Graham," you began, because honestly, things were actually pretty great between you two. Much, much more than great, if you had a say in it. "We're doing fine..." you answered as shortly as you could while adverting his eyes, and Graham chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Ah, fine, yes," he said almost absentmindedly, his fingers drumming on the armrests of his chair. "You know, I actually have some pictures here to show the audience what 'fine' actually means, if you don't mind," Graham said with a little laugh, and you closed your eyes with a shake of your head.

"Oh, god..." you groaned, and prepared yourself for the worst.

Graham pointed to a screen near you, an image of you and Benedict popping up immediately. "So here we have you and your boyfriend at the British Independent Movie Awards, and you're, uh... sitting on his lap. I guess they'd run out of chairs, right? That was probably it," he said jokingly and you face palmed, because you were in fact sitting on Benedict's lap, his hands placed on your ribs dangerously close to your cleavage and his mouth almost touching the shell of your ear. There were whistles and shouting in the crowd, and you felt your cheeks burn.

"You know, I'm sure there's an innocent explanation to that," you said defensively, and Graham merely shot you a look before changing the image.

The next one showed you and Benedict in running clothes at the Hyde Park. The photo depicted a pretty normal setting around you, but you felt the embarrassment shoot right through you and settle on your face. You and Benedict were embracing each other closely, and you could see the sweat trickling down your forehead and his neck. But the worst of it was the fact that you two were kissing fervently, his hand holding your head and the other pulling you closer by the waist, and you were mortified upon realising that his tongue was just barely visible, the rest of it disappearing inside your mouth.

The crowd roared again, and you felt like running back to your dressing room in embarrassment.

You covered your face with your hands. "Oh, for fucks sake," you murmured lowly, because you had no recollection whatsoever of that moment, but there was no denying that it had happened as the screen clearly showed the both of you sticking your tongues in each other's mouths, completely oblivious to your surroundings.

"Oh, yes," Graham chuckled, his tone as playful as ever, "I'm sure there's an innocent explanation to this one as well." You were certain your whole face was of a deep crimson shade at that point, and you had a hard time looking into Graham's eyes. "I could go on, you know, but then I'm sure we're going to be stuck in here for a while," he smiled and you laughed freely. God, you were actually really good at embarrassing yourself on TV. "So, (Y/N), now that we've seen how well your relationship's going, let's talk about your upcoming birthday!" Graham clapped his hands excitedly, crossing his legs.

"Ah, yes. It's tomorrow, actually," the crowd clapped, and someone yelled 'happy birthday' from the back of the room, to which you mouthed a smiling 'thank you', grateful for the change of subject.

You weren't surprised in the least when Graham went back to the Benedict matter, though. "And do tell us what are your plans to celebrate it. From what we've seen, I'd say Benedict is great at giving presents," he said with an indiscreet wink and you blushed at the innuendo.

"Oh, I wish I could spend it with him, but we're probably not going to be able to see each other," you said sadly, and pursed your lips at the disappointed cries from the audience. "Yeah... we actually haven't seen each other in over a month, since he's still in America filming Doctor Strange," you revealed, and Graham put his hand over his heart with a soft 'Aww'.

"Well, then I've got just the thing to cheer you up," Graham said, and you looked at him confusedly. "I got you a birthday present," he smiled, and you felt your face brighten up.

"Oh my god, seriously? You shouldn't have," you said as he urged you to stand up right beside the couch.

"I probably shouldn't, but I have a feeling you'll like this one," he joked, and you laughed as he positioned you to face the crowd. "Okay, now close your eyes," Graham said, and you closed them feeling the excitement flutter in your stomach.

For a few moments, the room was completely quiet. You heard a few giggles here and there and there was a gasp in the crowd, but apart from that you couldn't really tell what was going on. Then, a pair of warm hands were placed on your shoulders, and you jumped slightly as you opened your eyes and turned around.

Your hands immediately went to cover your mouth, and for a moment you were left speechless.

"Happy birthday, love," his deep voice said lowly, and you felt your eyes water slightly.

Benedict was there in flesh and bone, his hands holding you dearly, and you didn't suppress the urge to pull him closer. "Oh my god," you exclaimed breathlessly in between the loud cheers of the crowd, wrapping your arms tightly around Benedict's tall frame. He returned your embrace in kind, feeling your beating heart against his chest. "Oh my god, you're really here," you said again, unable to believe what was happening. Benedict smiled that kind smile of his, pulling back slightly to look at your face before giving you a quick peck on the lips, making the audience go wild again.

"Oh, well, I guess I better be off now. Things are going to start heating up, everyone," Graham pretended to head off-stage, and you laughed as he returned to greet Benedict.

The two of you sat together on the couch, and Benedict made a show of sitting as close to you as possible, making everyone laugh. You wiped at your waterline, careful not to ruin your makeup, and the two men beside you chuckled together.

You looked at them with fake anger in your features. "You bastards!" You said crossing your arms. "You lied to me!" your hand slapped halfheartedly at Benedict's chest, and he merely laughed as he captured it in his.

The rest of the show was spent talking about your upcoming movies and projects. Other guests were invited to the stage, but you never left Benedict's side and he never let go of your hand. Eventually your eyes would meet, and you'd both smile at nothing and everything.

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest as you exited the stage, and when you finally reached the confines of your dressing room, you threw your arms around his shoulders again, breathing in his scent as he chuckled.

"Missed me that much, did you?" he asked, putting a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. Your eyes gleamed at the sight of the adorable wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled, and you nodded speechlessly.

God, you'd missed him so much. You had known the distance would be hard to cope with sometimes, and it was something you'd been willing to go through in order to be with him, but the past month had been torturous.

You looked up at Benedict with a small smile gracing your lips. Your hands sneaked around his neck, and you slowly pulled him down to a long kiss. His slight stubble grazed your cheeks, and you grinned at the feel of it. "What?" he asked pulling away, and your smile only widened.

"I love you," you replied in response, feeling giddy and warm on the inside. Benedict's eyes glinted, and he kissed a slow path from your cheeks to your forehead and then down to your neck. You giggled. "And thank you," you muttered, making him stop his ministrations to take a proper look at your face. You lifted your hand to touch his jaw, tracing a pattern all the way to his collar bone with the tip of your finger. This time you gave him a full blown grin. "Thank you for the best birthday present anyone could've ever given me."

[Masterlist] [Request list]

[robertmcangusgroup]

The Daily Thistle

The Daily Thistle – News From Scotland

Saturday 25th March 2017

"Madainn Mhath” …Fellow Scot, I hope the day brings joy to you…. Dark Clouds are scudding quickly across the sky this morning as Bella and I come out the door, smells like rain and the air feels damp, I would have used the word “Humid” but that to me implies warm and sticky and this morning it’s certainly not that, the wind is blowing from the North West and that means the wind will bring rain to Estepona… But at this moment I am not interested, just getting the walk completed without us both getting wet is at the forefront of my thoughts.. and coffee when I get home!.. So today Fellow Scot, Bella and I are going to complete our trip without the stargazing and satilitte watching that normally takes place, no Spielberg moments today with shooting stars rushing across the sky because I can’t see the stars but I can hear the rain drops splattering on the trees as we hurry back home, .. success, no matter how small, even not getting wet counts, it’s a victory, be it personal .. but never the less a victory, makes for a good day, you should try to remember that, it’s something positive that starts the day … I’ve used it all my life .. The Power of Positive Thinking and NO! I am not plugging Norman Vincent Peale who wrote a book of the same name, I’m talking about how I get through the day.. Days aren’t always fantastic, sometimes things suck, as Robbie Burn’s said “The best laid plans often go astray” that when I think positive and find good in the bad.. and march on.. maybe to victory and maybe to defeat… but at least I marched!

APOLOGY AFTER AIR AMBULANCE SENT TO SHETLAND INSTEAD OF ORKNEY…. NHS Grampian has apologised after an air ambulance meant to airlift a sick baby to Aberdeen was sent to Shetland instead of Orkney. The Orkney infant needed treatment in Aberdeen last Friday, however the fixed-wing air ambulance was sent to Shetland. The Scottish Ambulance Service said the patient was later safely transferred to Aberdeen. NHS Grampian said a member of staff had made an error. An NHS Grampian spokeswoman said: "Following an initial analysis of the timeline of last Friday's events, it is clear that a member of NHS Grampian staff made an error during the process of arranging transport. "This led to the Scottish Ambulance Service aircraft wrongly travelling to Shetland. "We must stress that this is an extremely unusual incident. We have seen nothing to suggest this was anything other than an isolated mistake. "NHS Grampian would like to apologise unreservedly to the family involved in this incident. "We would also wish to apologise to our colleagues in the Scottish Ambulance Service."

SHEEPDOG MISSING FOR 12 DAYS IS RESCUED FROM GORGE NEAR FORT WILLIAM…. A sheepdog that went missing 12 days ago has been rescued from a gorge. Nell the collie was spotted stuck down Monessie Gorge, at Roybridge near Fort William, by a person on a train that was passing on the nearby West Highland Line. Members of Lochaber Mountain Rescue Team used ropes to get down into the gorge on Thursday evening and rescued the cold and hungry dog. Team leader John Stevenson said: "The dog belongs to a local crofter." He added: "It is an older dog and retired from working and it had been missing for 12 days. "The gorge cannot be seen from the side of the road, but the driver or a passenger on a train passing on the nearby line saw the dog. "We were having a committee meeting at the time. We left that and headed for the gorge. "It is not deep, but you can only get down into it using ropes. "But it was a nice quick job. It was over in an hour, and provided a little bit of training for the team." He added: "The collie was a bit timid and took a bit of coaxing to come out from where it was. "I think it was glad to see us and the crofter was glad to have his dog back."

