…or “Don’t Make ‘Em Like They Used To?”
Two days ago I found an old report with life-shattering facts about my assignment due on Friday. “Wowee,” I said. “This is great. Now, I just have to get it down on paper.” And down it went!
Unfortunately, “down” doesn’t mean with me. I was so eager to follow up a footnote that I had found in one county with its corresponding source in another county that I left the paper with the sketches and some facts in that first library. Yeah, this is stuff that I should keep to myself.
In any event, I came back to Wiltshire early yesterday morning, and left just as soon. It was still where I left it. I love small towns, unless I’m stuck in them. I stopped only briefly to get some photos of newly discovered areas of importance…and Rallo, here. No idea what Rallo’s real name is or what type of dog Rallo is, or even his/her gender, but I will tell you that that granary Rallo is guarding is from the 15th C. Yeah. I don’t know if it’s a sheepdog but it should be called a conservationist dog. I’d hate to be an arsonist near Rallo.
(Ironically, the Barton Grange Farm Granary is now a hippie-enclave selling New Age mirrors and emotion rings with candles and incense lit everywhere. Pray for the Grade 1 Listed Granary.)
Okay, one of my principal joys in life is breaking onto the roofs of buildings. The fact that I was allowed up on top of Stowe House, now a school with a new lead roof, makes this only moderately cool. My pictures from rooftops, however, are never all that good. Since I was being let up to the roof right at Sunset, I figured the same would be true here but looking directly at the sun with the shadows may have enhanced this photo while hurting my camera. I try not to digitally alter the photos I present on the DP (except my attempts at Photoshop) so the same is true here–nothing has been touched or rotated (I may want to fix it later…).
BETHESDA, MD—According to sources at the Allstate Insurance Company, CIA Director Michael Hayden purchased nuclear-attack insurance Wednesday, paying a $100,000 monthly premium for his homes in suburban Washington, Pittsburgh, and near Cheyenne Mountain, CO. “It’s a typical nuclear policy that protects the insured from damages caused by fallout—pretty straightforward, though at that monthly rate, I don’t usually sell too many of them,” said Bethesda, MD–based Allstate agent Gary Rutter, adding that Hayden paid for the first premium with a certified bank check to guarantee that the policy would take effect no later than next Monday. “After he purchased the insurance, he asked again if everything was set for Monday. I assured him it was, and then he left.” Insurance agents throughout the D.C. area reported selling 35 such policies in the last week, all to high-ranking government officials.
So this was the most boring thing I ever had time to watch, back when I had time to watch things. Excited about this post? So am I.
This was from a while back, back when I was taking pictures of the Jane Austen film shoot at the Royal Crescent. I was waiting for one of their 45 minute breaks to end when I started listening to these three guys. They had been trying to decide where to put a new memorial plaque for this tree. Apparently, there was an old one on the stone but it was no more. Instead of putting a new one back on the stone, they wanted it hover above the ground. However, they weren’t going to remove the old stone “because the stone’s foundation was deep” and they’d need a shovel, or something. They didn’t want to test how deep but they had apparently called up a retired predecessor, interviewed him about this particular plaque, and decided that it was too much trouble to remove the stone.
I wasn’t paying too much attention then, and I’m not paying too much attention to what I’m typing now but the debate went as follows:
*If they placed the new and improved plaque in front of the stone, it’d be too far away from the tree
*If they placed the plaque in back of the tree, there’d be a relationship established but the rock would block the plaque.
-“Can we keep the stone but move the plaque to the other side of the tree.”
-“No, no. We need the plaque to relate to the Royal Crescent,” or something. I’m forgetting the exact reasons.
They discused the potential of tree roots, the effect of the growing tree trunk, the angle the plaque had to be at for the rainwater to wash off smut. In the course of these technicalities, Shakespeare was quoted, both Latin and Greek were spoken and the modern affect of classical education was explored. I listened to this for about an hour. I had nothing else to do. Then it started to rain and I left. But not them, they kept discussing the future of this memorial.
I should go back and see what they ended up doing with it.
My heart’s just not into this post. I could never take care of memorials for trees.
So it was the first and possibly only snowfall of the year here in Bath two days ago. You never really learn to love a place until you see it during a snowfall. Hearing this, my Brazilian neighbor told me not to visit his country. It started coming down fast in the early morning but was completely gone once the sun rose.
Won’t be checking here frequently for a few more days.
< You are SUCH a murderhole.
> Chut UP, slit!