#south wales farmers

[atlasdoe]

For Remus' birthday my wish is that The Marauders fandom would stop confusing Wales to Birmingham😭

[invisibleicewands]

Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon’: how Michael Sheen got sucked into a forever chemicals exposé

An opera-loving member of high society turned eco-activist who was forced into police protection with a panic button round his neck. A Hollywood actor who recorded said activist’s life story as he was dying from exposure to the very chemicals he was investigating. Throw in two investigative journalists who realise not everything is as it seems, then uncover some startling truths, and you have “podcasting’s strangest team” on Buried: The Last Witness.

On their award-winning 2023 podcast Buried, the husband and wife duo Dan Ashby and Lucy Taylor dug into illegal toxic waste dumping in the UK and its links to organised crime. This time, they focus on “forever chemicals”, specifically polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs) and set out to discover whether one whistleblower may have been decades ahead of his time in reporting on their harmful impact.

“It’s amazing how big the scale of this story is,” says Ashby, as we sit backstage at the Crucible theatre, where they are doing a live discussion as part of Sheffield DocFest. “With this series, we don’t just want it to make your blood turn cold, we want it to make you question your own blood itself.”

It all started when Taylor and Ashby were sent a lead about the work of former farmer’s representative Douglas Gowan. In 1967, he discovered a deformed calf in a field and began to investigate strange goings on with animals close to the Brofiscin and Maendy quarries in south Wales. He linked them to the dumping of waste by companies including the nearby Monsanto chemical plant, which was producing PCBs.

PCBs were used in products such as paint and paper to act as a fire retardant, but they were discovered to be harmful and have been banned since 1981 in the UK. However, due to their inability to break down – hence the term forever chemical – Gowan predicted their legacy would be a troubling one. “I expect there to be a raft of chronic illness,” he said. He even claimed that his own exposure to PCBs (a result of years of testing polluted grounds) led his pancreas and immune system to stop working. “I’m a mess and I think it can all be attributed to PCBs,” he said.

However, Gowan wasn’t a typical environmentalist. “A blue-blood high-society Tory and a trained lawyer who could out-Mozart anyone,” is how Taylor describes him in the series. He would even borrow helicopters from friends in high places to travel to investigate farmers’ fields. Gowan died in 2018 but the pair managed to get hold of his life’s work – confidential reports, testing and years of evidence. “I’m interested in environmental heroes that aren’t cliche,” says Ashby. “So I was fascinated by him. But then we started to see his flaws and really had to weigh them up. My goodness it’s a murky world we went into.”

The reason they were able to delve even deeper into this murky world is because of the award-winning actor Michael Sheen who, in 2017, came across Gowan’s work in a story he read. He was so blown away by it, and the lack of broader coverage, that he tracked him down. “I got a message back from him saying: ‘Please come and see me because I’ll be dead soon,’” says Sheen. “I took a camera with me and spent a couple of days with him and just heard this extraordinary story.”

What Gowan had been trying to prove for years gained some traction in 2007, with pieces in the Ecologist and a Guardian article exploring how “Monsanto helped to create one of the most contaminated sites in Britain”. One was described as smelling “of sick when it rains and the small brook that flows from it gushes a vivid orange.” But then momentum stalled.

Years later, in 2023, Ashby and Taylor stumbled on a recording of Sheen giving the 2017 Raymond Williams memorial lecture, which referenced Gowan and his work. Before they knew it, they were in the actor’s kitchen drinking tea and learning he had conducted a life-spanning seven-hour interview with Gowan before his death. So they joined forces. Sheen isn’t just a token celebrity name added for clout on this podcast; he is invested. For him, it’s personal as well as political. “Once you dig into it, you realise there’s a pattern,” he says. “All the places where this seems to have happened are poor working-class areas. There’s a sense that areas like the one I come from are being exploited.”

Sheen even goes to visit some contaminated sites in the series, coming away from one feeling sick. “That made it very real,” he says. “To be looking into a field and going: ‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s toxic waste.’” Sheen was living a double life of sorts. “I went to rehearsals for a play on Monday and people were like, ‘What did you do this weekend?’” he says. “‘Oh, I went to the most contaminated area in the UK and I think I may be poisoned.’ People thought I was joking.” Sheen ended up being OK, but did have some temporary headaches and nausea, which was a worry. “We literally had to work out if we had poisoned Michael Sheen,” says Ashby, who also ponders in the series: “Have I just killed a national treasure?”

The story gets even knottier. Gowan’s findings turn out to be accurate and prescient, but the narrative around his journey gets muddy. As a character with a flair for drama, he turned his investigation into a juicy, riveting story filled with action, which could not always be corroborated. “If he hadn’t done that, and if he’d been a nerdy, analytical, detail-oriented person who just presented the scientific reports and kept them neatly filed, would we have made this podcast?” asks Taylor, which is a fascinating question that runs through this excellent and gripping series.

Ashby feels that Gowan understood how vital storytelling is when it comes to cutting through the noise. “We have so much science proving the scale of these problems we face and yet we don’t seem to have the stories,” he says. “I think Douglas got that. Fundamentally, he understood that stories motivate human beings to act. But then he went too far.”

However, this is not purely about Gowan’s story – it’s about evidence. The Last Witness doubles up as a groundbreaking investigation into the long-lasting impact of PCBs. “We threw the kitchen sink at this,” says Ashby. “The breakthrough for us is that the Royal Society of Chemistry came on board and funded incredibly expensive testing. So we have this commitment to go after the truth in a way that is hardly ever done.”

From shop-bought fish so toxic that it breaches official health advice to off-the-scale levels of banned chemicals found in British soil, the results are staggering. “The scientist almost fell off his chair,” says Ashby. “That reading is the highest he has ever recorded in soil – in the world. That was the moment we knew Douglas was right and we are now realising the scale of this problem. The public doesn’t realise that even a chemical that has been banned for 40 years is still really present in our environment.”

To go even deeper into just how far PCBs have got into our environment and food chain, Ashby and Taylor had their own blood tested. When Taylor found 80 different types of toxic PCB chemicals in her blood it was a sobering moment. “I was genuinely emotional because it’s so personal,” she says. “It was the thought of this thing being in me that was banned before I was even born and the thought of passing that on to my children.” Ashby adds: “We’ve managed physical risk in our life as journalists in Tanzania and with organised crime, but more scary than a gangster is this invisible threat to our health.”

In order to gauge the magnitude of what overexposure to PCBs can do, they headed to Anniston, Alabama, once home to a Monsanto factory. “As a journalist, you have an inbuilt scepticism and think it can’t be that bad,” says Ashby. “But when I got there I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I hate to use words like dystopian, but it was. There is a whole massive school that can’t be used. There’s illnesses in children and cancers. It truly was the most powerful vignette of the worst-case example of these chemicals.”

It’s bleak stuff but instilling fear and panic is not the intention. “Obviously, we’re really concerned about it,” says Ashby. “And although the environmental crises we face do feel overwhelming, it is incredible how a movement has formed and how individuals are taking action in communities. The lesson to take from Douglas is that the response doesn’t have to be resignation. It can be agency.”

[kaitaiga]

COD MW OC: Damien Whitlock Profile & Reference Sheet

》 Open File

GENERAL INFO

Full Name: Damien Whitlock

Nickname: Damo

Birthday: 7th March 1996 – Sydney, Australia

Face Claim: Zane Phillips

Affiliation: 2nd Commando Regiment (2CDO REGT), Tactical Assault Group East (TAG-E), Task Force Dagger 🗡️

Rank: Sergeant

Call sign: Bravo 2-6 (2CDO)

Height: 186cm (6’1)

Weight: 90kg

Blood Type: B- (B NEG)

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Languages: English, Arabic (conversational), Indonesian (conversational)

Family:

Father: Arthur Whitlock

Mother: Audrey Mae Whitlock

Older Brother: Thomas Whitlock

Older Sister: Sienna Whitlock

Younger Sister: Zoe Whitlock

Affiliates:

Task Force Dagger

→ Captain Lachlan Jones (2CDO)

→ Sergeant Daniel Greenhill (2CDO Combat Medic)

→ Flight Lieutenant Archie “Frost” Campbell (RAAF F-35A Pilot)

→ Sergeant Joseph “Joey” Hernández (RAAF Combat Controller)

Task Force 141

→ Sergeant Major Hannah “Sparrow” Cayton (@revnah1406)

→ Sergeant Annabelle “Kit” Pham (@applbottmjeens)

→ Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin @sleepyconfusedpotato

→ Captain Price, Gaz, Laswell, Soap, Ghost

Los Vaqueros

→ Alyssa “Aly” Martinez (@alypink)

Para SF

→ Captain Arjun Dhingra, LT. Aditya Tripathi (@welldonekhushi)

Warrior Task Force (@islandtarochips)

→ Tiala "Shark" Toa

→ Agnes "Blast" Falagi

→ Nigel “Squirrel” Harrison

Urzikstan Liberation Force (ULF)

→ Farah Karim

→ Alex Keller

Other

→ Jackson Wyatt (1CDO, Warcom)

→ Benjamin “Otter” Lee (SAS)

Appearance

Hair: blond, short mullet.

