The Charmer was a 1987 British televisionserial set in the 1930s, and starring Nigel Havers as Ralph Ernest Gorse, a seducing conman, Rosemary Leach as Joan Plumleigh-Bruce, a smitten victim widow and Bernard Hepton as Donald Stimpson, Plumleigh-Bruce’s would-be beau, who vengefully pursues Gorse after he has conned her.
I remember watching the whole series. Very enlightening!
I KNOW a SNAKE when I come across one.
They are also called KARMICS.
Karmics come into our lives to teach a necessary but extremely CRUEL lesson.
You have to thank them for the warning that cobras ARE poisonous. And it’s quite daft to ever go near another one.
I have had the great fortune to be critiqued by some amazing writers.
A critique partner is the best friend who tells you that you smell – or your writing is absolute crap.
My writing and real life C.P’s became really good friends and mentors to me. They made me laugh. They made me cry. They MADE me learn.
I used to belong to a critique forum….many moons ago and I went word by word, line by line through someone else’s work and critiqued it. She was fine about everything but I got thrown off the forum for being too Critical and not a smoke-up-the-arse-blower (?!?!)
My BEST ADVICE to anyone is WRITE A BOOK. And get it critiqued. Your entire world/ego will collapse. Fact!
Long story short Set hated his brother Osiris. Cut him to pieces and threw them all over the place. Isis, the wife of Osiris, was pretty angry and upset so she searched for all parts of her lover, all over the place.
She found every part of him except one.
Then she had a child, Horus. Without ….urm….just without “that” part of her man.
So many give so much away by the tone of their voice when they speak.
Long time ago a yt “truther” did something about Stonehenge in Wiltshire (used to be en route to my place of work) and he quoted the Where Virgins LIE sentence with such V enom & disgust in his voice that it could only come from somewhere deeply personal and painful.
Not long ago the same person brought up Stonehenge again and one of the comments stated – with UTMOST AUTHORITY – that Stonehenge was built in the 1950’s.
Not my first mention of this monument by a long way but, like all my work, if it doesn’t work for the them, it will be ignored. FACT!
As we are now in June and less than three weeks away from the Summer Solstice, my thoughts have turned to Stonehenge – a place I used to drive past twice a day and have visited several times. Though never on Midsummer’s Eve or Night. Cue Shakespeare?
Titania, Titania. Wherefore Art Thou, Titania (?)
We are in 1620.
Did you know that George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, best mate of both James I Stuart and his son Charles I Stuart (and nemesis of one Walter Montagu!) offered an obscene amount of money to buy Stonehenge from it’s owner, Robert Newdyk?
Newdyk declined but “the King’s Favourite” still stomped all over the property doing archaeological digs and helping James to remove an altar stone that was subsequently taken to St James’ Palace, Westminster.
Strange but true ?
Funny how not a single one of them likes a single that is ACTUAL HISTORICAL RESEARCH.
This is a smell that was part of my life for a few years.
I was once told as a child that every country has it’s own smell. Well – UAE smells of oud.
Everywhere you go, they burn this incense. I bought loads home with me, along with charcoal blocks. My traveller-in-crime and I even got lost and abandoned in the souk in Old Dubai searching for the best oud. Absolute True Truth.
Recently I came across the product above on ama z on. Nag Champa has been my go to incense for almost a quarter of a century so I knew it’d be good.
WOW. The house smells like the Middle East right now :o)
I’ve spent too long doing this stuff. Just to have it all ripped apart by the “We Always Win” crew.
Nah. Not any more, mes braves.
Go back. Go way, way back to my posts from 2018/2019 when I tear the Romans apart. Especially Julius Caesar and all that crap.
HIS – story is real. It’s all HIS Story. When you dive deep into Fomenko and New Chronology and actually try to debunk them for over a decade. You’ll understand from whence I come.
Who drove a Spear into Christ’s side when he was on the cross?
And WHO one was of the killers of Julius Caesar?
Et tu Bruti?
Et tu Gaius Cassius Longinus?
And none of this has anything to do with Russia – the country as we know it today.
AEWAR has fallen down the same hole, methinks.
And yes. I’m overly sensitive right now. That’s the lot of a REAL EMPATH who FEELS every single knife/arrow/spear on their soul.
Apparently Herr A. Hitler was desperate to obtain the Spear of Destiny so that he could have magical power uber alles. And we all know how that ended. Follow a MYTH, disprove a myth.
