#3july

[m-a-d-m-i-r-r-o-r]

Happy birthday to the dorkiest of dorks ❤️

[apureniallsource]

niallhoran: Happy birthday @s_mullz. met this lad when I was 4 years old and we’ve grown up together. He is my best friend and we’ve had some incredible memories together over the years. Here’s to many more Mister Mully .

[edwardianseafarer]

Bertram Held to the Flame

Opal found it hard to decide whether her favourite place in the world was Deauville or the Highlands, but she was never more excited than when June drew to a close and Mrs. Roche fell into her frenzy of packing for the “Queen of the Norman beaches,” as her father called the charming little French sea town where their lovely villa had been built. On June 26th, Mr. Treux saw off the trunks and other luggage, which always set off for the family’s next destination ahead of them, as did a few of the staff who, less familiar to Opal, were not missed in their absence, but would be had they not accompanied the Beresford-Molyneux’s belongings to be unpacked and prepared before their arrival. 

Everyone was most fond of Deauville. Her father became more jovial in the anticipation of it, her Mother excitedly busied herself organizing beautiful, airy coastal dresses for her shore promenading, and this year Ambrose’s holiday was sure to be alive with possibility and opportunity; the ladies attending the horse races would be eyeing a new sort of steed, or so Opal had heard the kitchen maids say to one another amid fits of giggles. The only drawback of Deauville was the absence of Flora, who would follow her parents to Cannes instead. Every autumn upon their reunion, the pair filled each other’s heads with the wonders of their opposing shore holidays, vowing to one day see the other French coast. And indeed the Beresford-Molyneauxs and the LeFebvres had promised the girls that once they were a bit older, they’d visit one another during those lovely, sprawling summer days, a prospect most looked forward to. 

But for now, July was approaching, and so Opal, buttoned up in her shiniest summer boots, multi-layered lace day dress, and the palest light pink travel duster with matching hat, was thusly lifted up into a charming little coupe off to the London Victoria boat train towards the continent. As the carriage pulled away from Eaton Square in the bright early morning sun, she looked back at the house with something akin to a wistful sigh. She was, after all, a proper little Edwardian, and could bring emotion into anything. 

The boat train was nothing special; Opal preferred the French lines. However it was cozy, and in short time their parlour car was chugging along towards the English coast. Opal found a place on the floor by her mother’s chair and sat prettily. She busied herself with the curls of her doll Yvette, who had lost some of her hairstyle’s perfection in transition from Eaton house to carriage, to train car. Miss Vivienne sat nearby with Cressida’s maid, conversing amiably, and Ambrose soon rose to find his father, who had made straight for the smoking lounge car, believing a dearly loved colleague to be on the same train and likely to be found there. It was not a long ride, only long enough for a quick, light breakfasting service, which arrived on a wheeled cart quarter after nine, only 15 minutes into the trip. A silver platter piled high with orange slices, grapes, and pears was accompanied by hot rolls and sliced sausage. An English breakfast tea piped steam from its spout much like the train chimney itself, and everyone drank it black, not wishing to dilute the caffeine on such an early morning exit from the city. Opal secretly preferred black tea. She was too polite to say so as Miss Vivienne took such great care to prepare perfectly cambric cups for her. But today she enjoyed her true preference, secretly greatly pleased. The hour had not struck 11 when the train car slowed to a halt and several South Eastern & Chatham porters appeared out the windows, smilingly welcomingly. Sun still streamed from wherever it might manage to peek into the car, and Opal wondered fleetingly if they’d have time to walk along the promenade pier before making their way to their steamship. She liked quaint little Dover and its very English people. The simple sailors and the beachcombers in their plain dresses and tweed suits were all very intriguing, and it was just such a morning as to promise plenty of both. 

Alas, the Empress was set to depart at quarter past the hour, so Opal was forced to make do with sightseeing from the Admiralty. Stepping out onto the pier with assistance from Mr. Truex, Opal immediately noted the chill in the breeze. Dover was typically not as warm as London this time of year, andtoday was no exception. She stepped up to match pace with Miss Vivienne, snuggling up to the folds of her warm travel duster. The governess smiled and put an arm warmly around Opal’s shoulders. 

“My, it’s lovely!” Cressida marveled at the crisp, clear morning; it was her favourite sort of weather. The sea would bear no fog, and their passage mightn’t be so rough as it often chose to be on the Pas de Calais. Bertram, with even more delight, strode forward to where the Empress was docked. He stood at water’s edge, surveying the sailors work as they loaded the steamer full of passengers’ belongings. 