Eye Colour: blue/grey

Build: tall, muscular

Scars: Bullet wound (left shoulder)

Beauty Marks: Right jaw, above and below the left eye.

Tattoos:

Personality and Traits

Damien comes across as a very laidback and open guy, very easy to approach and talk to. He is a pretty big jokester, likes to crack a few jokes here and there to make people laugh or lighten the mood.

Though in the heat of battle, he has known to be brutal towards his enemies, sparing no mercy and absolutely no time - getting a job done quickly and efficiently. He isn’t afraid to speak his mind when needed, even if it may be more emotionally driven.

Nevertheless, towards those he likes, he is a very caring and loyal person. Ride or die buddy. It’s pretty damn obvious too, he’ll never stop bugging someone he cares for no matter where they are in the world. He can read their emotions like a book too; he can tell when someone’s feeling down and will try his best to cheer them up.

ESFP-T (MBTI)

Damien is also really good with any sort of trade work which he learned whilst growing up on his family farm. You need an electrician, mechanic, or welder? He’s your guy.

Damien’s also the sort of guy to take care of others but not himself. Truthfully, after he lost Daniel, he found it very hard to cope. Thus, he took on Daniel’s role of looking after others.

Skills/Specialisations

Like any other commando, Damien has undergone a multitude of training, preparing him for anything and everything. Alone or with his squad. A few of these include:

Demolitions and Breaching

CQC/Melee Attacks

Wilderness Survival

Long Range Recon

HALO / HAHO (including water insertion)

Roping (aid climbing)

Hostage Rescue

First Aid

And so on. In his own time, Damien frequently trains in Jiu-Jitsu, earning his purple belt, further enhancing his CQC.

Biography

Coming from a family of farmers, Damien spent most of his childhood living and working out on his family farm in rural New South Wales. Throughout his younger years, he was constantly harassed/bullied by his drug addicted older brother, Thomas. Young Damien was no match for him but luckily enough, his older sister had his back at all times. Thomas would eventually runaway and was never seen again – presumed dead.

As he grew up, Damien attended an all-boys boarding school in Sydney where he met Daniel Greenhill – his best friend for many years to come. He never really excelled at any subjects other than wood/metalwork and P.E., so when it came down to his final ATAR exams he absolutely flunked them. Not wanting to continue studying or returning to farm life, Damien worked the odd job here and there to make ends meet.

Whilst working one of his jobs alongside his buddy, Daniel had dropped that he had met an operator by the name of Jackson Wyatt and suggested that he should meet with him.

After hearing all about Wyatt’s career as a Commando, Damien was sold on the idea; so much so that at the age of 19, he enlisted into the Australian Army after being trained by Wyatt himself much to his parent's disapproval. He served two years as an infantryman within 3RAR before completing the Commando selection course and earning his green beret, where he was placed in Lachlan’s B Company. Turns out he had a real knack for this sort of thing as he continued to undergo a range of further Commando specialist courses after initial Commando training.

 Since then, he’s done multiple tours to Urzikstan, Afghanistan and Iraq where he was introduced to Captain Price (via Lachlan) and Benjamin “Otter” Lee (via Wyatt).

Damien has since then worked alongside Captain Price closely thanks to Lachlan’s close connection to him, particularly in Urzikstan, but isn’t opposed to flying out to lend a hand wherever.

Modern Warfare I

During 2019, Damien is first seen in the UK on a training exercise with the SAS before he is swiftly sent to London’s Piccadilly Circus to assist against AQ’s terrorist attack, alongside Gaz. Afterwards, he joins the SAS Anti-terror wing along with Price and Gaz to clear a house in Camden, full of AQ affiliates in search of any information related to the Piccadilly attack and The Wolf.

Damien returns to Urzikstan alongside 2CDO REGT, where not long after he is called to assist Captain Price, Gaz and the others at the US Embassy, also aiding to save the Ambassador’s Assistant, Stacy. Following this, he follows the rest of the team back to the ambassador’s residence only to find the Wolf had been extracted by AQ forces already. Furthermore, he is seen briefly helping SAS and CIA on the night raid to locate The Wolf at his compound.

2020/2021

After the events of MW19, Damien spent this time on rotation in TAG-E, though was later sent back to Urzikstan on an emergency deployment to help aid in the assassination of an AQ leader. This proved to be a struggle. They were given little to no information and thus were subsequently ambushed, leading to the death of best friend, Daniel Greenhill, who tried to pull an injured Damien out of enemy fire.

After the funeral, Damien spent his time spiralling down. He became depressed, not leaving his Sydney apartment for days at a time and ultimately almost being discharged from his duties. Though thanks to his Captain and two close friends - Lachlan, Sparrow and Aly - they helped him find the means to work towards getting better and soon enough, he was ready enough to go back to his duties.

Modern Warfare II

In 2022, Damien is first seen undercover at Café Gracht alongside Captain Price where they wait for representatives from both AQ and Las Almas Cartel to show up. After seeing Gaz tranquillise the cartel member, they all move to enter Laswell’s vehicle and leave the area swiftly.

Later on he returns to Urzikstan, where he is again enlisted for help by Price to rescue Laswell from AQ along with ULF fighters.

Modern Warfare III

Damien spends this time going home to Australia for a little while before being sent on another tour around the Middle East. It is in Urzikstan that he (and 2CDO REGT) work alongside Phillip Graves and his Shadow Company, unaware of the events in Las Almas concerning Los Vaqueros and TF141. He is only made aware when seeing his friend Sparrow again, where she rips the SC patch off of him and promptly has a go at Damien for wearing that thing around them, explaining the full story.

2024 Onwards

Sometime during 2024, Damien was recruited into Task Force Dagger, a task force created in order to combat and end ‘Project Nightfall’ created by ‘STALKERS’ personnel. To be continued…

Trivia

EDM and rock/metal music is what he listens to most.

He is a Mclaren F1 fan, as well as being a big fan of the AFL team: Collingwood Football Club (Magpies).

Absolute gym junkie. Has an extensive collection of pre-workout, protein powder and creatine stored in his apartment (and snuck onto base). If he wasn’t a Commando, he’d probably be a bodybuilder or athlete of some sort.

Drives a 79 series Landcruiser. His number plate is “WHITLOCK”.

Damien keeps a scrapbook that he fills with stickers, trinkets, thoughts or drawings from various places he has visited.

During his downtime in Sydney, he likes to go café-hopping! He’s a big foodie. Also likes to take long walks during the night, overlooking the Harbour Bridge and generally just taking in the city lights. It's one of his favourite things to do to ease his mind.

In the past, Damien has never had a good relationship - they’ve all either cheated on him or ghosted him. He gave up looking for a partner even though he longed to have a family of his own.

Does jiu-jitsu and is currently at a purple belt.

Thanks to Daniel, Damien is pretty good at speaking Indonesian and really enjoys Indonesian food! His favourites are nasi campur and soda gembira. He’d mix Indonesian and English together to gossip about something to Daniel. After they both graduated high school, Daniel took Damien to visit Jakarta for the first time and he loved it! Also owns a couple batik shirts.

Frequently visits Daniel’s grave when he has the time. He sits there for hours just catching him up on every little event or thought that has happened, as if he were there to listen like the old times. Frequently catches up with Daniel's family too, they've taken him in like he's their son.

Moodboard + Playlist

[whencyclopedia]

The Impact of the British Industrial Revolution

The consequences of the British Industrial Revolution (1760-1840) were many, varied, and long-lasting. Working life in rural and urban settings was changed forever by the inventions of new machines, the spread of factories, and the decline of traditional occupations. Developments in transportation and communications meant life in the post-industrial world was more exciting and faster, with people more connected than ever before. Consumer goods became more affordable to more people, and there were more jobs for a booming population. The price to pay for progress was often a working life that was noisy, repetitive, and dangerous, while cities grew to become overcrowded, polluted, and crime-ridden.

The impact of the Industrial Revolution included:

Many new machines were invented that could do things much faster than previously or could perform entirely new tasks.

Steam power was cheaper, more reliable, and faster than more traditional power sources.

Large factories were established, creating jobs and a boom in cotton textile production, in particular.

Large engineering projects became possible like iron bridges and viaducts.

Traditional industries like hand weaving and businesses connected to stagecoaches went into terminal decline.

The cost of food and consumer goods was reduced as items were mass-produced and transportation costs decreased.

Better tools became available for manufacturers and farmers.

The coal, iron, and steel industries boomed to provide fuel and raw materials for machines to work.

The canal system was expanded but then declined.

Urbanisation accelerated as labour became concentrated around factories in towns and cities.

Cheap train travel became a possibility for all.

Demand for skilled labour, especially in textiles, decreased.

Demand for unskilled labour to operate machines and work on the railways increased.

The use of child and women labour increased.

Worker safety declined and was not reversed until the 1830s.

Trade unions were formed to protect workers' rights.

The success of mechanisation led to other countries experiencing their own industrial revolutions.