PARTNER OF SCOT HELD IN INDIAN JAIL RAISES SAFETY CONCERNS…. The partner of a Scot held in jail in India on firearms charges says she fears for his life. Billy Irving, from Connel, Argyll, was among 35 sailors and guards who were arrested on the anti-piracy ship MV Seaman Guard Ohio on 12 October 2013. His fiancée Yvonne MacHugh raised concerns about his safety after an alleged assault on another British man also being held in the prison. She told BBC Scotland: "Our men are good men. They are innocent." Former soldier Mr Irving is among six UK nationals arrested after the anti-piracy ship they were working on strayed into Indian waters without permission. The charges against them were later quashed but the men were unable to leave India while prosecutors pursued an appeal which was successful. They were subsequently jailed for five years. They have always denied any wrongdoing and their families have been campaigning tirelessly for their release. Earlier this month, relatives of John Armstrong claimed he had been taken by prison guards to a mental institute where he was drugged and beaten. Ms MacHugh, along with the Mr Armstrong's sister Joanne Thomlison, is meeting with officials from the Foreign Office and later with the High Commissioner of India to raise the matter.

UNDERBELLY WINS EDINBURGH WINTER FESTIVALS CONTRACT….  Underbelly has won the contract to produce Edinburgh's world-famous winter festivals for the next three years. Councillors agreed to award the tender for the city's Christmas and Hogmanay festivities to Underbelly, the operator of Edinburgh's Christmas since 2013. Unique Events has had the contract for Edinburgh's Hogmanay previously. In January City of Edinburgh Council said funding for Edinburgh's winter festivals had been cut by £450,000 with no money being allocated for Christmas. Ed Bartlam and Charlie Wood, of Underbelly, said: "We're absolutely delighted to have been given the opportunity to produce Edinburgh's Christmas and Hogmanay. "We've hugely enjoyed helping to develop Edinburgh's Christmas for the last four years and we couldn't be more excited about the next three years. "We're honoured to be building on the extraordinary work and success of Pete Irvine and Unique Events since the start of Edinburgh's Hogmanay. We look forward to announcing our plans for both events in due course. "We can however confidently say that our plans for both events are exciting and hugely ambitious and will see an expansion and growth of Edinburgh's Winter Festivals rather than any diminishing of them. Watch this space."

LASSIE COMES HOME AS OSPREYS REUNITE AT LOCH OF THE LOWES RESERVE…. A female osprey has reunited with her mate at the Scottish Wildlife Trust's Loch of the Lowes reserve in Perthshire. LF15, nicknamed "Lassie", touched down on Thursday afternoon to join her mate LM12, who arrived on 17 March. The charity said Lassie began rearranging her nest before the birds made their first attempts at mating. The pair, who can be watched on the reserve's live webcam, fledged three chicks in both 2015 and 2016. Charlotte Fleming, Perthshire ranger for the Scottish Wildlife Trust, said: "We knew it was LF15 as soon as she arrived. "She has unmistakable features including a prominent dark brown "Y" on the top of her head and quickly set to work rearranging her nest to her satisfaction." Ms Fleming said LM12, who has spent the last week fending off crows and creating a deep cup on the nest to hold this season's eggs, joined his mate within an hour. She said: "While it was a frosty reception with lots of shouting and mantling at first, it only took a matter of minutes for them to begin to mate."

On that note I will say that I hope you have enjoyed the news from Scotland today,

Our look at Scotland today is of four West Highland Terriers.. I can hear the Oh's and Ah's already....

A Sincere Thank You for your company and Thank You for your likes and comments I love them and always try to reply, so please keep them coming, it's always good fun, As is my custom, I will go and get myself another mug of "Colombian" Coffee and wish you a safe Saturday 25th March 2017 from my home on the southern coast of Spain, where the blue waters of the Alboran Sea washes the coast of Africa and Europe and the smell of the night blooming jasmine and Honeysuckle fills the air…and a crazy old guy and his dog Bella go out for a walk at 4:00 am…on the streets of Estepona…

All good stuff....But remember it’s a dangerous world we live in ….. Be safe out there…

Robert McAngus

[rabbitcruiser]

National Bird Day 

Don your binoculars to spy these feathered friends in the wild, contribute to conservation efforts or raise awareness of birds in captivity.

The world is filled with a plethora of different species of birds. From cardinals to doves, from parakeets to parrots. Different people have different relationships with the various species of birds. As such, one could easily imagine that there could actually be numerous National Bird Days in the world, serving different purposes and perhaps varying by region.

What this day refers to, however, is known as National Bird Day, observed primarily in the United States. This is a bit different from occasions such as International Migratory National Bird Day, World Migratory National Bird Day, National Bird Day (UK), and several other National Bird Days which do not follow the same etymology as “turkey day”.

It is also worth noting that each of these is named for those avian friends, not the late Senator Robert Byrd!

The ‘National’ term might be a bit deceptive here, since it’s not actually a national holiday in the United States. For a day to technically be a national holiday, an Act of Congress is required, and there is no evidence that has ever happened. That being said, this delightful day is still popularly known as National Bird Day, regardless of whatever Congress might think of that.

So get ready to learn about and celebrate National Bird Day!

History of National Bird Day

Back in 1894, Charles Almanzo Babcock, the superintendent of schools in Oil City, Pennsylvania, declared the first holiday in the United States to celebrate birds. Babcock was passionate about the idea of advancing bird conservation as a moral value and it seems that his idea for the day caught on. Babcock’s National Bird Day eventually turned into what is now known as International Migratory National Bird Day, which is celebrated in May.

That day is not actually related to this National Bird Day, though, in terms of history. This particular version of National Bird Day was created as it marked the end of the annual Christmas Bird Count in the mid-21st century.

National Bird Day has been dedicated at least in part to raising awareness about birds that are held in captivity. This day is a project of the Avian Welfare Coalition, which works hard to raise awareness for birds that are captured or produced in captivity for either profit or amusement of humans.

Presumably that includes Aunt Marjorie’s parrot, the penguins in the Columbus Zoo, and that turkey that made the ultimate sacrifice to grace the family’s dinner table for Thanksgiving back in November. After all, a holiday that marks the end of three weeks of focusing on wild birds that occurs during the Christmas Bird Count would appropriately focus some attention on captive birds.

The goal of the day is to educate folks on the destructive tendencies of the bird trade, the cruelty of bird breeding mills, and ideas for helping and improving the lives of birds that are already living in captivity.

How to Celebrate National Bird Day

Looking for ideas on how to celebrate National Bird Day? Well this list is a great way to begin. Try out some of these ideas or come up with some of your own:

Learn More About Birds

Birds are important for a variety of reasons. They are a valuable part of nature’s ecosystem. Many of them sing and quite a few of them even look pretty! Of course, many species of birds are also eaten by humans, but it does seem that it might be a little inappropriate to go quail hunting in honour of National Bird Day, no matter how delicious quail might be.

Visit Unique Birds in Their Natural Habitats

Forgo the zoo and head on over to places where the birds actually live and thrive in their natural habitats. For some bird lovers, this could simply mean taking a walk in the forest with some bird watching glasses to spot some unique creatures.

For others, this might mean building an entire vacation to an exotic place to see tropical birds in their natural homes. Many different Eco-tour companies will offer limited viewing opportunities for those who want to travel around the world to see parrots in Guatemala, Tenerife, Belize, Honduras and more!

Help with Bird Conservation

Raising awareness, getting involved and making a donation are all ways that bird lovers can celebrate National Bird Day. Host a charity event or party to let friends and family enjoy an evening while learning about the important reasons behind National Bird Day. Get together for a meal, watch a documentary, and then let people know about these ways they can make a donation to these important support bird conservation efforts:

Indonesian Parrot Project Helping protect endangered parrots and cockatoos from trappers, smugglers, transporters and traders.

Hatched to Fly Free This organization works to breed and then release beautiful, colorful macaws in the nation of Costa Rica.

One Earth Conservation Empowering people to save the planet, this organization helps to educate and build programs to love nature, with a specific focus on parrots.

Visit the National Bird Day Website

There’s also a website at National Bird Day, for those who want to learn more about the folks who are actually promoting this day, this website is a great place to start. It’s filled with resources and information to educate adults and children about the difficulties faced by so many birds in captivity today.

Get Educated on the Risks of Bird Extinction

On a serious note, approximately 12 percent of the world’s bird species could face extinction in the next century, if things continue on as they have been. That includes nearly a third of the 330 different species of parrots.

Things don’t look a great deal better for numerous species of songbirds, not to mention some penguin species and others, like the kiwi bird. The largest components of these threats of extinction are habitat destruction and pet trade. A great idea for celebrating the day would be learning about all of the wonders of birds, then helping to educate friends and family members about their plight. Because the survival of the world’s birds hinges on public awareness as well as support for conservation efforts all over the world.

Source

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

12th May >> Mass Readings (Except USA) 

for

Friday of the Fourth Week of Eastertide or Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs or Saint Pancras, Martyr

Friday of the Fourth Week of Eastertide

(Liturgical Colour: White) First Reading Acts of the Apostles 13:26-33 Paul stood up in the synagogue at Antioch in Pisidia, held up a hand for silence and began to speak:

   ‘My brothers, sons of Abraham’s race, and all you who fear God, this message of salvation is meant for you. What the people of Jerusalem and their rulers did, though they did not realise it, was in fact to fulfil the prophecies read on every sabbath. Though they found nothing to justify his death, they condemned him and asked Pilate to have him executed. When they had carried out everything that scripture foretells about him they took him down from the tree and buried him in a tomb. But God raised him from the dead, and for many days he appeared to those who had accompanied him from Galilee to Jerusalem: and it is these same companions of his who are now his witnesses before our people.    ‘We have come here to tell you the Good News. It was to our ancestors that God made the promise but it is to us, their children, that he has fulfilled it, by raising Jesus from the dead. As scripture says in the second psalm: You are my son: today I have become your father.’ The Word of the Lord. R/ Thanks be to God. Responsorial Psalm Psalm 2:6-11 R/ You are my Son. It is I who have begotten you this day. or R/ Alleluia! ‘It is I who have set up my king    on Zion, my holy mountain.’ I will announce the decree of the Lord: The Lord said to me: ‘You are my Son.    It is I who have begotten you this day. R/ You are my Son. It is I who have begotten you this day. or R/ Alleluia! ‘Ask and I shall bequeath you the nations,    put the ends of the earth in your possession. With a rod of iron you will break them,    shatter them like a potter’s jar.’ R/ You are my Son. It is I who have begotten you this day. or R/ Alleluia! Now, O kings, understand,    take warning, rulers of the earth; serve the Lord with awe    and trembling, pay him your homage. R/ You are my Son. It is I who have begotten you this day. or R/ Alleluia! Gospel Acclamation Colossians 3:1 Alleluia, alleluia! Since you have been brought back to true life with Christ, you must look for the things that are in heaven, where Christ is, sitting at God’s right hand. Alleluia! Or John 14:6 Alleluia, alleluia! I am the Way, the Truth and the Life, says the Lord; No one can come to the Father except through me. Alleluia! Gospel John 14:1-6 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God still, and trust in me. There are many rooms in my Father’s house; if there were not, I should have told you. I am going now to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you with me; so that where I am you may be too. You know the way to the place where I am going.’ Thomas said, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going, so how can we know the way?’ Jesus said: ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one can come to the Father except through me.’ The Gospel of the Lord. R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ. ---------------------