NC postulates that the man known as Julius Caesar is a “reflection” of the myth known as “Jesus.”
I’m in my own private Circle of Hell chez Dante right now.
Or just keep on taking the piss out of me.
So over y’all :o)
P.S. Try looking into Wagner and Parsifal or Wolfram von Eschenbach’s Parzival or The Bleeding Spear of the Grail Castle or The Fisher King with his thigh stuck by a spear or Chiron the wounded or ? ? ?
My maternal family have been in Norfolk for centuries. We KNOW this via my second cousin Janet who did the whole family ancestry thing in church/parish/family/public records.
Why the excitement?
Ha. Twofold excitement.
I know a little about the History of my country. Even Roman History.
The ancient Catalans or Catalauni were one of the founding peoples of Gaul. However, in this article we will find that they were also from the British Isles. The supposed British tribe of the Catuvellauni or Catuvellans, is actually a branch of the people of the Catalauni or Catalans of Gaul that split due to the arrival of the people of the Belgians in their territory, in the area of the current Champagne (former Catalan or Catalaunian Plains).
The Catuvellauni were a Norfolk Tribe of “Ancient Brits”
Then we have the link with Norfolk and an ongoing obsession of mine (if you’ve been with me from the start, you’ll know this)
I saw something a while ago on yt about a new film that has an Asian bloke waking up from some accident and finding out that he’s out of time.
Life on Mars was a UK BBC series from about 2006, about a modern bloke who has an accident and wakes up in 1970’s Manchester.
1993, BBC gave us Goodnight Sweetheart.
In one episode of which Gary is back in wartime Britain (something he can do quite easily – ‘specially as he has a girlfriend there) and playing Beatles songs on the pub piano. Much to the delight of the regulars.
It’s a given in the UK that any Bank Holiday will be a wash out.
I was up at 5am this morning and it was raining. Almost 12 hours later, it’s still raining. Which is – in all honesty- a blessed relief.
All week the main road has been full of caravans on the way to the coast. Just for this weekend. And they are not piddly little boxes on wheels…….these are huge plush, all mod-cons fitted, able to sleep 8 people boxes on wheels.
I’m not a fan of caravans. A few horrible experiences in the past !
Maybe tomorrow the sun will put his hat back on again.
I love the idea of SICK SPANIARD – a yellowy olive.
JUDAS COLOUR- Silver.
TEMPS PERDU- I see this as a pale violet.
ANGRY MONKEY- Is red brown too obvious?
APE’S LAUGH- Again, a reddy colour. But only if they were always being pedantic
RESURRECTION – Oh Gawd! A blue-grey????
KISS ME DARLING – Pale pink, maybe.
MORAL SIN – Love this. A deep, vibrant, singing red.
TRISTAMI – Sorry, can only think of pepparami here. Oops.
SCRATCH FACE – Purpley (if there’s such a word)
SMOKED OX HAM COLOUR – Pinky, purpley (if it’s not a word, it should be!)
LOVE LONGINGS – Help!
CHIMNEY SWEEP – Too obvious????
FADING FLOWER – Mmmn. Pastel. Maybe like ashes of roses.
DYING MONKEY – Black, brown….ish
MERRY WIDOW – Deep Purple – nearly black but not quite.
This new recommendation looks wonderful.
Have you ever read about a Victorian dress, and wondered: “What color, exactly, is heliotrope?”Did you ever read an Elizabethan novel and say: “Did anyone really wear Puke?”When Chaucer wrote: “his eyen bright citrin” – did you wonder about what color is citrin?This book will tell you about color in history – the names of colors, when they were used, how they were used, what they looked like, and where they came from. There are dye recipes, paint ingredients, poetic language and general commentary – all in the words of period writers. Along with the glossary of color names, you will learn about mourning colors, the effects of artificial light on color, advice on what colors to wear, the colors found in cosmetics and theatrical make-up, and the names of the colors of horses. You can read about symbolism in colors, heraldic colors, and complaints about the names of colors. I have studied fashion magazines, books of dye recipes, art books, painter’s manuals, mineralogy guides, tomes on color theory, metaphysical texts, poetry and fiction, but especially period dictionaries and encyclopedias. Any resource that might give a hint on what a color looked like or how it may have been used was examined, from Chaucer to Chemistry Journals. Most of the entries were printed in English, American, Canadian and Australian publications from around 1380 to 1922. Because, French was the language of fashion, many of the English terms are French words. I have tried to explain those colors, too.This dictionary endeavors to define color names in the words of the English speaking people who used those colors. It is especially aimed at women’s fashion, but artists will also find it useful. Now in its second edition, “Elephant’s Breath and London Smoke” has more than 600 new and updated entries. If you are curious about color, you will want this book.