Coal Mining

Mining of tin and coal has a long history in Britain, but the arrival of the Industrial Revolution saw unprecedented activity underground to find the fuel to feed the steam-powered machines that came to dominate industry and transport. The steam-powered pump was invented to drain mines in 1712. This allowed deeper mining and so greatly increased coal production. The Watt steam engine, patented in 1769, allowed steam power to be harnessed for almost anything, and as the steam engines ran on coal, so the mining industry boomed as mechanisation swept across industries of all kinds. This phenomenon only increased with the spread of the railways from 1825 and the increase in steam-powered ships from the 1840s. Coal gas, meanwhile, was used for lighting homes and streets from 1812, and as a source of heat for private homes and cookers. Coke, that is burnt coal, was used as a fuel in the iron and steel industries, and so the demand for coal kept on growing as the Industrial Revolution rolled on.

There were four principal coal mining areas: South Wales, southern Scotland, Lancashire, and Northumberland. To get the coal to where it was needed, Britain's canal system was significantly expanded as transportation by canal was 50% cheaper than using roads. By 1830, "England and Wales had 3,876 miles in 1760" (Horn, 17). Britain produced annually just 2.5 to 3 million tons of coal in 1700, but by 1900, this figure had rocketed to 224 million tons.

Continue reading...

[jewellery-box]

Day dress worn by Elizabeth Marsden

Powerhouse Collection

This day gown is one of a number of costumes in the Museum's collection that were worn by members of the Marsden family. It is likely that the dress was worn by Elizabeth Marsden, the wife of Reverend Samuel Marsden who was a prominent figure in colonial New South Wales. On 1 January 1793 Marsden accepted the appointment as assistant to the chaplain of New South Wales, and was ordained deacon on 17 March at Bristol and priest in May of the same year. Marsden married Elizabeth Fristan on 21 April 1793 and the newly married couple, expecting their first child, left London on 1 July 1793 on the ship 'William'. They arrived in Port Jackson in March 1794 with their daughter Ann, who was born during the eight month journey. As the chaplain to New South Wales, Marsden endeavoured, with some success, to improve the standard of morals and manners. Samuel soon became a leading figure in colonial life, combining, sometimes controversially, his job as the colony's clergyman with that of magistrate, missionary, wealthy landowner and farmer.

Life in the new colony proved extremely isolating. In 1796 Elizabeth Marsden wrote: 'We seem in our present situation to be almost totally cut off from all connexion with the world especially the virtuous part of it. Old England is no more than like a pleasing dream' (Marsden 1796). However, right from the beginning, the colonists of the remote penal settlement that became Sydney wanted to maintain a fashionable appearance. For Sydney's elite, fashionable dress confirmed their status in the colony, clearly defining not just wealth but also their moral superiority. It was to Britain and France that they looked for news of the latest fashions and hand coloured fashion plates inserted in monthly periodicals provided them with details of the latest silhouettes, hairstyles and accessories. More immediate news was obtained by examining the dress of women of the latest shipboard arrivals from England. The colonial elite, including the family of Samuel Marsden, eagerly awaited the irregular shipments of goods from Europe, India and China. At first the lack of local stores, dressmakers, tailors and supplies meant they frequently relied on friends and family 'at home' to purchase and ship the latest styles. In 1799 Elizabeth Marsden wrote to Mary Stokes, a friend in England: 'We are surprised to see the alteration in the fashion. The Bonnet with white satin ribbons is much admired. Dear Madam your goodness induces me to take the liberty to say a little white ribbon would be acceptable' (Marsden 1799). By the 1820s commerce was thriving and a wide range of dressmaking and tailoring skills were locally available, however many still preferred the prestige of a European import.

It is likely that this dress was worn by Elizabeth Marsden in about 1835 when she was nearly 60. Elizabeth died the same year and the dress may have been kept by her children or husband as a momento. The dress shows some of the stylistic irregularities often encountered in colonial dress. The front-opening bodice of the dress is unusual for this time, which may suggest that it was remade from an earlier gown. Another possibility is that the front opening made it easier for Elizabeth to dress, as she had suffered a stroke in 1811 whilst giving birth to her daughter Martha on 6th May 1811, leaving one arm paralysed. The other alternative is that the dress belonged to Ann and was a nursing dress which opened at the front to allow for breastfeeding.

Distinctive of the fashion during the 1830s are the bishop sleeves with flat mancherons off the shoulders, together with the pleated skirt. The dress is well made and finished which, along with the quality of the fabric, indicates the use of a professional dressmaker. However Ann Marsden was known to have been a skilled seamstress and may have made the dress. As with other costumes worn by the Marsden family, this dress appears restrained in style but of good quality fabric and finish, reflecting the Marsden family's social position and comfortable economic circumstances.

The Marsden costume collection was transferred from the Royal Australian Historical Society to the Museum in 1981. This well-provenanced collection includes some of the earliest surviving examples of colonial dress worn and made in Australia, and gives insight into the life of the Marsden family.

Michelle Brown, 2007

[deeisace]

any Henry Jekylls?

Hello! I don't know! Let's find out!

...

There are two!

Here's one -

Right near the bottom there, in 1861, he is the son of Mary and Robert Jekyll, a grocer in London.

He got married in 1870, to Harriet Hanson, a farmer's daughter, where he is listed as a -- a tanning maker?

Ah, that makes sense - 1871, he is a dairyman in Marylebone.

An 1875 London directory -

Cows is a recurring theme here, I feel. Tho I would rather like to know about his neighbours, honestly.

In 1872 they had a daughter, Hilda Beatrice -

And I know she married a George Long and moved to Berlin and died in 1937, but my German is nonexistent - and I can't find any more about this Henry or his wife, so there my research ends tbh.

Next!

Here we have Henry Joseph Campbell Jekyll, age 17 in 1861 -

This one is a lot posher than the previous - his dad Joseph, who died in the 50s was a "fundholder", and even post his death they have a cook a housemaid and a footman. Not The Poshest, a small household, but certainly I should say middle class.

Now, what's interesting here is they are being visited by Australian cousins - or, one - I don't know if she or the rest lived there, but Lucy was certainly born there, and given her age she might've been in England to go to boarding school.

It's interesting, because if we skip forward,, several years, he is living - well, it's the same general part of the world - he's in NZ Aotearoa!

He's a landowner, per the electoral roll - here he and his wife are in 1902

They got married in 1878, in New Zealand, so he must've moved before then, so let's go back a bit -

In 1860, he's hmm apprenticed not really, employed, as a clerk to an attorney for 5 years

Okay, so we know he was in London til at least 1865, where/when else can we find him?

.

Is this a new guy??

New South Wales is Australia, and this guy's being released from prison?? Doesn't seem to match up with our middle class clerk in Linwood.

Parramatta Australia? Stealing?? Stealing what? I don't know, I'm afraid.

Back to the posh one, if this isn't the same guy -

One of them, anyway, is "unassisted" in travelling to Queensland in 1878 - I'd presume, tho I don't know the dates of that practice, that means he wasn't transported - aboard the Ramsey, docking in Brisbane

In 1885, our one is selling some land in Pigeon Bay, on the South Island (which from a google looks gorgeous tbh)

Then there's a bunch of electoral rolls, his son Edward was born in 1886 (and became a lieutenant of some kind in WW1), and finally -

Died age 69.

No wait! A description of the one who was in prison!

He is the one that arrived aboard the Ramsey, he's from London and born in 1849 (same as the cowkeeper, who I cannot find any further details for), is Church of England, a haberdasher (I think?) 5 foot 5 "of spare make" (skinny, I spose), fresh complexion, dark brown hair and light brown eyes, he can read and write and he has some kind of pox marks "all over body".

There, now I'm done!

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [23]

chapter twenty-three, act three: so far (it's alright)

masterlist

September 10th 2014

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ads, I’m sure.” She hears him sigh through the phone as she holds it to her ear, “It’s fine, I’m a big girl.”

“I just-” He sighs, “I don’t want you being alone, that’s all, you could’ve moved in with me-”

“Ads, I don’t want to impose,” She carries on before he can interrupt and tell her she won’t be, “Besides, everyones moving out, getting new places-”

“Yeah, but they’re doing it together. I mean, I have Carls, Ross is with John, George and Matty…”

“Ads, I’m fine. I think if I have to have another roommate I’ll kill myself.”

He sighs, “Don’t stay stuff like that.”

She hears a voice call out in the background questioning who's on the phone, then she hears little bickering as the phone is pulled away from Adam.

“Hey, Tom, how are you?”

“Hi, Carls, you making sure he’s being good?”

“Always.” She promises, “How's the house? Need help moving?”

“I’m alright, it’s uh, it’s coming along… I think.”

She hears Adam attempt to take the phone back in the background and then Carly shoos him away, “We’ll be down to see it when you’re done, yeah?”

“Alright, I’ll host a party or summat so everyone makes an effort to come.”

“Alright, give it.”

She hears her complain as Adam takes the phone back, she can imagine him with one arm around Calry pulling her to his chest so she can still hear the conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? I can drive down tomorrow morning help you out.”

“I’m fine, Ads, promise. But, if I want to sleep tonight, I'm gonna have to start unpacking.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go then. Call me tomorrow.”

“Bye, Ads.”

She sets her phone down on the little kitchen island and looks around the little house she’s gotten herself about an hour drive from her home village in South Wales.