Saints Nereus and Achilleus, Martyrs

(Liturgical Colour: Red) First Reading Apocalypse 7:9-17 I, John, saw a huge number, impossible to count, of people from every nation, race, tribe and language; they were standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands. They shouted aloud, ‘Victory to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’ And all the angels who were standing in a circle round the throne, surrounding the elders and the four animals, prostrated themselves before the throne, and touched the ground with their foreheads, worshipping God with these words, ‘Amen. Praise and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honour and power and strength to our God for ever and ever. Amen.’    One of the elders then spoke, and asked me, ‘Do you know who these people are, dressed in white robes, and where they have come from?’ I answered him, ‘You can tell me, my lord.’ Then he said, ‘These are the people who have been through the great persecution, and because they have washed their robes white again in the blood of the Lamb, they now stand in front of God’s throne and serve him day and night in his sanctuary; and the One who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. They will never hunger or thirst again; neither the sun nor scorching wind will ever plague them, because the Lamb who is at the throne will be their shepherd and will lead them to springs of living water; and God will wipe away all tears from their eyes.’ The Word of the Lord. R/ Thanks be to God. Responsorial Psalm Psalm 123(124):2-5,7-8 R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler. If the Lord had not been on our side    when men rose up against us, then would they have swallowed us alive    when their anger was kindled. R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler. Then would the waters have engulfed us,    the torrent gone over us; over our head would have swept    the raging waters. R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler. Indeed the snare has been broken    and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the Lord,    who made heaven and earth. R/ Our life, like a bird, has escaped from the snare of the fowler. Gospel Acclamation Matthew 5:10 Alleluia, alleluia! Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Alleluia! Gospel Matthew 10:17-22 Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Beware of men: they will hand you over to sanhedrins and scourge you in their synagogues. You will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the pagans. But when they hand you over, do not worry about how to speak or what to say; what you are to say will be given to you when the time comes; because it is not you who will be speaking; the Spirit of your Father will be speaking in you.    ‘Brother will betray brother to death, and the father his child; children will rise against their parents and have them put to death. You will be hated by all men on account of my name; but the man who stands firm to the end will be saved.’ The Gospel of the Lord. R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ. ---------------------

Saint Pancras, Martyr

(Liturgical Colour: Red) First Reading Apocalypse 19:1,5-9 I, John, seemed to hear the great sound of a huge crowd in heaven, singing, ‘Alleluia! Victory and glory and power to our God!’    Then a voice came from the throne; it said, ‘Praise our God, you servants of his and all who, great or small, revere him’.And I seemed to hear the voices of a huge crowd, like the sound of the ocean or the great roar of thunder, answering, ‘Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God Almighty has begun; let us be glad and joyful and give praise to God, because this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb. His bride is ready, and she has been able to dress herself in dazzling white linen, because her linen is made of the good deeds of the saints.’    The angel said, ‘Write this: Happy are those who are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb.’ The Word of the Lord. R/ Thanks be to God. Responsorial Psalm Psalm 102(103):1-4,8-9,13-14,17-18 R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. My soul, give thanks to the Lord    all my being, bless his holy name. My soul, give thanks to the Lord    and never forget all his blessings. R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. It is he who forgives all your guilt,    who heals every one of your ills, who redeems your life from the grave,    who crowns you with love and compassion. R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. The Lord is compassion and love,    slow to anger and rich in mercy. His wrath will come to an end;    he will not be angry for ever. R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. As a father has compassion on his sons,    the Lord has pity on those who fear him; for he knows of what we are made,    he remembers that we are dust. R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. But the love of the Lord is everlasting    upon those who hold him in fear; his justice reaches out to children’s children    when they keep his covenant in truth,    when they keep his will in their mind. R/ My soul, give thanks to the Lord. Gospel Acclamation Matthew 11:25 Alleluia, alleluia! Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for revealing the mysteries of the kingdom to mere children. Alleluia! Gospel Matthew 11:25-30 Jesus exclaimed, ‘I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children. Yes, Father, for that is what it pleased you to do. Everything has been entrusted to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, just as no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.    ‘Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.’ The Gospel of the Lord. R/ Praise to you Lord Jesus Christ.

[dansnaturepictures]

7/8/22-Post 2 of 2: Fishlake Meadows and home

Following on from my previous post, we then today spent some time at Fishlake Meadows lakeside viewpoint this afternoon/evening to look for the Whiskered Tern. We didn’t see it but were kept entertained by mobile and showy Great White Egrets looking smashing in the sun. Always beautiful birds to see and there is an elegance about them in flight for large birds I think. It was nice to see one fish I took the fourth picture in this photoset of one with a fish in bill and fifth picture of it too. A surprise Mandarin Duck, Great Crested Grebes looking great, Great Tit and a few Long-tailed Tits close by and another Willow Warbler this weekend were other highlights. We also got splendid views of a bright Southern Hawker dragonfly parading over the water side vegetation which were precious moments.

There were a nice selection of butterflies in this area too especially getting great views of Green-veined White. Two Small White, a Green-veined White, a Red Admiral, Gatekeeper, Comma and Holly Blue made a pleasing last time of counting for the Big Butterfly Count this year for me, the survey ending similarly for me to how it did last year squeezing a count into a bird focused waterside location walk. It’s been a fantastic three weeks of counting with some submitted before I don’t know where the time has gone and I shall miss the survey. It was nice to compare my Lakeside and overall top five species this year to the national top five tonight with me adding up all the counts I’d done for a spreadsheet for personal use this weekend. Its been amazing to see how many counts were submitted towards the end a brilliant response and all the way through the count the take up has been so good. I ended up doing forty two counts this year counting eight hundred and twenty four butterflies in total which I’m pleased with.

Flower/plant wise it was nice to see some lovely bright orange balsam also known as jewelweed, orange jewelweed or touch-me-not a great shaped one that I recognized from seeing one at Bushy Park last September, bindweed, great willowherb, purple loosestrife, nettles and some yellow flowering a nice array of watery species here. Green leaves nicely close by and in the distance on different types of trees were lovely to see here too, with the water, distinctive dead trees of the reserve and nice views further afield looking smashing in the hot afternoon and sweet early evening sunlight. I took the first three, sixth and seventh pictures in this photoset of views and one of bright green leaves against a nice blue sky here today. At both Old Winchester Hill earlier and Fishlake Meadows we met some great people today and had some lovely chats including at Fishlake people we had met before which was nice. It was lovely to be outside for so much of today.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Fishlake Meadows: Five of my favourite birds the Great White Egret, Little Egret, Pochard with some females seen, Great Crested Grebe and Buzzard, one of my favourite butterflies the Red Admiral, one of my favourite dragonflies the Southern Hawker, Mallard, Mandarin Duck, possible Teal, Coot, lots of Lesser Black-backed and Black-headed Gulls, lovely Cormorant and Grey Heron seen well with two of the latter potentially squabbling, Greylag Goose, lots of Magpie and Woodpigeon, Blackbird, Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Willow Warbler, hirundine I believe House Martin seen well over the water, Green-veined White, Small White, Comma, Holly Blue, Gatekeeper and bees.

Before leaving for Old Winchester Hill and when home before going out again to Fishlake Meadows today I liked seeing a Hedgehog in the front garden which I took the eighth picture in this photoset of its been an honour to see and have so many visiting the back and front garden and locally lately. In fact this evening we had three Hedgehogs in the garden which I loved seeing and I got a photo of one the most I have seen in at once. I also enjoyed a sunlit rose bush in the front garden, bright green leaves in the hot sun outside, pink geraniums and orange which I took the ninth picture in this photoset of, red and yellow flowers on the balcony and Goldfinch looking stunning in the light on the balcony feeders too. I enjoyed seeing Collared Doves and a couple of Starlings mixed in lined up on the roof as we got back tonight getting an intimate moment with a Collared Dove which I took the tenth picture in this photoset of the second Sunday running I’ve taken a Collared Dove photo looking up from the back garden when home. I liked seeing a small moth on my window tonight with smashing evening sun and golden hour scenes in the strong sunshine and a few nice bits of red in the sky tonight. A very enjoyable day today with two great trips and bits at home bringing to an end another very enjoyable and relaxing wild and otherwise summer weekend. I hope you all have a good week.

Part 1 of today’s posts is here: https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/691960668939747328/7822-post-1-of-2-old-winchester-hill-this

[chriskarrtravelblog]

How to celebrate Christmas like Charles Dickens

Don’t be a Scrooge! Celebrate the spirit and former haunts of Charles Dickens, the Victorian author who shaped our vision of the modern festive season

On the evening of October 5 1843, Charles Dickens took his place on the stage of the Athenaeum in Manchester. The Athenaeum was a society for the “advancement and diffusion of knowledge”. It had been founded in 1837 to provide education and recreation for the working men and women of the city. However, thanks to a recent economic recession, the club was heavily in debt. Dickens was about to give a speech that, it was hoped, would help raise much-needed funds.

What few of that night’s audience would have realised was that Dickens himself was a troubled man. The author was 31 and, for the past seven years, the success of his books such as The Pickwick Papers, Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby had seen him rise to become, arguably, the second most famous Victorian, behind only the Queen herself. However, Dickens’ fortunes had taken a downturn in 1843. His latest work, Martin Chuzzlewit, had seen disappointing sales; his wife, Catherine, was pregnant with their fifth child; and he himself, just like the noble institution he was about to address, was heavily in debt.