“You pass for a very satisfactory Shipyard Foreman, darling,” Cressida quipped at him when the womenfolk caught up to his side. This made Bertram laugh. “Perhaps they’ll let me supervise while the proper one takes luncheon!” He fiddle good naturedly with his walking cane as he gazed up and down the hull of their little ship. Bertram was a naval enthusiast to say the least; he’d once convinced the captain of a certain North Sea voyage home from Germany to let him behind the helm, and in a severe weather condition, too. Opal had been shy of four at the time, but she’d heard the story again and again among the family and even Papa’s friends and peers. It was concluded among society that Ambassador Beresford-Molyneux had saved the ship from foundering completely, though Bertram preferred to credit “the captain’s quick wits at dead reckoning our position and re-routing with the utmost superb navigational skills.” 

Now, the humble Bertram continued to admire the little Empress, though he did suggest aloud to no one in particular that whatever anti-fouling agent they’d chosen for her was proving slightly insufficient. But this was a cosmetic issue, and so at the appointed time, the happy family cheerily progressed up the gangway into the first class saloon of the ship. 

It departed on time, and from the promenade deck Opal took great delight in waving back at the group of local children who’d gathered at the edge of the Admiralty pier to wave them off with their little hankies. She felt it would be a tad outlandish to produce and wave her own; it seemed so much finer and whiter than theirs, freshly starched and embroidered with her dainty initials. Theirs rather had the appearance of rags in comparison. But they seemed content with their state regardless, a few of them jumping up and down when they saw someone waving back with a tiny gloved hand. Opal remained skeptical when Miss Vivienne declared that this was probably their only interaction with sailing vessels. It seemed impossible to Opal that any childhood could preclude ever having been at sea. 

Once the shoreline began to appear only as a small brown line on the horizon, Opal followed Miss Vivienne inside. The many wide doors of the first class saloon were open to the fresh sea air, and Opal found her Pappa sitting in a wicker chair beside one, cigarette holder dangly neatly between two fingers. He smiled softly on her approach, beckoning her until she settled again at his feet. The carpet was plush underneath her and quite comfortable. Ambrose and their mother appeared in the doorway, having also tired of the promenade views. They soon had chairs pulled up to Bertram, and sat in a little circle together, discussing the upcoming holidays. 

Opal asked Miss Vivienne to procure from her traveling satchel Yvette, and she settled her in her lap where she could easily watch the sea passing by outside. Yvette wore Flora’s gifted dress for the occasion. Soon, waiters brought refreshments. A table nearby was laden for them with a light buffet fair. Ambrose rose, as was custom, and collected a few of the best bits which he knew everyone loved. For his mother and father, finger sandwiches and salmon cold cut with cucumber mayonnaise. For Opal, a delicate pastry filed with custard, and for himself, a generous mince pastie – he could still eat luncheon without spoiling it now.

Soon, France came into view. The voyage had taken scarcely ninety minutes, and the family remained relaxed and refreshed, despite already being on the third leg of their journey. They quite looked forward to disembarking. Another train journey, this one the longest of the day, stood between the Beresford-Molyneauxs and an evening of rest in Paris. Opal always felt very important on travel days; so very many people had to do so very many things to keep the trains and ships moving speedily along for their safe passage. Nothing pleased the tiny aristocrat more than to watch porters and bellboys rush about, the grand clocks hanging in the various stations ticking away with great significance. It took hardly any time at all to transfer to the Paris boat train. Ambrose settled into a cozy parlour chair in their next cabin and cracked open Zuleika Dobson, and for a time read a little bit aloud to his parents. It mostly flew over Opal’s head, but she did notice Miss Vivienne’s rapt attention to the tale. Out the train car views of early afternoon Hauts-de-France countryside flashed by. It looked not unlike the rolling hills of England, or on the way out to the Scottish Highlands, making the continent feel like home to Opal. 

With the train set to arrive before 5 o’clock in the afternoon, Bertram composed a telegram to the Embassy Residence, letting the staff know everything was on time, and to prepare an automobile for their evening disposal. He hoped to catch one of the Wagner operas, and a nice dinner. This telegram was sent on at Amiens, and a diplomatic courier presently appeared in the corridor outside their cabin. For a moment Bertram looked puzzled, but gestured the courier in politely. “Pardon the intrusion, Monsieur, but this is urgent.” 