It’s just outside of Brecon, a little detached two bedroom house that stands alone with some land around it. It's a fifteen minute walk from a village nearby, a couple minutes drive away from some shops.

But her favourite part is that she’s only a ten minute walk from a pub that stands at the end of the long lane to drive up.

The house is small, and content for just her and Button.

The outside is run down and covered in ivy leaves but she likes it. The reason she was able to get it much cheaper than it should've been was due to the age and the amount of years it's been inhabited.

But for the past two months she’s been coming down here and working to get it fixed up. Now all she has to do is unpack her belongings from the flat and fish off a few decorative touches.

When the guys had made the announcement they’d all be moving out she panicked for a while. She’d never be able to afford the three bedroom apartment alone and worried that they’d abandon her in other senses too.

But that wasn't the case at all, Ross and John happily offered up her moving in with them, with George saying she could bunk with Matty (claiming after almost three years it was time he finally had a room to himself as he was ‘tall and needed the leg space’)

However she quickly found a cute little house that stole her heart and moved in instantly. 

The house is small, with a cute little back garden full of flowers and trees to protect from any onlookers outside.

There’s only a few other houses dotted around in the fields, two are owned by the local farmer and her family, one by the pub owner down the lane and one by a family who she’s learned lives abroad and rents it out as a holiday home.

She’s proud of the house and what she's done with it.

There’s a little hallway where she’s put coat racks and a little bench that holds her shoes, along with a nice mirror to do last minute outfit checks before she leaves.

The hallway leads right into the living room with a little fireplace, above the fireplace is her TV and to the right of that a little bay window where she’s placed cushions, blankets and a coffee table stacked with some of her favourite books.

The bookshelf she ordered sits unmade in the box, which is tomorrow's task, and beside that four boxes full of her books (and a few of Matty’s).

There's a green three seater, an armchair and then a two seater around the coffee table in the middle of the room, more books piled on top with little trinkets that she owns, like .

There’s an open doorway that leads through into a kitchen, beside that a sunroom/ conservatory that leads to the back garden.

The kitchen’s got a small breakfast bar attached to the island with three chairs that fit there.

The conservative has been turned into Button’s own little room, toys scattered around and her own two seater settee.

Upstairs there’s two bedrooms and a bathroom, she’s kept one room as her own turning the other into an office/studio with her instruments, some more books, records and even a recording set she stole from George.

She settles onto the mattress that's on the floor since she hasn't gotten around to buying a bed frame yet, Button jumps up beside her and they curl up under the blankets.

She finds herself smiling as she looks around, kissing her dog on the top of her head, “You like your new home, Button?”

The dog does nothing, only shifts to rest her head on Tommie’s curled legs, she smiles as she looks around the room, “Me too.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

September 15th 2014

“It’s nice.”

“Nice?”

Caleb nods as he struggles to move his suitcase through the hallway, she takes it for him and pulls it to the bottom of the stairs leaving it there ready to go up.

“It’s cute.” He adds on afterwards. “You did a good job with it.”

“Thanks.”

They stand in the middle of the living room and she rocks awkwardly on her bare feet trying her hardest not to pointedly stare at his shoes on her rug.

She purses her lips to avoid calling him out on it, she knows it's something he doesn't like. Her clean freak controlling behaviour but she can’t help.

Everything needs to be perfect.

It’s too tense. This air between them, no longer filled by his questions of studio days and his prying into her childhood life she’s yet to completely unveil to him.

She clears her throat and wets her lips, “Drink?”

“Uh, sure, what do you have?”

“Cider, wine, ooh, Ross got me a Gin-”

“Do you have anything else? Non-alcoholic.”

“Uh, council pop?”

His brow raises as he follows her into the kitchen and she grabs two glasses, “What's that?”

“Water.”

“Oh, please.”

She smiles as she hands him the glass, “I’m on a cleanse.” He tells her as he takes a sip.

She purses her lips not to laugh, “A cleanse?”

“Mhmm.”

“Wow,” She mutters quietly, “LA really got to you, huh?”

He chuckles, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head with a timid smile, “Nothing.”

It's silent again then and she taps her fingers against the counter top as he looks around.

“Um, you uh, want to go down the pub later? Have a bit of food?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She lifts her chin in a simple nod and crosses her arms over her chest.

“When did it get like this?” He asks, placing the cup down on the counter, “Awkward, like we’re treading on eggshells?”

She sighs and leans back against the island, “I’m not sure.”

“Have I done something?” He asks, “Anything, anything that makes you feel this way?”

She shakes her head, “No. No, please don't think that, it’s- it’s me.”

He nods and turns away, “Which one?”

“What?”

“Of the guys, honestly, I don't think it’d be George. So, Ross or Matty, which one are you in love with?”

She snorts, “I’m not in love with anyone.” She says, then quietly adds on, “That’s the problem.”

His shoulders fall and he grips the counter a little harder, “You’re not in love with me?”

He steps away, more towards the door as if ready to make a getaway, “Wait, please, can I- Can I just have a couple minutes to talk to you? Because we,” She sighs running a hand through her hair, “We can’t keep doing this Caleb, hoping whatever this is will fix itself without talking. I don’t- even know what the problem is.”

He nods, “Okay.”

She leads him to the living room, sitting him down on the settee and taking his hand, “When you said to me, on my birthday, that you loved me, I… I freaked out a little, I mean, no one’s ever said that before and honestly, I didn’t think anyone ever would.”

She looks down at her knees and sighs, “This isn’t an excuse and is not me trying to gain pity, but you wanted to know about me so let's do that.”

“Do what?”

“Get to know me.”

She clears her throat and lifts herself up a little higher, “When I was a kid my mother wasn't around, you know that, my grandparents raised me but as I got older they started working more, living the lives they had to miss because not only did they raise two daughters but their granddaughter too. My dad was… a difficult man, he considered himself a father enough to try and control me but not enough to be there.

“He was only around when convenient for him, he didn’t like me cause he wanted a son, and I wasn’t that no matter how hard I tried to be. He was a harsh man, very harsh, and his saying was always ‘boys don’t cry, if I had a son I wouldn’t have to deal with this, boys don’t cry’. I hated it, hated that I wouldn’t be good enough for him solely because of my gender. 

“I remember once, I think I was nine, maybe ten, still in primary school, he sat me down after a football game that he’d made the effort for- I was so happy just because he turned up and it just all came crashing down when he said to me, ‘Caroline, I’ll never love you like a son, not like your little brother’. I didn’t even know his new girlfriend was pregnant, that's how I found out.

“I guess that just messed with me, I mean, if the man who created me couldn’t love me, couldn’t love, full stop, how could anyone love me and how could I possibly reciprocate it? You know?”

She sighs and risks a glance up at him, “But I think, I know, that I can love you. I can. Not right now, but I will. I just need time, Caleb, that's all I’m asking for.”

He reaches forward slowly, hands cupping her face to swipe away the tears before travelling down to smooth his thumbs over her knuckles.

“You’re full of love, your heart is so big, too big even. You were born to overlove, Tommie. Please don’t blame yourself for it.”

He kisses her cheek gently and she leans into him as his arms wrap around her, “We have all the time in the world, babe.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

“Don’t you think that’s enough?” Caleb asks quietly, trying to take her sixth, or maybe it as seventh, drink away from her mouth.

Her hands anxiously grip the neck of the gin bottle trying to balance the alcohol and the sprite.

“Tom…” He says quietly, “The party’s barely started.”

“I’m fine.” She tells him, grabbing the drink from him, eyes casting one more glance around the room trying to spot the mop of brown curls that is yet to arrive.

Caleb sighs and nods, “I’m going to talk to Squire.”

“You do that.” She mutters into her glass, awkwardly leaning back against the counter and watching him leave.

Adam’s brow raises from across the counter top, “What?” She snaps and his brow goes even higher.

She moves to add even more gin but a hand is wrapping around hers on the neck of the bottle.

“Ross…” She whines trying to shimmy out of his hold.

“Just coming to warn you people out there aren’t hanging their coats and bags up together.”

“What?”

She scurries off, drink forgotten as she starts her rant of keeping their belongings together on one hanger.

George sighs, taking a swig of some whiskey from one of those mini gift set bottles, he grimaces and places it down as the three watch her pick up people’s belongings.

“Where’s Matty?”

Adam shrugs and Ross runs a hand down his face, “Was supposed to be here hours ago.”

“They haven’t talked since the fight.”

The three watch her have a hushed conversation with Caleb as she downs another drink before she’s pushing him away and heading outside.

Once the cool air hits her shoulder she sighs, hand dropping down and drink spilling over her bare feet.

“Watch yourself there.”

She turns quickly, that familiar scent she’s come accustomed to meeting her nose as a gust of wind pushes past them.

“You’re late.”

“Was right on time,” He tells her, “Got here at seven. Like you asked.”

“You’ve been outside for three hours?”

He shrugs and she looks down around his feet where eleven cigarette butts lay.

She reaches out, clenching her fist in a ‘give me’ motion and sets her drink on the steps out the front of her house.

He sighs, handing over the box of cigarettes, his lighter fitting tightly inside with the rest of the cigs.

“Why won’t you come in?”

She puts the cigarette in her mouth and lifts the lighter, eyes moving from the flickering flame in her hand to the one in his eyes as he steps closer to her.