Victorian watercolour Dickens’ Dream depicts the author in his Gad’s Hill Place study. Credit: Dickens Museum

But, as he rose to his feet that night, Dickens put his personal troubles behind him and, over the course of 12 or so minutes, dazzled his audience with a speech that extolled the virtues of the educational opportunities afforded by the Athenaeum (in a building that today houses part of Manchester Art Gallery).

His speech brought his audience to their feet and, with the applause still ringing in his ears, he headed back through the streets of the city to the house of his sister, Fanny, with whom he was staying. As he walked, an idea began to formulate; an idea for a book that, he hoped, might rescue his ailing fortunes. A book that would come out in time for, and be sold specifically for, Christmas.

What he could not have envisaged on that drizzly night in Manchester was that the book he was pondering was destined to have a massive impact on the way Western civilisation celebrated Christmas and would become the best known and beloved of all his works. For, it was on those dark streets of Manchester that the seed was sown for the second most famous Christmas story ever told: A Christmas Carol.

Dickens “plunged headlong” into what he termed his “little scheme”. By his own admission, it seized him “with a strange mastery” and, over the course of the six or so weeks it took him to complete the novella, he “wept and laughed, and wept again, and excited himself in a most extraordinary manner, in the composition; and thinking whereof, he walked about the black streets of London, 15 and 20 miles, many a night when all the sober folks had gone to bed”.

Amazingly, it is still possible to follow in his footsteps through some of the locations Dickens strolled as the story took shape. The author began the story in the snowy, fog-shrouded alleyways at the very heart of the City of London. Although he was vague about the exact location of Scrooge’s counting house he does tells us that it was in the shadow of the “ancient tower of a church, whose gruff old bell was always peeping slyly down at Scrooge out of a gothic window in the wall”.

St Michael, Cornhill in the City of London. Credit: DavidCC/Alamy

This description certainly fits the tower of the medieval church St Michael’s Cornhill and, since Bob Cratchit, having finally been allowed to head home “went down a slide on Cornhill, at the end of a lane of boys, 20 times, in honour of its being Christmas Eve…”, it has led many to deduce that it was one of the atmospheric old alleyways off Cornhill that Dickens had in mind for his miser’s place of work.

In one of these atmospheric backwaters, St Michael’s Alley, there still stands one of London’s least changed “Dickensian” hostelries, the George and Vulture – a place Dickens most certainly knew well and which he had already mentioned by name in Pickwick Papers. Some say this was the “melancholy tavern” in which Scrooge “took his melancholy dinner” as he made his way home on Christmas Eve. The interior of this atmospheric eatery can have changed little, if at all, since Dickens’ day. They continue to serve traditional English fare, while diners are watched over by a white marble bust of Charles Dickens, who gazes down from his window-ledge perch. Indeed, so indelibly linked is this old tavern with the memory of Dickens his descendants still pay it an annual visit to enjoy a family Christmas lunch.

Charles Dickens’ house in Bayham Street, London. Credit: Lebrecht Music and Arts Photo Library/Alamy Stock Photo

As Dickens walked the streets, some of the ghosts from his own past came crowding in and would find their way into the pages of the book. The Cratchits, for example, live in a small terraced house in Camden, north London, reminiscent of the house in Bayham Street in which the Dickens family had lived during Charles’ childhood when they had moved to London from Kent.

When the Ghost of Christmas Past led Scrooge back to his boyhood school where he wept to see his lonely younger self “reading near a feeble fire,” Dickens was, again, remembering his own childhood.

His description of Scrooge’s school as “a mansion of dull red brick, with a little weathercock-surmounted cupola, on the roof, and a bell hanging in it…” is unmistakably of Gad’s Hill Place, just outside Rochester – a house Dickens, as a boy of nine, had often passed on country walks with his father, who had urged him that, if he were to work hard, he “might some day come to live in it”. In fact, Dickens did buy the house in 1856 and it became his principle residence for the last 12 years of his life. Today it is an independent school.

Bob Cratchit carries Tiny Tim on his shoulder in an illustration of A Christmas Carol. Credit: Mary Evans Picture Library

Step by step the story took shape and, by the end of November 1843, Dickens laid to rest the spirits of past, present and future, and transformed his old miser into a man who “knew how to keep Christmas well”. Having penned the final immortal words “God bless us, every one”, Dickens took his pen and, with a flourish, he scrawled “The End”, underlining it three times for emphasis.

A Christmas Carol was published to almost universal acclaim on the 19 December 1843 and, by Christmas Eve, all 6,000 copies of the first print run had been sold, despite its hefty price tag of five shillings. Dickens friend and fellow novelist, William Makepeace Thackeray, declared it “a national benefit, and to every man or woman who reads it a personal kindness.” Another reviewer hailed Dickens as “the poet of the poor”.

People the world over began celebrating Christmas according to the blueprint laid out in its pages. Turkey became the staple meat at the Christmas table, since that was the bird the reformed Scrooge had sent to the Cratchits. There are even records of mill and factory owners, in both Britain and America, being moved to give their workforce Christmas Day off, and treating them to a turkey each, after having read the Carol.

The book captured the public imagination in a way none of Dickens’ other works had, or would, and it remains to this day his most cherished and best-known work. It is as much a part of Christmas as mince pies, turkey and decorated trees. Indeed, so important was Dickens’ contribution to revitalising and reviving the spirit of the season that he is often referred to, quite simply, as the man who invented Christmas. And, to think, it all began in Manchester.

  Planning your visit 

Charles Dickens Museum

The London home of the author at 48 Doughty Street now houses an archive of more than 100,000 items and stages regular exhibitions.

Manchester Art Gallery

This impressive city venue was formerly the Athenaeum, an intellectual society at which Dickens gave the 1843 speech that inspired him to write A Christmas Carol.

George and Vulture

Scrooge���s “melancholy dinner” was inspired by this pub off Lombard Street in the City of London, which still welcomes Dickens’ ancestors for Christmas dinner.

Dickens London Guided Walks

With a host of tours available every week, Richard Jones draws on almost 25 years’ experience to bring the author and his books to life on London’s streets.

Words by Richard Jones

  The post How to celebrate Christmas like Charles Dickens appeared first on Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture.

Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture https://www.britain-magazine.com/features/history/british-literature/how-to-celebrate-christmas-like-charles-dickens/

source https://coragemonik.wordpress.com/2019/11/26/how-to-celebrate-christmas-like-charles-dickens-2/

[bharatiyamedia-blog]

Donald Trump’s UK go to marked with jibes in opposition to Sadiq Khan, Meghan Markle; US president praises Boris Johnson amid Brexit chaos

http://tinyurl.com/y3gwbne6 London: Mixing pageantry and pugilism, President Donald Trump plunged into his long-delayed state go to to Britain on Monday, welcomed with smiles and a cannon salute by the royals however launching political insults at others in a time of turmoil for each nations within the deep, if lately strained, alliance. It was a whirlwind of pomp, circumstance and protest for Trump, who had lunch with Queen Elizabeth and tea with Prince Charles earlier than a grand state dinner at Buckingham Palace. The queen used her toast to emphasise the significance of worldwide establishments created by Britain, the US and different allies after World Warfare II, a delicate rebuttal to Trump, a critic of NATO and the UN. However a lot of the speak and the colorful photographs have been simply what the White Home needed to showcase Trump as a statesman whereas, again house, the race to succeed him — and speak of impeaching him — heated up. But Trump, ceaselessly a counter-puncher, instantly roiled diplomatic docility by tearing into London mayor Sadiq Khan. US president Donald Trump met the Queen on the primary day of his UK go to. AP The agenda for Trump’s weeklong European journey is usually ceremonial: Later this week come D-Day commemoration ceremonies on either side of the English Channel and his first presidential go to to Eire, which can embody a keep at his coastal golf membership. For many presidents, it will be a time to revel within the grandeur, constructing relations with heads of state and amassing photo-ops for marketing campaign advertisements and presidential libraries. However Trump has confirmed repeatedly he isn’t most presidents. With the journey already prone to being overshadowed by Britain’s Brexit turmoil, Trump unleashed a Twitter tirade after a newspaper column wherein London’s mayor stated he didn’t deserve red-carpet therapy and was “one of the vital egregious examples of a rising international menace” to liberal democracy from the far proper. ″@SadiqKhan, who by all accounts has accomplished a horrible job as Mayor of London, has been foolishly ‘nasty’ to the visiting President of the US, by far an important ally of the UK,” Trump wrote simply earlier than touchdown. “He’s a stone chilly loser who ought to concentrate on crime in London, not me.” Khan’s supporters have beforehand accused Trump of being racist in opposition to London’s first Muslim mayor. In the course of the palace welcome ceremony, Trump and Prince Charles inspected the Guard of Honor shaped by the Grenadier Guards sporting their conventional bearskin hats. Royal gun salutes have been fired from close by Inexperienced Park and from the Tower of London as a part of the pageantry accompanying an official state go to, one of many highest honours Britain can bestow on a international chief. However the US president arrived at a precarious second. There’s a contemporary spherical of impeachment fervour again house and uncertainty on this facet of the Atlantic. British prime minister Theresa Could has undergone months of political turmoil over Britain’s deliberate exit from the European Union, and French President Emmanuel Macron is predicted to make use of the 75th anniversary of the World Warfare II battle that turned the tide on the Western Entrance to name for strengthening multinational ties the US president has frayed. A way of deja vu rapidly unfold round London as Trump barrelled into the go to. A 12 months in the past, he additionally had taken intention at his hosts earlier than touchdown on English soil, blasting Could in an interview hours earlier than she hosted him for dinner. This time he has to this point spared Could, whom he’ll meet with on Tuesday, however he additionally has praised her rival, Boris Johnson, simply days earlier than Could steps down as Conservative chief on Friday for failing to safe a Brexit deal. “I believe Boris would do an excellent job. I believe he could be wonderful,” Trump informed The Solar. “I like him. I’ve all the time favored him. I don’t know that he’s going to be chosen, however I believe he’s an excellent man, a really proficient particular person.” It was not clear if that endorsement would assist or harm Johnson’s probabilities of turning into prime minister. Trump stated he could meet with Johnson this week. By no means shy about weighing in on different international locations’ affairs, Trump additionally informed the Sunday Instances that Britain ought to “stroll away” from Brexit talks and refuse to pay a 39 billion pound ($49 billion) divorce invoice if it doesn’t get higher phrases from the European Union. He stated he may meet with one other pro-Brexit politician, Nigel Farage, and claimed Farage must be given a task within the Brexit negotiations. After lunch with the queen, Trump was given a biography of Winston Churchill as a present — he’s a fan — and proven elements of the gathering at Buckingham Palace, together with an 18th-century map of New York, historic photographs of golf at St. Andrews and books about birds and George Washington. Westminster Abbey was subsequent, with a tour and second of silence on the tomb of the Unknown Warrior. As Trump crossed London, he was shadowed — at a distance — by demonstrators, who deliberate to fly once more an enormous balloon depicting the president as a child. He declared there was “nice love throughout” however the Faux Information would attempt to discover protests. As usually occurs when Trump travels abroad, norms have been shattered, together with when the president complained about his tv viewing choices within the international capital and urged individuals to punish CNN by boycotting its dad or mum firm, AT&T. In an interview with The Solar, Trump weighed in on the American-born Duchess of Sussex. The previous Meghan Markle, who gave start to a son in Could and won’t attend the week’s occasions, has been vital of Trump, and when a few of her feedback have been recited to him he informed the tabloid, “I didn’t know that she was nasty.” He stated later he thought Markle could be “excellent” as a royal and claimed he solely meant her feedback have been “nasty.” Trump will make his first presidential go to to Eire on Wednesday, spending two nights at his golf membership in Doonbeg, which sits above the Atlantic. After Dublin balked at holding a gathering within the metropolis, a deal was struck for Trump to fulfill Irish prime minister Leo Varadkar on the VIP lounge at Shannon Airport, hardly the grand setting normally afforded a gathering of world leaders. The centrepiece of the president’s European journey might be two days to mark the 75th anniversary of the 6 June, 1944, D-Day touchdown, seemingly the final important commemoration most veterans of the battle will see. The occasions will start in Portsmouth, England, the place the invasion was launched, after which transfer throughout the Channel to France, the place Allied forces started to recapture Western Europe from the Nazis. The day is often a heartfelt tribute to unity and sacrifice, outweighing any nationwide or political skirmish. However some on either side of the Atlantic are nervous about Trump, who has proven a willingness to inject partisanship into such moments. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) {if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function() {n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments)} ; if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)}(window,document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '259288058299626'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); (function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "http://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/all.js#xfbml=1&version=v2.9&appId=1117108234997285"; fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk')); window.fbAsyncInit = function () { FB.init({appId: '1117108234997285', version: 2.4, xfbml: true}); // *** here is my code *** if (typeof facebookInit == 'function') { facebookInit(); } }; (function () { var e = document.createElement('script'); e.src = document.location.protocol + '//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js'; e.async = true; document.getElementById('fb-root').appendChild(e); }()); function facebookInit() { console.log('Found FB: Loading comments.'); FB.XFBML.parse(); } Source link