BTW. It’s coloUr. Too many letters in the word ? ? ?
This comment was published on FEB when my comment was taken over by a SHOUTER.
She was quoting MY WORK to me and when I picked her up on her spelling – Honourable (mine)
I invited her to read MY original work.
WOW. Just one single comment from a commenter who whored herself around the yt troother/tartaria community got me called EVIL by Martin Liedtke. And there endeth my public persona. DAMNED by others.
LOL.com sent me a comment asking how a housewife had the nerve to comment on the goings on in Hong Kong. I told LOL.com that when I went to Hong Kong I was the owner and director of a multi-national, international Security Company and there on business, not a jolly holiday.
Not a single person has ever believed a single word I’ve written. WHY?
Because they spend their entire lives in lies and can’t believe or see or comprehend a ABSOLUTE truth?
Everything that I’ve ever done via youtube has been twisted to the advantage of others. As I sat here at home reading email death threats against me and my children.
F A C T !
Somethings are unforgivable. In this life and the next.
It’s a running joke in this family….Me & My Aprons.
They are like an arm…or a brain cell. I CAN’T live without them.
I always have to have an apron with pockets. Why? Well, when you get asked for something obscure like a pencil/an AA battery/a lighter/pair of scissors/Local Chinese Restaurant Menu etc……you can go TahDah.
As for the wiping of the hands bit. From feeding the wildlife to checking the oil level on the car to dishwashing to cleaning the wood burner to cutting logs – an apron is a best friend.
I’ve always said that I’m a peasant. Sometimes, something comes along to remind me just how peasant-ish I am :o)
For some reason (?) the subject of posture has been relevant here for several days.
It began when eldest son stood up straight as…and I went to hug him. My head fit perfectly under his armpit. Oooh.
Then I watched a yt video about fitting a Victorian dress toile and was told that all original Historical Garments have the shoulder seams so far back that they will now lie behind a modern shoulder. ‘Cos we are lazy slumps.
I listened to a Miss Marple (Agatha Christie) book and was told that Jane Marple spent her girl hood school years using a back board to straighten her posture.
I’ve studied the Alexander Technique which teaches us to imagine a thread coming out of the very centre of our cranium and pulling the neck up and the chin level. The shoulders then automatically fall into place. Well. They should. But we have had our skeletal nature disformed by modern gadgets.
A head weighs – urm – a lot. And today we are all slumped/hunched, head forward, eyes on a screen etc.
I’ve always suffered from bad headaches/migraines. As a teenager I was once laughed at for my straight posture. Look at any dancer. Straight and aligned.
Himself gives me unexpected shoulder massages most days. My language can get fruity because of the pain involved but…..they are very welcome. In a strange way (!)
Sewing is a posture crippler and I’m all too aware of the fake history about Richard the Third.
He and his dearly beloved (sob sob – the woman I love) formed a pact. He was the puppet. She pulled the strings.
OMG. The total horror of their combined malice. SMH.
She wanted me to be the 101st UK citizen to die of Covid. She called me a dinosaur and a LARP. She was connected with the Jon Levi debacle where he posted a video connected to MY work given to him by her. I complained in comments – got so much hatred, humiliation and insults – and STILL fought them all. Levi pulled the video there and then.
She wasn’t finished. The fake name death threats into my email box. The fact that my dead father’s name suddenly became a very regular commenter on Martin Liedkte’s channel.
The fact that – for two solid years – EVERY SINGLE comment that I made on yt was liked and replied to. EVERYTHING. From history to gardening to urbex to tarot to astrology to whatever.
SHE knew that Christmas Eve is always a really hard time for me. I lost my child on Dec 24th and, four years later, buried my mother on the same date. So SHE and HE collaborated to bring out a Christmas Eve video. About GRAVES. And graveyards. And DEATH.
Now the effing dinosaurs are back. Yes. I’m over 50 and she and he ain’t. Hence the recent reptilian/dinosaur/fake history shit.
BTW – She called herself Venus. His other obsession is MARS.
Go f’kin’ figure at what their lives are really like. BARF.