His hand cups the flame, his other resting his half smoked cigarette between his lips as he flips it so the one on her mouth is the right way around.

“Your house is beautiful.”

“You haven't seen it.” She tells him, smoke blowing into his face as he takes the lighter back and tucks it carefully back into his pocket.

It's a cheap one, one of those ones you buy from a petrol station. She wonders where the lighter she got him is.

“Still pretty.”

“Still haven't seen it.”

He raises one eyebrow, pushing his long hair back over his head, “How much have you had to drink.”

She rolls her eyes, turning away, “God you sound like Cal.”

Matty steps back at that and she follows his movements, stepping closer to the front door. “Is that why you won’t come in?”

“No.”

“Then why?” She asks. She tries to sit on the step but ends up spilling her drink, the glass smashing all around her bare feet and Matty moves forward quickly when she hisses at the pain of stepping on it.

“Don’t move.”

“Why, Matt?”

She looks up at him, “Why won’t you come in? Why won’t you let me in? Why won’t you talk to me anymore?”

Matty ignores her, brushing his hand on the pavement to get rid of some glass before he kneels and takes her foot into his lap.

His thumb brushes the trail of blood and she tries to bring her foot back, but his grip is strong. Long slender fingers locked around her ankle, holding her there in place.  “Let me help.”

She rolls her eyes, “You’re mad thinking you could ever save me.” She tells him in a slur. Leaning forward and looking at him through her lashes, he forces his eyes away and back to the soul of her foot.

He nods to himself, carefully picking the shard out, he takes his phone out the back pocket, turning it on to shine the light on the cut, checking for any other shards that could be hidden.

“At least not looking like that.”

“Like what?” He questions quietly, trying to keep her chatting and her mind off of the pain.

She gestures one hand up and down him, “Some socratic junkie greaser wannabe.”

The door behind them opens, Caleb steps out.

“What happened?”

“She needs to get to bed.”

“I can handle my girlfriend, Healy, thanks.”

“Shouldn’t need to handle her.” Matty mumbles. Grateful that both George and Adam have also come out after seeing Caleb head outside.

“I’m fine.”

She pushes both of them away from her, standing with a slight limp and walking back inside, a bloodied footprint being left on the wooden floor as she makes her way to the living room.

“I’m going to bed. Button, come.”

The dog perks up from the settee where an old friend of hers from school was petting her, “Nigh night.”

Adam sighs, gesturing with a nod for George to watch the two men who are standing chest to chest outside as he follows Tommie upstairs.

He watches her shrug her button up off and pull a hoodie on, curling up on top of the covers, foot staining the white bed sheets.

Going to the bathroom he grabs a washcloth and wets it, dabbing at her foot as she lays still, eyes following Maty through the window as he moves down the long path towards the main road where a car is waiting.

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm?”

“With you? You’ve been acting weird past few days.”

“I told Caleb the truth.”

“Truth?”

“That I probably can’t love him.”

Adam sighs, moving to look through her draws until he finds an odd sock that he puts on her foot over the little star wars plaster he'd put on her foot.

“You can love him, if you want to,” He tells her, “Don't force anything.”

“In Georgia, his mother called me a whore, want to know what he said?”

Adam looks up at her, her eyes are still following Matty and his head of curls, “What did he say?”

She looks down, raising a brow as if to prove her point and he lifts his head in understanding, “Nothing?”

“Not a single word.”

Tommie shrugs, “I might not love him but I like him… care about him… maybe too much. Maybe that's why it hurts. I feel like he loves me, but he doesn't care about me.”

Caleb moves backwards, away from the crack in the door and looks down at his feet as he moves.

Ross claps him on the back and he flinches as the large hand stays on his shoulder for a few long moments, “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah... yeah, gonna head to bed.”

Ross nods, “Don’t wake me until after eleven, or I’ll bite your dick off.”

He nods, “Noted.”

He turns back to the bedroom door, watching Adam who is now sitting on the edge of the bed brush some hair from her forehead to place a kiss there and a whispered goodnight.

The Hann boy pauses when he notices Caleb, his finger still hovering over the light switch by the door.

He steps outside, closing the door behind him, “Tommie’s different,” Adam decides to say, “Be gentle with her.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart

@indierockgirrl

@sofaritsalrightt

@julezs-bl0g

@eaglestar31

@sophinthealpss

@noacfemcel

@if-my-heart-bleeds

@befrwime

@fallingforel

@sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds

@3terna15unshin3

@1975sophie1975

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[scotianostra]

Angus McMillan a Scottish-born explorer, and pioneer was born on August 14th 1810 at Glen Brittle.

Sometimes difficult posts come up that I dislike, this is one such case. Angus McMillan was once revered as a pioneering hero. Today his reputation is in tatters, just one of many that orchestrated atrocities during the Empire building era in our history.

Born at Glen Brittle, Isle of Skye, fourth son of Ewen McMillan, sheep farmer, and his wife Marion, Angus received his education at home before the family moved to a larger property on the island of Barra. Against a backdrop of economic hardship, he chose to find his future in the colonies, arriving in New South Wales in January 1838 on the Minerva. His explorations led to the opening of the Gippsland region for pastoralism, displacing the Gunai Aboriginal people who were the traditional owners of the land.

Employed by Lachlan Macalister as an overseer, he moved first to the Clifton station near Camden and then further south to Currawang on the Monaro. In 1839, Macalister instructed McMillan to set up a cattle station at Numbla Munjie, near what is now Omeo, where McMillan was involved in massacres of the Aborigines in retaliation for their herding of cattle.

Around this time McMillan and five other men set out on an expedition to find grazing land and a harbour on the Gippsland coast. They explored many of the rivers and lakes, but were forced to return to Numbla Munjie when they ran short of food.

During 1840, McMillan set up another cattle station for Macalister near the mouth of the Avon River, and also his own station, Bushy Park, further upstream. From here, McMillan made two unsuccessful attempts to reach the coast at Corner Inlet. On his third attempt, in February 1841, he finally reached the coast, near where the Albert River flows into the inlet.

In July 1843 at Warrigal Creek, McMillan and his Highland Brigade surrounded a large group of Gunaikurnai people and mercilessly shot between 60 and 150 men, women and children.

The killings were a reprisal for the murder of his bosses nephew, Ronald Macalister, who was ambushed by a group of Gunaikurnai men he had chased out of his shop hours earlier. McMillan led five more massacres after that, at Nuntin, Boney Point, Maffra, Skull Creek and Butchers Creek.

The Australian author P. D. Gardner investigated the massacres and wrote” Our Founding Murdering Father: Angus Mc Millian And The Kurnai Tribe Of Gippsland” exposing the true story of McMillands deeds.

Over a period of 15 years the indigenous population of the Kurnai people of Gippsland fell from 2,000 to just 216.

Over the last few years some have fought to try and restore McMillan’s name to some extent, but no matter how you look at it seems undeniable that McMillan was involved in the deaths of some Aborigines, that for me personally is enough to justify his disgrace, and the title that has become synonymous with him, “the butcher of Gippsland”.

Another book that told McMillan’s story, Thicker than Water, was written by McMillan’s great-great-niece, Cal Flyn. You can read more from him on the following link to the article “My relative was a mass murderer of Australia's Gunai people. Can I make amends?”

https://www.theguardian.com/.../aboriginal-sorry-day...

[cathkaesque]

Year in review, cathkaesque wrapped

Completed Very Big Very Cool Farmworker Report, which I'm still super pleased about. Everything I proposed was completed.

Went to Morocco for Very Big Very Cool international gathering

Basically completed transition - got all my documents in order, 2 years HRT, laser hair removal in process. I can take or leave srs so I'm basically exactly where I want to be now

Got asthma and celiac diagnoses - my lungs are better, I can finally put on weight, but my reflux issues are unfortunately uncurable (hiatial hernia)

Relatedly, spent most of February scrubbing black mould off my walls

Looking back on it, from mid-Feb/March I had an extremely bad mental breakdown that took up a good chunk of the year to recover from. Combination of all my work being due and none of it being done around March, huge trans panic in the press, trying to get all my documentation in order because the panic in the press scared the hell out of me, serious relationship issues...it was very bad. I had to move back in with my parents for much of the year while I sorted my shit out

Broke up with my bf but we got back together - the time apart sucked so bad and made us both extremely insane and unwell but it forced us to rectify serious ongoing issues in our relationship rather than letting them fester. I feel we've emerged from it stronger and things are going better than they ever have before so that is pretty wonderful. I just wish I could've resolved these things in a less dramatic, less damaging way.

Went on a lovely holiday in South Wales, and also a little weekend break in Kent

Drove 1250 miles in about 2 weeks

Went to my first festival (do not want to do that again, I hate the West)

Relatedly, wrote off my car because I was very tired from driving that much. I don't miss the responsibility of driving or owning a car at all, and I'm saving tonnes of money, but I really miss the ability to go on little trips to obscure places

Went to London a million times for work meetings

Sadly a lot of the international union work I've been involved with over the last few years has collapsed due to infighting in the international organisation. You have a situation where both the workers' union in Spain and one of the employer unions are affiliated to the same international organisation. The employer union is a lot bigger and unsurprisingly this is too unstable a mix to function and they reacted in a way that broke the rural workers' work I have been involved in. I am very pissed off as the result was issues the workers union really needed to be addressed never got looked at and someone who was very, very dedicated to the cause got forced out of their position because of it. Disgusted. I invested so much of myself into that work so I am trying to decouple my political activism from my work life to prevent this from happening again.