[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 16

The Southern Water Tribe stood for a hundred years against the Fire Nation, indomitable until Sozin’s Comet tipped the balance in Fire Lord Ozai’s favour. Now, as planned, the South is decimated, Chief Hakoda is a puppet on his throne, and Princess Katara is a political prisoner held in the Fire Nation capital to ensure his good behaviour. But Ozai has little time to gloat. A vigilante masquerading as the Blue Spirit is causing unrest among the people, rebel ships still hound his navy, and right under his nose the South’s most powerful waterbender waits with the patience of ice to strike at the very heart of his empire and bring it crashing down.

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

Words: 5893 Pairing: Zuko x Katara Chapter Summary: The Fire Lord’s New Year party gets a bit more explosive than expected.

The nobles glittered under the lights. They fluttered through the courtyard like jewelled humming-bees, arrayed in brightly coloured silks shot through with golden threads that caught the flare of the fireworks popping at the distant edges of the sky. Every corner of the Fire Lord’s palace blazed in celebration of the New Year, making up for the dark of the new moon with paper lanterns that shone with characters for luck and prosperity, and wafts of perfume floated on the air from fluted vases of dusk roses in every shade from pale pink to scarlet to blazing, violet-hearted orange. Even used to the pomp and circumstance of the Fire Nation court as she was, Katara couldn’t help but stare at the luxury of her surroundings as she stepped out of her palanquin next to Bato. As she was getting ready, Hama had scolded Nila for making the purple and gold of her outfit too ostentatious, but judging by the golden calligraphy on the scrolls flanking the main gate, she would fit right in.

“Stop fussing,” Bato told her as she patted the arrangement of braids woven into her hair. He was also wrapped in layers of purple, the cloth dyed with pigment taken from polar lichen, all tied together with bright bands of gold that brought out the colour of his skin.

“I’m not fussing,” Katara said. “I’m just…”

The Third Fleet was on its way. She had to make it through the night, through the next few days, and then they would all be free.

“They’ll make it,” Bato reassured her. “And we’ll be ready when they do.”

Arm in arm, they strolled through into the plaza with the growing tide of nobles, making conversation with those who dealt with Bato during his days as the Water Tribe ambassador, and as more people arrived, they ended up separated, comfortable enough to go their separate ways and meet up at the feast later. The twinned, hunched forms of Li and Lo passed Katara briefly in the crowd, as did half a dozen other well-wishers, and she smiled and complimented all of them, wielding her politeness like a blade. It was just another exercise, like Hama’s teacups, a puzzle meant to stretch her mind and keep her sharp, and without Bato hovering over her shoulder, she could afford to be more daring to the Earth Kingdom dowagers who smirked behind their fans at her. Being cooped up behind her walls for the past few weeks was clearly making her reckless.

“You’re doing well.”

She turned to see Mai step out of the crowd, her dark robes dour under the lanterns, though when she moved, the lights caught the shapes of birds and leaves woven into the cloth in subtle shades of crimson and pink. Noticing the appraisal, Mai sighed and twitched her fingers over the fabric.

“My mother picked it. She’s over there in the cream silk, talking to Kaori and Xiuling, probably telling them how she came back from Omashu just to attend the feast. It’s a lie, though.”

“What do you mean?” Katara asked, alarmed by the sly expression Mai tilted her way.

“There’s been an uprising,” came the reply. “The rumours are that the avatar and the Southern rebels were involved. She’s here because my father wants the Fire Lord to send an army to take back the city.”

Katara’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“So Azula can’t catch you out, of course. I’ll see you later.”

Mai glided back towards her mother’s side with the same graceful, predatory walk that marked her apart from the rest of the crowd as much as her silence, her disinterested stare cautioning the other nobles to part before her – though they never acknowledged that they moved, and passed hesitant looks along in her wake. Katara tried to shrug away the nervous feeling the other young woman gave her, but it lingered nonetheless as she took a drink from one of the servants wandering through the crowd.

A rebellion in Omashu, huh? She sipped at her drink, tasting hibiscus and orange lychee and something with a bitter touch, like quinine but not quite. I didn’t realise they’d be moving already.

A gong crashed at the top of the dais that led into the palace proper. The milling conversation fizzled into silence, replaced by anticipation as Ozai appeared before his subjects, in full imperial regalia with Ursa, Zuko, and Azula behind him.

“Honoured guests!” he called, his voice projected across the space by the large drum set behind him on the steps. “Tonight we gather to celebrate the New Year, to count our victories, and our successes. The Fire Nation remains the shining example of civilisation in the world, a beacon to all who would embrace the warm light of progress. We have won great victories and reminded our enemies what it is to fear us, we have reasserted our strength over those who would cause our ruin. Now is the time for us enjoy ourselves, to relax, and to welcome in a year of even greater fortune and strength!”

As the Fire Lord descended among the nobility, Katara closed her eyes and concentrated on the taste of her drink, using the rim of her glass to hide the sardonic curl of her lip as she thought of the fleet of Water Tribe ships, borne at this very moment towards the shores of the archipelago. First they would rescue the rest of the Southern waterbenders, then she would swap the face of the Painted Lady for the battle mask of her title, and then they would bring this whole, glittering, rotten place crashing to the ground, and she would deal Ozai a cut deeper and deadlier than the one she had been able to land on the day of Sozin’s Comet.

She decided not to think about Zuko, or what their plan would mean for him. He caught her eye across the heads of the nobles that parted to let the royal family lead the way to the banqueting hall, but in the presence of his family, with Azula and Ozai watching, he dared nothing more. She offered him a smile anyway, and stretched her hand up to where a carved jade hair comb nestled among her braids – a gift from him.

Bato appeared at her side again. “That was an enlightening little speech, don’t you think?” he checked.

“Very eloquent,” she agreed. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Hmph. We’d best get moving.”

They followed the crowd from the plaza into a high-ceilinged room with broad, red-painted columns, where servants waited to usher each guest to their assigned seat on tables set around a broad, open space in the centre of the hall. The open walls, with slides drawn back to let in the evening fragrance of the gardens, made the space seem even bigger, though more comforting without the glare of the myriad lanterns outside. Katara seated herself on a plush scarlet cushion next to Bato. The others on their table were merchants and diplomats from the Earth Kingdom.

“This your first New Year?” asked an older man from the other side of the table. She recognised him as Wen Bao, a coal merchant who did good business with the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom. “You’re in for a treat. The food is the best I ever had – and as you can see, I’ve had a good sampling!” He laughed and patted the round belly under his layers of green silk. “I might have to write a letter to Lord Ozai’s steward, mind. This wine has an odd aftertaste. Must be the late rains.”

Katara smiled and glanced over at the place settings, the gilded chopsticks and the plates and the empty space where the imperial dishes would be placed. “What’s the paper and ink for?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s simple,” Wen Bao chuckled, pulling a strip of paper and a wetted inkbrush towards him out of the pile. “There are so many friends here, and not all of them will have time to talk before the night is over, so a tradition arose to send good wishes on pieces of paper instead.” As Katara watched, he painted a set of characters onto the paper, then folded it up into the elegant shape of a black crane and beckoned a servant over to take it. “Of course,” he added, “a lot of youngsters have found other uses for these over the years. I’m a bit past that now.”

