#whittington

[thewhittingtonlegacy]

A New Legacy Begins...

Marian Whittington is new to Sunset Valley, leaving the past behind her as she tries to make a life for herself here in this quaint town by the water. How will it pan out for her? She’s young and maybe a little dumb... let’s hope she makes the most of her opportunities...

Marian finds a cute, outdoorsy home for herself and her cat, Smokey, with plenty of space for Smokey to roam. It’s gorgeous, with an idyllic lake complete with fish, not that Marian is much for fishing.

Her dream is to work as a DNA Profiler in Law Enforcement, and thus she heads down to check if there are any available jobs. Luck strikes! 

Knowing that if she wants to get ahead, she’ll need plenty of logic and painting skill, she takes a class in both, then stops off at the store to get some groceries. Back at home, she starts a dating profile and messages a few sims but no one seems to really get her attention.

[londiniumlundene]

Whittington Stone

“Turn again, Whittington! Thrice Lord Mayor of London!”

Such is the prophecy that Bow Bells are said to rung out to Dick Whittington, who having not found the streets of London to be paved with gold, had decided to return home to Gloucestershire. It was whilst climbing Highgate Hill, accompanied by his cat, that this most iconic part of his legend is said to have occurred. On returning to the capital, Dick would embark on a series of adventures, make his fortune, marry his master's daughter, and indeed become Lord Mayor of London three times.

At least, that is how the popular story goes. The real Richard Whittington (c. 1354–1423) was the youngest son of a wealthy family, who was sent to London to learn the trade of mercer. He was not just successful in selling textiles to the royal and noble families of England and beyond, but also entered politics, first becoming and councilman, and shortly afterwards Sheriff of the City of London. His first term as mayor came when the incumbent mayor died, and Whittington was chosen by King Richard II to take over. A few months later he was elected as mayor, and he would go on to serve another two terms (his first two appointments were originally counted as one, hence the “thrice Lord Mayor of London in the story).

Whittington died with no heir, instead leaving his fortune to a number of charitable causes. His generosity made him well-known in death, inspiring the famous story, such that man and myth and now forever intertwined. The supposed spot on Highgate Hill where he heard Bow Bells calling out to him was marked with a stone tablet in 1821, joined by a sculpture of his cat in 1964.

[iamted7]

That Porsche K3 has an incredible story. Do a little research on the net and find out. Check out the car at the #petersenmuseum ➡️ swipe through the photos. 📷 #porsche #porsche935k3 #porschekremer #DEA #whittington #brucemeyer #automotivephotography #studiophotography #ted7 (at Petersen Automotive Museum) https://www.instagram.com/p/BtuGSthHXQ3/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1tjaagw0kyrpb

[brownhillsbob]

#365daysofbiking The magic of the bells:

May 5th - Up at Whittington Hurst, a lovely secluded bluebell wood by the roadside I’ve never noticed before.

I left the house seeking peace and healing. And in this wood in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by delicate, English bluebells, I found it.

Here’s to recovery, and a better day.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

[allthingseurope]

Whittington, UK (BY Jeff Dugmore)

[brownhillsbob]

#365daysofbiking It may not be obvious:

May 19th - It was a weary run out - Through Shenstone, Weeford, Hints, Tamworth, then up the canal to Hopwas, Whittington and home via Wall and Lichfield. Not a long run, and on a grey, warm afternoon that always seemed to be just on the verge of rain.

It was nice, but I wasn’t feeling the love. My stomach was grumbling and I was tired.

But as usual, a combination of the things I found, the quirkiness of the the country I live in and the beauty of thriving nature around me perked me up.

I’m still chucking about the warning  of troops training. That’s so Monty Python and utterly British. And sadly, there was no sign of the cat. I like to think it was called ‘Fluffy’ or some such.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

[brownhillsbob]

#365daysifbiking Feeling so much better:

February 17th - I carried on the ride - out through Hammerwich where I met the most wonderful pigs in a laneside paddock. They trotted over to investigate me and were real characters. 

From Hammerwich through Moat Bank, Hilton and Chesterfield to Shenstone, with both towers visible until the leaves come. From there up through Weeford to Whittington Common, over the ranges and to a dusk thrash around Hopwas Hays Wood.

It was a great ride in generally good weather that I enjoyed thoroughly. Looking forward to getting more of this in now spring is coming.

This journal is moving home. Please find out more by clicking here.

[brownhillsbob]

January 7th - In order to reclaim something from the ride, I headed via Whittington to Lichfield, for if there’s one place that makes for good night photos, it’s Lichvegas.

Once again, the Canon gave a good account, and I’m loving this camera as a low light device: These images are handheld despite some seriously odd quirks in the hardware ergonomics - why on earth would you have an exposure compensation control on the same central axis as the mode dial, committed in hardware? Often you unintentionally skew exposure compensation changing mode by accident - an awful bit of design.

The camera has a very yellow response to even high pressure sodium lights, which is interesting, but it works remarkably well under white LED street lighting and T5 fluorescents. 

Whittington Church is hard to get a good angle on, and that subway in Festival Gardens, Lichfield, fascinates me. I wonder how old it is? It’s construction would suggest 1920s or 30s.