At the same time I had similar issues within my own workplace, especially after larger farmers' organisations reacted strongly against my report. I ended up having a big meeting with lots of them where I performed okay despite having a panic attack prior to it. So hopefully that will have been dealt with now.

Managed to have a healthier relationship to weed which is good

I got super into Flames of War and I'm really enjoying that, I love the models and painting my little guys has been so much fun.

But yeah. All in all a super, super hard year, especially the first 8 months of it, but this was due to overdue problems that needed to get solved, and they got solved. I hope things will be easier next year.

[legacygirlingreen]

May 1889 // Farmer Sebastian Sallow x Reader (part 1)

The prologue.

Warnings: parent death

Word count: 800

Masterlist here

Life is emotionally abusive… 

When their widowed mother dragged her and her younger siblings from the only home she had ever known, she was angry. Kicking and screaming, she fought the decision all the way to the United Kingdom.  Their mother brought the remainder of their broken family to the Scottish highlands, where she’d grown up to move in with the kids' dying grandmother. Having spent her childhood rarely visiting the small hamlet of Feldcroft, it hardly felt like home, but instead a strange land in which she was dragged a handful of times. 

The rugged countryside with its cold winters and windy coastline were a far cry from the ever stretching fields of lavender on the Mediterranean she had grown up with. The way the sun cast the lovely bronze on her skin, despite its more fair nature - thanks to her mother’s northern roots unfortunately - always made her feel alive. Moving to a place that hardly experienced a summer at all, instead of the many months of warmth, only further added to the cold and isolating feelings she bore at the loss of her father.

Her father, the ever charming and playful man, had met her mother while visiting London for work. The two, having made such a profound connection in only a matter of days, lead to him whisking her away from the UK to marry and live with him in the south of France. Their whirlwind romance had always been an epic tale of love, devotion and laughter, told over the dinner table and as a bedtime story. 

His passing had been so sudden. The man unfortunately had been killed for his research on magical plants, by a traveling rogue wizard. Later apprehended in Wales, the British ministry reached out to offer condolences. Pairing that with a pain existing in a place without her love, it made sense to her why her mother had left France, despite how much it hurt her and her siblings. 

As they finally arrived via the floo flame in Feldcroft on a late May evening, they were greeted by the sight of their very old, sickly looking grandmother. Their grandfather passed away a few years back, and they’d revived the owl. Their mother left for the funeral alone, before she returned to take care of them. 

Standing in the brisk May air with her siblings, and a simple suitcase housing all her possessions she tried not to grimace. Rickety looking houses, ruins of a castle nearby, cows just simply walking around unattended. The place looked… interesting. 

As her Scottish grandmother made her way down the line reuniting with her younger siblings and mother before making the way in front of her. Reaching out, sensing the panic and fear rolling off her in waves, her grandmother simply offered a small hand, allowing her to take it instead of forcing affections on to her. A fact she appreciated. 

Allowing her grandmother to cup her palm in her old hands, she leaned up to kiss the old woman on the cheek in greeting, before continuing to scan the area. At the house next door she could see broken fences as well as a man grumbling around trying to force sheep back inside. Distracted, she stared until her grandmother broke her out of a trance.  

“That’s Solomon Sallow, former auror. He’s an… interesting man I admit. Has a set of twins in his care a few years older than you, but they are off to Hogwarts this time of year. Their parents died a few years ago, poor things. Anyways, come along dear, you’ll have the loft entirely to yourself” her grandmother said with a small smile and a comforting squeeze before dropping her hand. She tore her eyes away from the gentleman having successfully used his wand to repair the broken fence around his sheep. 

“Did you say former auror?” Her mother, Evelyn, asked her Gran, as the old woman nodded. 

“Yes. He’s a bit grumpy, but it’s nice to know someone who can put dark magic in its place is nearby” Gran said, hoping to ease the tension. 

“Well… that’s comforting to know. Did you hear that y/n? She said that he takes care of twins not much older than you. Perhaps you could make a friend or two” her mother offered and she shrugged, wanting to curl up in bed and sleep. The fatigue of missing her father daily still weighed heavily and after traveling she just wanted to rest. 

In hindsight, she wished she had paid more attention to the conversation between her mother and grandmother as they ushered the family inside, as it told all about the boy next door…

[ukrfeminism]

Though British farming is arguably at the most precarious point in its long history – thanks to changes caused by Brexit and food industry subsidies, lack of clear food production policies and increased concern over environmental issues – more women than ever are choosing a career in agriculture and, more importantly, moving into leadership roles.

Back in the 1970s, Holly Collins was studying for her A-levels in Sussex. While her friends sent off their university applications, she wrote to the Royal Agricultural College asking for an entry form, hoping to follow her dream of becoming a farmer.

“They wrote back with the following answer: ‘Dear Miss Collins, we do not admit women.’”

Undeterred, she worked on a farm the following summer: “A lot of the tasks then were manual labour, so I’d just turn up at the farm gate and ask for a job. I was paid much less than the male students I worked with because I was female. The farmer’s father told him that, because I was the hardest worker, he should pay me the same as them – but he didn’t.”

Things, says the 64-year-old who now has her own upland farm, Hollin Bank, at the head of Coniston Water in the Lake District, have improved a lot for women in agriculture since then.

Though British farming is arguably at the most precarious point in its long history – thanks to changes caused by Brexit and food industry subsidies, lack of clear food production policies and increased concern over environmental issues – more women than ever are choosing a career in agriculture and, more importantly, moving into leadership roles.

Minette Batters, the first ever female president of the National Farmers’ Union of England and Wales (NFU), may have stepped down this spring after six years in office, but women are still well represented in the union, with Rachel Hallos, a South Pennines farmer, installed as NFU vice-president and Abi Reader as deputy president for NFU Cymru. The Great Yorkshire Show has just got its first female show director in its 186-year history – dairy farmer Rachel Coates takes over after this year’s show in July. In the field of specialist skills, the UK has also just appointed its first female wool grader. Amy-Jo Barton, 22, is based at British Wool (formerly the British Wool Marketing Board) in Bradford where she sorts wool by hand based on style and characteristics; a job she finds “very therapeutic”.

While women comprised 17% of farmers in 2019, data from the Office for National Statistics for 2023 shows that of the 104,700 registered farmers, 22% are female. In the broader category of managers in agricultural services, women make up 32% of the workforce. According to recent figures from the Higher Education Statistics Agency, 64% of agricultural students are women. For an industry that historically relies on father-to-son succession to pass on land and which used to exclude women from many of its educational establishments, farming has come a long way.

Coates, incoming director of the Great Yorkshire Show, says: “Women have always been the backbone of a farm. Now they’re no longer in the kitchen tied to the Aga, they’re at the forefront of the industry. It’s good to see this take-up of leadership roles.”

Louisa Dines, principal lecturer in agronomy at Harper Adams University in Shropshire, thinks farming has lagged behind in terms of gender diversity but is finally catching up with other industries.

“Farmers’ wives and daughters were always important – farms are typically family businesses and intertwined with home life – but women used to operate below the radar,” she says. “Historically local meetings were in the pub or village hall. Wives often weren’t invited or had to look after the children. Even if they did go, it can be intimidating walking into a room full of men, but new communication platforms – such as social media and video conferencing – have made it easier for women to take part.”

There are more than 14,000 members of the Facebook group Ladies Who Lamb and farmers such as the Yorkshire Shepherdess and the Red Shepherdess have huge followings on TikTok and Instagram. Dines says she recently attended an agritech conference to promote links between women in farming in Poland, Ukraine and England. Previously these women had worked in isolation but not had a sense of community. “It was so interesting to see how far we’ve come.”

Traditions need to change more, though. The average age of a British farmer is 59 and the business is still typically passed down the male side of the family. A 2022 survey in Northern Ireland found that inheritance was the second biggest challenge faced by women in farming. The biggest was male dominance.

Molly Lewis, whose family have farmed sheep on 250 acres of pasture in Powys, Wales, for 350 years, says this attitude is starting to shift. The 20-year-old plans to take over when her father and his brother retire. She splits her time between working in the family business and the local agricultural market.

“In the past, sometimes men felt pressured to take on the farm even if their heart wasn’t in it, but now it goes to whoever is interested. I’ve noticed a lot more women happily getting involved. It feels natural, especially here. We have an open hill farm in the Elan Valley, and do a lot of community work with all our neighbours. You see women and girls on the hills doing the same jobs as the men and no one thinks anything of it.”

Lewis also talks of the community’s fury at the Welsh government’s sustainable farming scheme – the post-Brexit plan for funding the industry which includes ensuring 10% of farmland is under tree cover.