A throat cleared behind Katara.

“A message of good will for you, my lady,” the page said, offering a lacquered tray with two folded pieces of paper on it, before turning to Bato. “And one for you also, my lord.”

With a wry glance at each other, Katara and Bato opened the messages sent their way. She recognised Zuko’s handwriting immediately.

I’m glad the hair ornament suits you so well. It’s lucky I listen to my mother’s taste in matters of fashion.

She turned to Bato, a joke on her tongue, but it stalled there when she caught the look on his face. His gaze was turned wistfully towards the royal table, where Ozai sat with his family and their closest retainers. Ursa was turned away from them, a clear glass chalice raised to her lips, but in the warm glow of the lanterns, her faced looked more flushed than usual.

“Bato…?” How had she not realised before?

He turned at the sound of her voice, and coughed when he realised he’d been caught. “Not here – and don’t give me that look. There’s nothing any of us can do, not until this is over at least.”

“Does she know?” Katara demanded in a hiss, in their own language.

“Does your prince?”

She scowled down at her plate, hating the way she felt her cheeks heat.

“Listen, Katara,” he sighed. “The old general might warn you away from him, tell you to focus on the plan, but it’s been too long since she went outside our city walls. Take advice from a soldier who knows you should find happiness while you can. The world has a short enough supply of it.”

“Even if I know it won’t – can’t – lead to anything?”

To her surprise, Bato laughed. “Did you know, your dad used to have a real sweet tooth. When we were young, nothing could stop him getting at the red taro cakes – I think he saw Gran-gran’s traps as a challenge, and if she tried to double bluff him and leave them open, he’d take them anyway. The point is, he once ate so many he got stomach cramps, and smug runt that I was back then, I asked him if he regretted it.”

“Did he?” she asked.

“Of course he did – he was writhing in agony when I found him. But he said he would have regretted not doing it, too, and if he’d done that, he wouldn’t have got to eat the cakes.”

Katara pushed back the stab of homesickness the image brought, and took a sip of her drink. “That does sound like Dad.”

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Wen Bao enquired jovially from his seat. “I do love a good intrigue.”

“No intrigue, I’m afraid,” Bato replied. “Just giving some life advice.”

“And sorely needed, it seems,” the Earth Kingdom merchant replied, tugging pensively at his beard. “My advice would be to write to this sweetheart of yours, whoever he is. Tonight is the night for it.”

Katara flushed again. “What makes you think I have a sweetheart?”

“What else could make such a lovely young woman as yourself so melancholy?” he answered, tipping her a broad wink. “Or if I’m wrong, then perhaps you can put off your sorrows for just a few hours – the food is here!”

It took nearly ten minutes for all the dishes to arrive. Hundreds of platters were carried in from a door at the far end of the hall in the hands of a small army of servants, the savoury aromas of roasted meat and herbs carried with them. The ostentatious, spicy dishes native to the Fire Nation were to be expected, but Katara also recognised the fine slices of Earth Kingdom tudou si and niang dofu, and among everything else, a few dishes that were more intimately familiar to her.

There are sea prunes here – real sea prunes! she wrote to Zuko.

The chefs like trying new things, and we are allies – Azula’s eaten three already but I haven’t told her they come from the South Pole.

She was halfway through loading her plate when she got the reply, and smirked, dropping her chopsticks delicately against the small mountain of food to take up her pen again. You probably shouldn’t tell her at all. It might be better for your health.

I think you’re right. Make sure you eat some of the fish in red sauce. It’s lucky for New Year, and it goes well with the egg rice. He grinned at her from the royal table, just for an instant when his father couldn’t see before he turned away to talk to the woman in general’s armour on his left.

What happens to all the food that doesn’t get eaten? And what’s the big space for in the centre of the hall?

Wait and see. But I don’t know about the food, I’ve never asked.

She frowned at that, disappointed but not surprised. Whenever there had been a feast at home, the preparation of the food and its eating was shared by everyone, and leftovers were never truly wasted. Still, she had learned enough from her time in the Fire Nation to know the royal servants took pride in providing delicious food in greater quantities than their charges could handle, and that refusing to eat from a misplaced sense of equality would be a great insult, both to the servants themselves, and the master they represented. She had little choice but to pile her plate high, taking a bit of everything within her reach, including the fish dish Zuko recommended.

Finally, the last of the servers retreated through the kitchen doors, leaving the tables all but groaning under the weight of food. The hall filled with chatter and the distant pops of commoners’ fireworks as people ate their fill. Only pages flitted between the tables, passing luck notes between friends and enemies alike, and as the wine flowed more freely, the greetings were folded into ever more elaborate, sloppier shapes. Katara received enough to surprise her, and spent too much time trying to work out the identities of all the well-wishers to even think about writing back to most of them.

“Wen Bao, who’s Lord Beifong?”

“Over there, the nervous-looking fellow in the green and gold,” her new friend replied around a mouthful of dumpling. He was one of the few still eating. “It’s his first time being invited despite having tried to get His Majesty in his holdings for years, so no wonder. He’s the one who brought the entertainment tonight.”

“Entertainment?”

The lights dimmed. An anticipatory thrum rippled through the assembled guests as servants clad in black padded in to close the shutters in the walls.

“What –?” Bato started to ask, but before the word was even out of his mouth, a yell went up from somewhere in the darkness.

Two pillars of sparks shot up into the ceiling beams at the far end of the hall. Smoke billowed, and through it leaped a golden lion-bear, gaping its red-silk mouth wide to the crash of unseen cymbals and drums. Despite herself, Katara gasped. The acrobats inside the costume pranced and played through the open space in between the tables, shaking the tasselled mane on the paper head in time to the beat like a real animal might. The sparkler light bounced off the beads sewn into its back, the great eyes blinked, the music came faster as it roared, halted, reared onto its back legs. Katara wondered how heavy the head must be, but the performer in the back of the costume tossed their partner forward like they weighed nothing at all, and the lion leaped again.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Wen Bao asked her over the music.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she replied.

The drums beat faster now, the cymbals had lost their rhythm and shivered in time with the lion. With one last final roar, it lunged forward into a graceful bow before the Fire Lord’s seat and froze when the beat that sustained it ceased. In its place, a solitary flute quavered, and through the shadows at the end of the hall a parade of dancers stepped with streaming ribbons or juggling balls, followed by acrobats who danced with twisting shapes made out of their own firebending. The spectacle spilled out over the floor, the performers making sure to show off to everyone in the room, not just the Fire Lord, and in the distraction they provided, the servants returned to clear away the plates.

A young man with shaggy hair and a pair of hooked swords strapped across his back stepped out in front of the dancers once the servants had retreated, and bowed to the Fire Lord. The music once again tapered into silence.

“And now,” he announced to the room, “All the way from the Earth Kingdom, we are proud to present the Gaipan Fighters for your enjoyment.”

He bowed again and turned to face two more warriors dressed in the same green-dyed leather, one a towering giant and the other younger, slender, with a mass of brown hair and streaks of red paint across her face. A gong clanged and the three of them settled into starting stances, the girl drawing daggers from her belt, the youth who had announced them with his twin swords. The giant held no weapons at all.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ozai demanded when the silence stretched. “Begin!”

The leader was the first to move. He dashed across the space, swiping his swords for the girl with the daggers – there was a gasp from the nobles – but she dodged away, then turned and met her opponent in a flash of sparks. They darted back and forth to the awe of the crowd, a battle that went three ways, an exhibition of skill that wouldn’t have been out of place in the elite corps of the Southern Water Tribe Army. Their footwork was faultless, and Katara watched as each one used their own strengths against the other two.

Something nagged at her.

The three fighters held back. It might be expected if they were friends wary of hurting each other, but there was a distracted tension in their movements that couldn’t be accounted for, and as she realised this she noticed too that the fight was edging closer to the royal dais. Suspicious, she stretched her qi out for water, to have it at hand just in case – and felt nothing.

She gripped Bato’s wrist, unsurprised by the grim expression on his face, or the stiffness in his muscles. Warriors survived as long as he did only by having good instincts.

“What is it?” he asked in a low voice.

“My bending’s gone.”

“But they don’t –”

“The wine,” she whispered. “They must have put something in the wine. That’s why it tasted bitter. They’re not after me, it’s –”

The sound of a bird call rang through the hall. A signal, Katara realised, as the world slowed. The dagger girl ran at the giant and jumped. He caught her foot and flung her into the air, twisting, perfectly balanced, blades flashing. Katara’s gaze snapped to Ozai as the dagger left the girl’s hand and flew straight for his head.

Only lightning reflexes saved him. The screams of the nobles echoed as the girl landed and rolled into a crouch behind the youth with the swords, and for a moment the scene froze, and all Katara could see was the look of shock on the Fire Lord’s face, the same one she had seen when she gave him the scar on his cheek. Outrage, maybe a trace of fear. And she didn’t have her bending.

Ozai began to laugh. It grew from a low chuckle into a sound as cold as the crack of sea ice. “Did you think that would work, little assassins? Did you think you would succeed?” He stood, gigantic next to the low table. “I will burn you to a crisp myself.”

The three fighters stood defiant. Katara wondered where the guards were, but given the Fire Lord’s callousness, it was likely they were keeping out of the way of stray blasts of fire. She fisted her hand in her skirt, unable to turn her head away as Ozai drew his arm back, remembering the last, awful time, the stench of burning meat and hair…

Nothing.

Ozai punched again, his face a mask of disbelief, but only the thinnest wisp of flame spewed from his knuckles.

The boy with the swords laughed. “Having a bit of trouble there? We put a little something in your drinks to screw with your qi. You’ve got no bending. None of you,” he added, when Zuko and Azula started to rise.

“You’ll pay for this,” the princess spat. “Guards!”

“They won’t be bothering us,” came the casual reply. A smile twisted the boy’s mouth.