The man handed him a telegram with a bow, then withdrew. “Oh darling, what is it?” Came Cressida’s concerned trill as she watched her husband unfold the paper. He read the message slowly with serious expression and then cried, “Well, it’s kicked off in Morocco!” Bertram stood up immediately, straight as a rake. “I’ll have to see the French delegation tonight, and phone Eddie and the Wizard!” 

“But what’s ‘gone off’, dear?” The fear in her mother’s voice, and her father’s gesticulations, caused Opal to look up now. Even Ambrose looked worried, and had all but forgotten the book resting upon his knee. Opal also knew invoking the names of Eddie and the Wizard meant serious business; this was the Viscount Edward Grey, and the Prime Minister, David Lloyd, who Pappa affectionately nicknamed even in serious moments, forgetting himself. 

“It would seem Germany has made good on their threats, and sent off a gunboat to Agadir.” Bertram finally explained. He still stood in the middle of the train car, now a palm to his furrowed brow in disbelief.

“But they can’t do that!” Ambrose exclaimed, now thoroughly invested. He was old enough to grasp things he heard in social evening smoking lounges, and understood things had been tense now for a while between Germany, Britain and France. But even to him this move by Germany seemed outlandish. 

“They surely should not have, but certainly did!” Bertram said. 

“I suppose this will delay your holidaying at Deauville…” Cressida quickly lamented. This realisation had not yet dawned on her husband, who suddenly appeared more crestfallen than before. “It shall, it shall.” He nodded sadly, then made for the door of the train car. “A smoke in the lounge car will put my brain in order,” He said, turning back to his family. “And then we shall map a course of action.” He smiled sadly. “Forgive me.” 

“My one and only! There is nothing to forgive you for! Just those vile Germans!” Cressida cried defensively. 

“Is there going to be a war?” Opal asked Ambrose quietly as their father retreated. 

“God forbid.” He replied. He didn’t know.

[shawmilaarchive]

Shawn and Camila’s first date at his hotel in Los Angeles.

[saskyanotes]

morning is the beautiest. i woke up little bit early today to pray and cook for breakfast. it’s such a big blessing saw this nature came up when i was drying my clothes in the first floor of balcony. but i took this pics from the second floor with my friend ila in around 6.40 am.

[mohakmalhotra]

Mumbai on Alert: Very Heavy Rain predicted on July 3 to 4

Very Heavy Rain predicted on July 3 to 4 For Mumbai It is predicted by Indian Meteorological Department(IMD) that Mumbai will see very heavy rain in some parts. IMD Mumbai has issued warning for 15 districts including Pune, Raigad, Solapur, Kolhapur, Ratnagiri, Sindhudurg, Satara, Sangli, Parbhani, Beed, Hingoli, Nanded, Latura and Osmanabad. For the Next […]

Heavy Rainfall expected in Mumbai on 3-4 July. IMD issued alert.

[maybenottheband]

Next Friday on 3rd July at 20.00pm CET we livestream our 1 hour set in a competition with some other great bands organized by RockNRamps at @kroepoekfabriek in Vlaardingen. “Maybe Not is coming out of isolation and bringing their punchy, energetic punk rock with them! Enjoy the live stream from the comfort of home or, if you're in the area, seems like we're allowed a bit of an audience by this time - maybe you haven't been to a show for a while and have some energy to burn?!? Maybe Not.” Check out the event on facebook for more info! #livestream #3july #maybenottheband #punkrock #vlaardingen #kroepoekfabriek #music #punkrocklivestream #bandlife (at De Kroepoekfabriek) https://www.instagram.com/p/CB7w7ZrDKQx/?igshid=1bse4pmzkdnxq

[sensitiveteeth]

woke up really early to get the train to Ipswich with dad (: got some pret at the station and then got on to eat it all. journey wasn't too long and we went straight to court. I was v sleepy and hungry but at 1.05 we stopped for lunch and we grabbed some vege curry. another 3 hours in court before we went to the hotel to sort ourselves. We changed and then drove to pinmill in a car Hugh let dad borrow :) I had battered halloumi, cheesy chips and garden peas for dinner and dad had some sea foody stuff and it was all so good. also had massive pieces of garlic bread but I was so full I couldn't finish mine :/ we walked off the food and saw all the cute converted boat houses on the side of the river. there were also a bunch of decaying boats further down and it was all so pretty coz the sun was setting. headed back to the hotel and now I'm all showered and ready for bed :)