Collins’s farm has low densities of mixed livestock and a nice sideline in educational courses teaching traditional farming skills such as dry stone walling and coppicing. It’s currently host to two masters students researching finance and birdlife. She brought in two women – Megan Jones and Katherine Andrews – to manage Hollin Bank alongside her.

She says she has had difficulties with “a lack of respect” from male farmers. “But I am learning at a late age and from the wonderful young women who work with me that you don’t have to instil fear in others to succeed in this very male world. We try to be warm and encouraging of anyone who is interested. I’m not sure this is a ‘female’ attitude to farming but I suspect it might be.”

None of the three at Hollin Bank grew up in agricultural families, bucking the tradition of succession. While Collins had a “striking ambition” to farm her whole life, her colleagues originally worked in conservation and nature restoration.

“As 70% of the UK is farmland, I wanted to understand how conservation and agriculture intertwine,” says Andrews. “I also believe we need to localise the food economy to save food miles, create jobs and deepen our connection to the land.”

If farming is in crisis it may be this new generation who look to change the status quo who will be able to find a resolution. All of them seem keen to evolve. Coates’s big ambition for the Yorkshire Agricultural Society is to engage young people because “we need to make farming relevant – there are going to be changes in agriculture over the next few years and we need to adapt”.

Dines points to the increased importance of marketing and communication – from farm shops and crafts to environmentally friendly farming practice – “all the public-facing activities at which women excel”.

Jones, who worked in restoration before joining Hollin Bank two years ago, also points to the need for communication within the indusry as well as with the public.

“We need to strengthen food systems that value farmers’ extensive knowledge of the landscapes they work in,” she says. “I think we need to listen to farmers and figure out what works financially and ecologically. How can we build resilient ecosystems?”

The reason so many more women have moved into farming is perhaps best explained when Jones talks about what she enjoys most about her work.

“My favourite thing about working on a farm is the daily and seasonal rhythms. Each day you adapt and respond to the environment and the animals. Days when we move the sheep or cows are always good days, walking with them is like a moving meditation. For someone who spent very little time doing practical work growing up, I find working with my hands very rewarding and empowering – especially as a woman.”

[myconetted]

The cactus quickly became a widespread invasive weed in the dry interior climate west of the Great Dividing Range, in New South Wales and Queensland,[18] eventually converting 260,000 km2 (101,000 sq mi) of farming land into an impenetrable green jungle of prickly pear, in places 6 m (20 ft) high. Scores of farmers were driven off their land by what they called the "green hell", and their abandoned homes were crushed under the cactus growth, which advanced at a rate of 400,000 hectares (1,000,000 acres) per year.[19]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opuntia

[dailyanarchistposts]

What Was Ours Is Now Theirs

The huge increase in the urban population of 19th Century Britain was accompanied by dysentery, typhoid and cholera.

The poor were blamed for cholera outbreaks, the result of their ‘ignorance’, lack of hygiene and general moral depravity. The prevailing orthodoxy was that laissez-faire capitalism and the management of water property for profit would provide solutions. It didn’t, and both municipal and state solutions – public ownership and management of water resources – were needed to solve the problem. Eventually it was recognised that easy access to a clean water supply was a basic human need, via the Public Health Acts. But with the re-emergence of neo-liberal and neo-conservative ideas about the role of the state and the importance of market solutions to social problems, all this is changing.

Britain is water rich, with adequate rainfall and only occasional water shortages. Until recently, water was generally seen as a common good and water planners saw any form of supply restriction, even a hosepipe ban, as an admission of failure. Regional water authorities pooled access to water resources and made long term plans for a London ring main, recharging aquifers from winter river water. People and organisations cooperated to manage water resources relatively effectively and to save water when it was needed, such as during the drought of 1975/76. However, water was privatised by the Tories in 1989, despite defeat in The House of Lords and the threat of prosecution by the EU on water quality standards, attacks by environmental groups over standards and questions about the fate of water authorities’ huge land holdings. As a result, the average household experienced an increase in water costs of 67% between 1989 and 1995. Company profits rose by an average of 20% to 1993 and are still high. The highest charging area of Britain, South West Water, took 4.9% of income from a household of 2 adults and 2 children, 7.6% from a lone parent and child and 9.1% from single pensioners in 1994. The profits of the water supply companies are being subsidised by the poorest people in Britain, those least able to pay. Thousands of households now regularly have their water supply cut off. In the Sandwell Health Authority area (in the West Midlands), over 1,400 households were cut off in 1991/2 and cases of hepatitis and dysentery rose tenfold. In 1994 2m households fell into water arrears, with 12,500 disconnected. Half of the water companies in England and Wales have selectively introduced or are testing pre-payment meters. The increased use of metering, most often in poorer households, has either increased water bills or resulted in forced cuts in water use by those who need it most. Non-payers are automatically cut off and the supply is not restored until the debt is paid. 10,000 meters have been installed in Birmingham since 1992; there have been over 2,000 disconnections. The water companies have responded to increasing criticism of their disconnection policies by devoting a tiny proportion of their profits to charitable trusts that help the poorest customers. This is pure PR and gives the corporations tax advantages. In the 1980s and in 1994–96, community campaigns defeated attempts to introduce water taxes in Dublin; see Issue 3 of ‘Red and Black Revolution’ for an excellent analysis.

Encouraged by a surge of prosperity in the 1960s, the Spanish have ignored the fact that they live in a semi-arid country prone to periodic, lengthy droughts. Golf courses have been built for tourists, swimming pools for themselves and there are many lawns and gardens requiring daily watering. Farmers have diversified from their traditional drought resistant produce such as figs and olives into water-hungry crops like rice and strawberries. The result is that Spain is now the world’s 4th highest per capita consumer of water after the US, Canada and Russia. Now it has to build huge dams and pay the cost to divert rivers to over-developed areas, amid growing environmental and community opposition. Other factors (which apply elsewhere) are laws giving producers the right to squander resources so long as there is a consumer demand to be satisfied; and the role of the centralised State (largely controlled by business influences), with its control of revenue, command of resources, expertise and power to enforce policy on citizens, in arbitrating the management of resources.

[tunglo]

Searching for mysterious welsh disappearances today and not really getting anywhere. 

The 1900 case of Tom Jones who went missing from outside his grandfather’s farm in the Brecon Beacons is sometimes brought up in UFO/alternative lit, but it’s not especially convincing. (Jones was a tired and disorientated 5-yr-old. There were streams nearby, long undergrowth, and all the local farmers/shepherds/etc were agreed an adult body could easily lay undiscovered for months, let alone the weeks it took to find Jones’ body.)

In 1902 Willie Llewellyn, a 5-yr-old from Aberdare who spoke no English, disappeared from his mother’s side at the Co-op Store in Aberaman. This sparked an absolutely massive manhunt, with all the local pits closed for days as thousands of people searched. He was eventually found a few weeks later laying in the open on Pen-y-Fan. Daniel Morgan, the Cwmbran born ex-Scotland yard detective hired to work on the case (not his PI namesake who was infamously murdered with an axe in 1987...), was convinced that the boy must have been lured away by someone, but the coroner’s inquest determined he had just been trying to walk home, got lost, and died of exposure.

Then in August 1905 3-yr-old Edwin Pincott went missing from his home in Abertillery. Some 8,000 miners downed tools to look for him, along with thousands of other volunteers. His body was eventually found the following July by a farmer in Cwmtillery - aka ground the kid could have covered.

Like, the three together had a big impact on south wales culture, people’s understanding of mining and community, etc. You could write a whole book alone on the Victorian instinct to blame every single missing child case on ‘gipsies’.  But, they’re not really ~mysterious~. Maybe I should just be more willing to bullshit on these cases...

[scotianostra]

Angus McMillan a Scottish-born explorer, and pioneer was born on August 14th 1810 at Glen Brittle.

Sometimes difficult posts come up that I dislike, this is one such case. Angus McMillan was once revered as a pioneering hero. Today his reputation is in tatters, just one of many that orchestrated atrocities during the Empire building era in our history.

Born at Glen Brittle, Isle of Skye, fourth son of Ewen McMillan, sheep farmer, and his wife Marion, Angus received his education at home before the family moved to a larger property on the island of Barra. Against a backdrop of economic hardship, he chose to find his future in the colonies, arriving in New South Wales in January 1838 on the Minerva. His explorations led to the opening of the Gippsland region for pastoralism, displacing the Gunai Aboriginal people who were the traditional owners of the land.

Employed by Lachlan Macalister as an overseer, he moved first to the Clifton station near Camden and then further south to Currawang on the Monaro. In 1839, Macalister instructed McMillan to set up a cattle station at Numbla Munjie, near what is now Omeo, where McMillan was involved in massacres of the Aborigines in retaliation for their herding of cattle.

Around this time McMillan and five other men set out on an expedition to find grazing land and a harbour on the Gippsland coast. They explored many of the rivers and lakes, but were forced to return to Numbla Munjie when they ran short of food.

During 1840, McMillan set up another cattle station for Macalister near the mouth of the Avon River, and also his own station, Bushy Park, further upstream. From here, McMillan made two unsuccessful attempts to reach the coast at Corner Inlet. On his third attempt, in February 1841, he finally reached the coast, near where the Albert River flows into the inlet.