Ozai, raising a hand to forestall any retaliation from either of his children, regarded his opponent with detached amusement. “Such arrogance from an Earth Kingdom peasant. Who do you think you are?”

The boy straightened. “My name is Jet,” he declared. “And these are my Freedom Fighters, Smellerbee and Pipsqueak. We’re here to repay the Fire Nation for the atrocities committed against the Earth Kingdom, the Water Tribes, and everyone else you’ve decided to step on over the years. We watched our homes burn, our families get killed, and we won’t stand for your tyranny anymore!”

“How amusing,” Ozai purred. “And you thought this demonstration would could stop a century of progress? I will so enjoy watching your execution.”

“Oh I’m not finished yet,” Jet snarled. “Once I’m through with you, I’ll make sure this is a celebration the people of the Fire Nation won’t ever forget. It’s going to be an explosive New Year.”

Bato laid his hand over Katara’s, feeling her itch to move, to intervene. “Wait,” he muttered. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

“You want to set the world on fire?” Jet shouted, gesturing around the room full of elegant fittings and gold paid for in blood. “How about we start right here?”

An arrow hissed out of the darkness, between his outstretched arms. At first, Katara thought it missed its mark, but then flames began to spread from the arrow’s tip, along the path of the liquor spilled from the cup it knocked over. The silk strands of the carpet caught, licked at the varnished boards beneath it, but the Fire Lord didn’t move, so his guests checked their impulse to flee.

Jet laughed. “What’s wrong, Your Highness, can’t stand the heat?”

Still without moving, with the firelight dancing in the shadows of his eyes, Ozai gestured to Azula and Zuko, poised on either side of him like polar bear-dogs on the scent of prey.

“Bring me his head.”

They both lunged over the table at Jet, forcing him back, but the hooked swords flashed out, and they were driven back. The other two fighters closed in.

“We have to get everyone out!” Bato shouted, fighting to be heard over the noise of panicking nobles.

Katara tore her gaze away from Zuko. Absorbed as she was, she hadn’t seen Ozai disappear from the hall with Ursa, but with the Fire Lord’s departure, the spell of terror that held the banquet guests in their places had snapped, and there was panic on every side. More flaming arrows shot down from the rafters. People screamed. As the flames spread, a dull thought crept through Katara’s head, wondering why the Fire Nation of all places wasn’t more flame-resistant, but she saw the young inferno roar as it caught the lacquer on the nearest pillar and leapt towards the roof.

“The garden,” she said, turning to Bato. “The courtyard isn’t safe – that’ll just go up too. The garden might still be damp enough to keep the flames at bay.”

She tossed one last look over her shoulder, tugged by her worry for Zuko. He stood back to back with his sister, his face fixed in a snarl as he battled Jet and the giant called Pipsqueak. He was holding his ground better than Azula, whose strikes gave too much room to manoeuvre, unbalanced without her bending. Another figure stood close by, a spot of calm in the sea of hurrying people, and Katara felt a stab of annoyance.

“Mai!” she called.

The noblewoman turned at the sound of her name, still with the cool, detached expression she had worn earlier. Here, it was just creepy.

“I wanted to see how Azula would do without her bending. I’m impressed,” she admitted, though a thread of disappointment wove through the words.

Katara didn’t have time for it. “Or you could help, instead of standing there?” She gestured to the room, to Bato trying his best to guide the guests through the burning hall to the only narrow way left into the gardens. The fire had spread to all the pillars now, dim light and thick smoke. Hypnotic. The heat of it seared against the skin.

“Smellerbee!”

Jet’s voice broke Katara from her trance. She looked over in time to see Azula catch her opponent with a vicious kick to the midsection. The girl crumpled, the daggers falling from her hands, and before she could react, Azula beat her back again with a centreline jab that sent her sprawling to the floor. With the speed of a rat-viper, Azula swung down and snatched up one of the daggers, ready to land a killing blow.

An arrow whistled from above. It struck the Fire Princess’ shoulder as she brought her arm slashing down. The blow went wide as she screamed. She staggered away, with Smellerbee following.

“I see him,” Mai snarled before Katara could open her mouth. “Leave it to me.”

She disappeared into the smoke, leaving Katara dumbfounded until the sounds of fighting reached her ears again and she turned to see Zuko now even more outnumbered, without either weapon or bending to help him. He had managed this far by being light on his feet, acrobatic in a way that felt familiar though the smoke made his movements hard to see, but with Pipsqueak at his back and Jet advancing with his swords, he wouldn’t last much longer.

She snatched up a food tray, barely thinking before she called his name and threw it to him.

He caught it, raised it just in time to block Jet’s downward strike. The swords pierced the thin wood of the tray, but the hooks stuck. Zuko twisted with a grunt of effort, and the weapons spun away across the floor.

“Katara, get out of here!” he shouted.

“Not without you!”

“Katara?” Jet glanced between him, his confusion condensing into a snarl as recognition hit. He picked up his swords, kicking aside the remainder of the tray. “I remember now. You’re even worse than them.”

“Katara!”

She glanced in Zuko’s direction, but he was being beaten back by Pipsqueak and Smellerbee, and there was no mistaking the threat in Jet’s voice as he prowled towards her. Instinctively, her stance lowered; she felt for the water that still wasn’t there.

Jet charged. He swiped for her with both swords, but she’d seen that move already. She bent backwards as the blades flashed over her head, so close she felt the breath of air disturbed by their passing, and as they swung away she followed the momentum of the move and wheeled backwards to put more space between them.

“Nice move, traitor,” Jet snarled, coming on again.

She snatched a chair from where it had fallen in the middle of the floor. “Do you think you can goad me?” she spat back, parrying his attack. “What was your plan here? Did you think if you killed the Fire Lord they were just going to just let you go? That the war would end?”

“I’m doing to them what they did to us!” he roared over the surge of the fire. “I’m just trying to redress the balance!”

Katara choked on the heat. They were running out of time. “This isn’t balance, this is madness! You can’t repay one slaughter with another and expect everything to be alright!”

“These people aren’t innocent!” His voice cracked on the words. “Every one of them has had a hand in all the pain and suffering caused for a hundred years!” He charged again, bashing at her with his swords, all finesse lost. “They’re soldiers –” bash “– or they’re in factories –” bash “– or they’re collaborating with the ones giving the orders to tear down our homes.” He swiped again, smashing her improvised weapon out of her hands. “You know this – you have to! How can you defend them? How can you sit and share food with them? It makes me sick!”

“I do what I have to,” she coughed, eyes stinging. “For all my people, not just for myself.”

She backed up, aware of the fire and the toxic smoke from the lacquer burning her lungs, aware she was being herded deeper into the conflagration. Dim shadows moved behind Jet, the hulking shape of Pipsqueak and Zuko’s lighter, quicker form trying to get to her. A table stood next to her, as yet untouched, still with the decorative tablecloth set beneath the plates. Water still wouldn’t come to her, though even with a full moon she would be hard-pressed to find any moisture in such a blaze. She had promised Hama she wouldn’t use her bending.

Jet lunged. She dived over the table, ripping up the cloth so the settings scattered over the floor, and surged to her feet with it taut between her hands, a ribbon of fabric almost as good as her water. She parried a strike, then another, left an opening for her opponent to follow. He took it, pushing forward with both blades at once, and time stretched to show her the surprise on his face when she snared both hooks in the cloth and used his momentum to throw him across the floor. When she stood, she caught Zuko staring at her.

If you thought that was impressive, you should see what else I can do, she thought, as she turned her attention back to Jet.

The ceiling groaned above them.

Someone screamed.

The dagger girl, Smellerbee, lurched out of the haze, batting frantically at the flames licking along her sleeve. Behind her came Azula, smirking, her palms lit with tiny globes of yellow-white fire that licked blue around the edges. Jet scrambled to his feet and put himself between Smellerbee and her opponent.

“And that’s our cue to leave!” he called over his shoulder.

“You’re not going anywhere.” The fire danced in Azula’s eyes.

“That’s what you think.”

Behind Jet, Pipsqueak grabbed the end of a table, shaking the trappings from their places with a grunt of effort.

“Katara!”

The table swung for her head. Smoke was in her lungs, her brain. She had no waterbending, no room to dodge out of the way.

A rough arm grabbed her around the waist and barrelled her to the floor with such force her head smacked off the smouldering silk of the carpet. Through the pink lights sparking behind her yes, she watched in slow motion as the table collided with one of the screen walls and smashed clean through. Fire rushed in, greedy for the new air being sucked through the gap, and someone was shouting at her to get her head down, to close her eyes – Zuko, she realised, as the wave of heat washed over her.

When she looked again, the Freedom Fighters were running for the hole in the wall, but Jet turned and pointed a finger at Katara.

“You got lucky this time, traitor,” he spat. “You’d better not get in my way again.”

Zuko was tugging on her arm, and suddenly Bato was there as well, looming through the smoke to help her out into the garden and the fresh, clean night air. Coughing, she glanced back and watched dimly, outside herself as the remains of the hall coiled a fat, lazy column of smoke into the sky, lighting scurrying figures in silhouette as the servants did their best to fight against the blaze before it could consume more of the palace complex. The stench of smoke matted in her hair, dredging up other smells from her memory, a wash of lurid purple light and the sight of her mother walking out like a shadow self into a wall of fury.

“… I’ll get her home, don’t worry.” Bato’s voice, swimming in and out of focus as if her head were dipping under water.

“She should see a healer.” She was still leaning on Zuko, felt his voice rumble through her arm. “I’d rather not…”

“Please, Your Highness. She ought to be with people she trusts.”

Fingers tightened on her shoulder.

“I want Hama,” she managed to croak. “She’ll be missing me. She’ll be worried.”

Jet’s last words rang in her head, the accusation of traitor going round and round until it made her dizzier than the smoke. In the cool of the garden, she felt her water coming back to her, in the dew on the grass and the sweat on the skin of those standing next to her. With it, the tremble in her limbs fell away, and a whisper grew in her mind, like the shadow of a monster beneath the surface of the sea: Tui’s demon aspect, the spirit she took into herself with the mantle of the Sea-wolf, the face shad had been forced to hide to protect herself and her people. As the palace burned, she felt herself pulled down with it into the depths, where everything was silence and cold, unyielding purpose.

She had wavered. She had lost the plan, forgotten her vengeance, allowed herself to be beguiled from her purpose when nothing else should have mattered. She pushed herself away from Zuko towards Bato’s anxious embrace, and turned on the Fire Nation prince.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” she told him with a small smile that wavered at the edges, just so.

There was something searching in his gaze, beneath the worry for her, but he nodded. “I can’t let you go alone – I’ll have the guard called.”

“Of course.” She bit her tongue to keep the argument at bay. For the sake of the plan, she had to stop Jet before he made a mess of everything, and a having a contingent of royal guard dogging her steps would only slow her down, but she couldn’t risk breaking her façade. She would have to play the delicate, sheltered princess for just a little longer.

But as Jet said, it was going to be an explosive New Year.

[londontheatre]

Commemorating the 80th anniversary of the Nanking massacre, as well as the first production at the Finborough Theatre building in its 150th anniversary year, the European premiere of Into the Numbers by multi-award-winning American playwright Christopher Chen opens at the Finborough Theatre for a four week limited season on Tuesday, 2 January 2018 (Press Nights: Thursday 4 and Friday 5 January 2018 at 7.30pm).

In December 1937, in Nanking, then capital of China, occurred one of the worst atrocities of the 20th century – the rape, torture and murder of 300,000 Chinese civilians and the systematic mass execution of soldiers by the Japanese army.

In 2004, Iris Chang, famed author of The Rape of Nanking, a chronicle of the massacre that brought it back into public consciousness, committed suicide at the age of 36. What begins as a standard lecture and interview with the celebrated author, soon descends into a surreal nightmare. As ghosts from her research appear, she tries desperately to find order in the midst of mental chaos.

Into the Numbers by the Obie Award and Dramatist Guild’s Lanford Wilson Award-winning playwright Christopher Chen, is a thrillingly innovative theatrical exploration of the philosophical and psychological implications of researching genocide, as well as the toll media saturation plays in the process.

Director Georgie Staight returns to the Finborough Theatre after her four-star (The Daily Telegraph) sell-out production of Carmen Nasr’s new play Dubailand.

Playwright Christopher Chen work includes Caught (La MaMa Theater, New York City, and Volta Festival at Arcola Theatre), Home Invasion (Site Specific with The Flight Deck, California), The Hundred Flowers Project (Crowded Fire Theatre, San Francisco), The Late Wedding (Hub Theatre, San Francisco), Mutt (La Val’s Subterranean), Passage (Wilma Theatre, Philadelphia), The Window Age (Central Works, Berkeley) and You Mean to Do Me Harm (San Francisco Playhouse). His honours include the 2017 Obie Award for Playwriting for Caught; the 2017 Dramatist Guild Lanford Wilson Award; 2017 Drama League Nomination for Outstanding Production for Caught; the 2015-2016 Sundance Institute/Time Warner Foundation Fellowship for Theater; the Paula Vogel Playwriting Award through which he was the 2013-2014 Playwright-in-Residence at the Vineyard Theatre New York; the Barrymore Award; PHINDIE Critics Award; the Glickman Award; the Rella Lossy Playwriting Award; shortlist for the James Tait Black Award; nomination for the Steinberg Award; second place in the Belarus Free Theater International Competition of Modern Dramaturgy; a MAP Fund Grant; a Ford Foundation Emerging Writer of Color Grant; and a finalist for the PONY and Jerome Fellowships. His current commissions include American Conservatory Theater, Aurora Theatre, LCT3, Manhattan Theatre Club, Oregon Shakespeare Festival and Playwrights Horizons. His work has been published by American Theatre Magazine, Dramatists Play Service, Theatre Bay Area and Theater Magazine Yale.

Director Georgie Staight returns to the Finborough Theatre after her sell-out run of Dubailand, nominated for an OffWestEnd Award. Direction includes Roosting (Park Theatre), White Light (Arcola Theatre as part of PlayWROUGHT), Flood (Tristan Bates Theatre), Safe (Jermyn Street Theatre), Dreamless Sleep (Arts Theatre and The Bunker) and Next of Kin (Bristol Old Vic Studio). She is also a playwright and has had her writing produced at Theatre503, The Bunker, Arcola Theatre, Arts Theatre and Bristol Old Vic. Writing includes the adaptation and world premiere of Deborah Levy’s Billy and Girl (Karamel Theatre), Let There Be Light (reading at Chichester Festival Theatre) and Dreamless Sleep (The Bunker). Assistant Direction includes Our Town (Watermill Theatre, Newbury) and Legally Blonde: The Musical (Bernie Grant Arts Centre). Georgie trained at Mountview Academy of Theatre Arts, and is Joint Artistic Director at Flux Theatre.

The cast is: Elizabeth Chan | Iris Chang Theatre includes B!rth (Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester), The Sugar-Coated Bullets of Bourgeoisie (HighTide Festival), The Odyssey (Almeida Theatre), Caught, Hamlet is Dead (Arcola Theatre), Light Shinning in Buckinghamshire (National Theatre), Henry IV (Donmar Warehouse), Chimerica (Almeida Theatre, Headlong Theatre and West End), The Wheel (National Theatre of Scotland), Greenland (National Theatre), Don’t Shoot the Clowns (Fuel Theatre), An Argument About Sex (Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh) and Cinderella (Lyric Theatre, Hammersmith).

Television includes Coronation Street, Motherland, Carters Get Rich, The Last Dragonslayer, Last Tango in Halifax, Cucumber, Holby City, Black Mirror – The Entire History of You, Spirit Warriors and Silent Witness.

Timothy Knightly | Brett Douglas / Interviewer / Doctor Productions at the Finborough Theatre include The Heaven. Theatre includes The Distance (Sheffield Theatres and Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond), Romeo and Juliet (The Tobacco Factory, Bristol and Tour), The Distance (Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond), Natural Affection (Jermyn Street Theatre), The Ashes (Nottingham Playhouse), Lady Windemere’s Fan (Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester), Ruben Guthrie (Wimbledon Studio Theatre), The Amazing Vacetti Sisters (Tristan Bates Theatre), The Water Engine (Old Vic Tunnels), Leon and the Place Between (Unicorn Theatre) and Absolution (Theatre503) . Film includes The Inbetweeners, The Birthday, The World Turns and Lucky. Television includes The Evermoor Chronicles, Not Going Out and All Saints.

Jennifer Lim | Nanking Relative / Victim / Ensemble Productions at the Finborough Theatre include Acceptance as part of Vibrant 2015 – A Festival of Finborough Playwrights. Theatre includes The Good Woman of Setzuan (National Theatre), A Colder Water Than Here (Vault Festival), World Factory Tour (Metis Arts), The Fu Manchu Complex (Ovalhouse), Wild Swans (The Young Vic), Speaking to Him (Birmingham Rep), Cleaning Up (Theatre Venture), Hecuba (Foursight Theatre), Daughter of the River (Mu-Lan Theatre Company) and Pork Bellies (Theatre Centre). Rehearsed Readings include The Kumamoto Care Home Murder (Theatre Royal Stratford East) and You Need Some of This (Theatre503). Film includes A Monster Calls, Far Away, Piercing Brightness, Ten Thousand Waves, Womb, Still, Act of Grace, Hostel, Code 46 and Rogue Trader. Television includes Spirit Warriors, Holby City and The League of Gentlemen. Radio includes And the Rain My Drink and The Story of the Stone.

Amy Molloy | Minnie Vautrin / Ensemble Productions at the Finborough Theatre include Over the Bridge. Theatre includes Disco Pigs (National Tour and Irish Tour), Cyprus Avenue (National Theatre of Ireland – Abbey Theatre, and Royal Court Theatre), Playhouse Creatures (Bruiser Theatre, Belfast), Teaset (Pleasance Courtyard, Baron’s Court Theatre and White Bear Theatre), Little Boxes (Theatre503), Rock Paper Scissors (Brockley Jack Studio Theatre), Let Me Count the Ways (Rich Mix London), Tejas Verdes – Chilean Trilogy and Villa – Chilean Trilogy (The Mac, Belfast), The Parachutist (Cockpit Theatre), My Cousin Rachel (Gate Theatre, Dublin), Big Maggie (Druid Theatre, Galway), Belfast Girls (King’s Head Theatre), October, and Building Site (Arcola Theatre), John Gabriel Borkman (BAM Harvey Theater, New York City, and National Theatre of Ireland – Abbey Theatre), The Lieutenant of Inishmore (The Curve, Leicester), Black Milk (Brian Friel Theatre, Belfast), Kitty and Damnation (Lion and Unicorn Theatre),The Surveyor (New End Theatre, Hampstead), Once a Catholic (Upstairs at the Gatehouse), The Seagull (Chelsea Theatre), A Laughing Matter (Pleasance London) and Come on Over (Tristan Bates Theatre). Film include Raided House, The Sea and Black Ice. Television includes Virtues, The Fall, Call the Midwife and 50 Ways to Kill Your Lover.

Mark Ota | Deputy Japanese Ambassador / Soldier / Ensemble Theatre includes Poker Face, I Went To a Fabulous Party (Kings Head Theatre), How to Hold Your Breath (Royal Court Theatre), My Mind is Free (Edinburgh Festival), (Up)Rooted (SLAM), Theatre Madness Festival (Stratford Circus), Home is Where (Rich Mix), The Hotel, Romeo and Juliet (Jackinabox Productions), Speaking to Him (Birmingham Rep), Cleaning Up (Theatre Venture), Hecuba (Foursight Theatre), A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Moving Stories), The Tempest, As You Like It, The Memory of Water and Constellations (Arts Educational Schools London). Rehearsed Readings include The Sun (Yellow Earth) and Bird Bones (London Playwrights Lab). Film includes The Watchers, Silentville, Walking With the Ferryman, Mountain, Woman Forever Woman, Moumoku Samurai, Memory Lane and Lullaby.

Finborough Theatre, 118 Finborough Road, London SW10 9ED Box Office 0844 847 1652 http://ift.tt/NsSQwL Tuesday, 2 – Saturday, 27 January 2018

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