In July 1843 at Warrigal Creek, McMillan and his Highland Brigade surrounded a large group of Gunaikurnai people and mercilessly shot between 60 and 150 men, women and children.

The killings were a reprisal for the murder of his bosses nephew, Ronald Macalister, who was ambushed by a group of Gunaikurnai men he had chased out of his shop hours earlier. McMillan led five more massacres after that, at Nuntin, Boney Point, Maffra, Skull Creek and Butchers Creek.

The Australian author P. D. Gardner investigated the massacres and wrote” Our Founding Murdering Father: Angus Mc Millian And The Kurnai Tribe Of Gippsland” exposing the true story of McMillands deeds.

Over a period of 15 years the indigenous population of the Kurnai people of Gippsland fell from 2,000 to just 216.

Over the last few years some have fought to try and restore McMillan’s name to some extent, but no matter how you look at it seems undeniable that McMillan was involved in the deaths of some Aborigines, that for me personally is enough to justify his disgrace, and the title that has become synonymous with him, “the butcher of Gippsland”.

Another book that told McMillan’s story, Thicker than Water, was written by McMillan’s great-great-niece, Cal Flyn. You can read more from him on the following link to the article “My relative was a mass murderer of Australia's Gunai people. Can I make amends?”

https://www.theguardian.com/.../aboriginal-sorry-day...

[scottbiffin]

Cotton Trading Chronicles- Life on the Road Between Singapore and Australia

Cotton is one of the world’s oldest and most traded commodities, with a history that spans centuries and crosses continents. The modern cotton trade is an industry rooted in tradition yet heavily influenced by the latest in global supply chain innovations, market analytics, and sustainable practices. The life of a cotton trader is dynamic, involving not just the daily hustle of navigating prices and contracts, but also a significant amount of travel between key trading hubs like Singapore and Australia.

For many in this industry, cotton trading is not just a job—it’s a lifestyle. Traders are constantly on the road, meeting suppliers, coordinating logistics, and ensuring quality. This post will take you inside the journey of a cotton trader as they travel between Singapore and Australia, giving you a closer look at the life, challenges, and unique experiences of those who keep the global cotton supply chain running.

Understanding Cotton Trading

Cotton trading involves buying and selling cotton as a raw material, and prices can vary significantly based on quality, origin, and global market trends. Cotton is not only a major commodity in textiles but is also used in a range of products, from medical supplies to paper.

Cotton trading is a global business with primary markets in the United States, India, Australia, and Central Asia, while trading hubs like Singapore serve as critical points for negotiation, financing, and coordination. Traders balance these demands, working with everyone from farmers to manufacturers, navigating various regulations, market pressures, and sometimes even extreme weather conditions that can impact production.

A Cotton Trader's Journey Between Singapore and Australia

In the modern cotton trade, travel is an essential part of the job. While virtual meetings are convenient, nothing replaces the value of face-to-face interactions when inspecting quality, negotiating contracts, or building relationships with suppliers. This journey often takes cotton traders between Singapore, a major financial and trading hub, and Australia, a key cotton-producing region known for its high-quality output.

The Role of Singapore in Cotton Trading

Singapore has become a global hub for commodities trading, and cotton is no exception. The country’s strategic location, strong legal framework, and world-class infrastructure make it an ideal base for traders. In Singapore, cotton traders manage operations and finances, secure contracts with buyers, and monitor the futures market. They work closely with analysts and other professionals who help them keep track of market trends, price fluctuations, and global news that could impact cotton prices.

Singapore’s role as a trading hub also means that traders have access to cutting-edge technology and resources. Advanced software and market analysis tools allow them to make data-driven decisions, optimize their contracts, and anticipate trends.

The Cotton Fields of Australia

Australia is one of the world’s most reliable cotton producers, known for its high-quality fiber. Australian cotton farms, primarily located in New South Wales and Queensland, are known for adopting sustainable farming practices and leveraging technology to maximize efficiency. As such, many international traders travel to Australia to source premium cotton for their clients.

When traders visit Australia, they don’t just spend time in boardrooms; they head to the farms. Meeting with cotton growers face-to-face is essential to understanding the quality of the crop, building trust, and discussing future orders. These trips also allow traders to better understand the challenges farmers face, including water availability, weather patterns, and labor issues. This knowledge is crucial for traders as it helps them make better-informed decisions and manage risks associated with supply disruptions.

A Day in the Life: On the Road as a Cotton Trader

Traveling between Singapore and Australia, cotton traders lead a fast-paced, demanding lifestyle. Here’s a closer look at a typical day for a trader on the road.

5:30 AM – Morning Market Updates

For a cotton trader, the day often starts early with a cup of coffee and a thorough review of the market. This is the time to check cotton futures, review recent reports, and analyze any overnight market movements. A drop in futures or a sudden change in currency exchange rates can significantly impact profit margins.

The early hours are crucial for making quick decisions, particularly if there's a need to lock in prices or hedge against market risks. Traders use a variety of tools to stay on top of market data, including proprietary analytics software and news from global commodity exchanges.

7:00 AM – Calls with Singapore Headquarters

Before setting off, traders usually touch base with their teams back in Singapore. This call often involves discussing the current market, reviewing client contracts, and identifying any updates or adjustments needed to meet targets. If any pressing issues arise—such as a delay in a shipment or an unexpected price change—traders collaborate with their team to create a solution.

9:00 AM – Meeting with Cotton Producers

In Australia, visiting cotton farms is a vital part of a trader's trip. Meeting producers allows traders to see the crop quality firsthand and discuss production forecasts. This face-to-face interaction builds trust and strengthens partnerships with suppliers, which is essential for securing high-quality cotton at competitive rates.

On the farm, traders engage in detailed conversations with farmers about everything from weather conditions to anticipated yields. This helps traders evaluate the quality of the cotton and assess potential challenges in the supply chain. They may even participate in quality inspections, examining cotton samples to ensure they meet the standards required by their clients.

12:00 PM – Lunch with Local Suppliers

Networking is an essential aspect of a trader’s job, and lunch is often a time to connect with local suppliers, logistics partners, and other traders. These lunches are more than just meals—they’re a chance to build relationships, discuss the latest trends, and explore potential collaborations. In the trading business, trust is everything, and taking the time to nurture relationships is crucial for success.

2:00 PM – Quality Inspections and Documentation

After lunch, traders often conduct a more thorough quality inspection of the cotton. They examine samples for fiber length, color, strength, and consistency. Cotton buyers and manufacturers have high standards, and any inconsistencies could lead to dissatisfaction or financial losses. Documenting these inspections is essential, as it provides a record that can be shared with clients and helps establish quality assurance for each batch.

4:00 PM – Negotiating Contracts

Afternoons are usually reserved for the negotiation process. Cotton prices can be volatile, influenced by everything from exchange rates to environmental factors, so pricing discussions require careful consideration. Traders must balance the price demands of their suppliers with the budgets of their clients, ensuring everyone benefits from the transaction.

Negotiations also include discussions about logistics, timelines, and any special requirements from the client. For example, a client might request organic cotton or cotton certified by a sustainability program, which could affect the price and availability of the product.

6:00 PM – End-of-Day Wrap-Up and Planning

After a day spent on the road and in meetings, traders finally get a chance to wrap up and organize their notes. They check in with their Singapore headquarters, sharing insights gained from the day and making any necessary adjustments to contracts or orders. This wrap-up session allows traders to review their goals, prepare for the next day, and ensure all details are in place for a smooth transaction.

Challenges in Cotton Trading

The life of a cotton trader is demanding, and the industry comes with its own set of challenges:

Market Volatility: Cotton prices are influenced by a wide range of factors, from weather conditions and currency exchange rates to trade policies and global demand. Traders must constantly monitor these factors to make timely decisions.

Sustainability Concerns: Modern consumers demand eco-friendly and sustainable products, putting pressure on traders to source cotton that meets these standards. This can limit options and impact profit margins, especially as sustainable cotton production is often more costly.

Supply Chain Disruptions: Natural disasters, transportation delays, and political changes can all disrupt the cotton supply chain, affecting traders' ability to meet client needs on time.

Client Demands: Clients may have specific requirements regarding the quality, origin, or sustainability of cotton, which can make sourcing more challenging and time-consuming.

Despite these challenges, many traders are passionate about their work. The cotton trade is an exciting and rewarding field that requires adaptability, strong negotiation skills, and a deep understanding of both the product and the market.

Reflections on a Unique Lifestyle

The life of a cotton trader, particularly one who travels between Singapore and Australia, is marked by long hours, constant learning, and a unique blend of challenges and rewards. Each day offers something different, whether it's negotiating with a new supplier, analyzing market trends, or inspecting a batch of cotton in the Australian sun.

For those drawn to this career, it’s more than just a job; it’s a lifestyle. Cotton trading requires a passion for the product, a willingness to navigate complex challenges, and the drive to bridge the gap between producers and consumers. It’s a journey filled with purpose, where every negotiation and inspection brings the trader one step closer to delivering high-quality cotton to the world.

So next time you see a cotton garment, remember the intricate journey that brought it to you. Behind that piece of fabric is a trader who has spent hours on the road, balancing markets, building relationships, and ensuring quality—all to bring you the best cotton possible.