Liz Stevens

Seems there is a problem with Firefox and blusky

looking across Loch Tay with a small boat in foreground

Sunday swim with Helen, 7C 😀

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Mr Peterson frowned. "Golly, I haven't heard that name in years!" he replied. "Mother used to claim that he and I were third cousins once removed, but that's before she died, of course. I never knew whether to believe her or not. It's not as if we moved in the same circles."

Wednesday November 15, 1854.

The gullible wide-eyed young chap who let me in beckoned me to sit. His sparsely furnished apartment contained a good many books.

"You are related to Sir John Geeson, sir?" I asked. "I must verify this before we can proceed further."
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I will tell her 😁

Early morning birthday swim for Helen, air temp -1.5C and water 5C #nippynoodles

Tuesday November 14, 1854.

"You're back. I thought you would be." Mr Death smiled ghoulishly.

"I need to see Sir John's will, sir."

"I expected you might so I looked it up. He never made one, in which case everything goes to his next of kin."

"Who is...?"

"Pass me down the Debretts."

Monday November 13, 1854.

"What?" George exclaimed. "You reckon Sir John killed his own wife?"

"And tried to kill me," I added.

Mr Tibbles stretched and let out a yawn.

"George, should I tell Annie about my criminal past?"

"What!" he cried even more vehemently. "No! I forbid it!"

a cartoon of a boy and a dog with the word netflix on the bottom right ALT: a cartoon of a boy and a dog with the word netflix on the bottom right

25 years of working for SEPA - need a medal!

Sunday November 12, 1854.

As I watched Annie's face during the service, I imagined her reaction were I to divulge to her the truth about my past.

So many of my correspondents have urged me to come clean, yet I find myself unwilling to do so.

I wondered what George would advise?

Playing the mighty Marcussen organ in Manchester’s @bridgewaterhall.bsky.social today for the @openuniversity.bsky.social degree ceremonies.
Lovely way to spend a rainy Tuesday!

Saturday November 11 1854.

As I ploughed my way through my breakfast kipper, I considered what I had learned from Mr Death.

Sir John had married Lady Geeson for her money, unaware that the bulk of it was entailed in an unbreakable trust. Only on her death would he inherit.

Hmmm...

I was thinking that too 😃

Grandiloquent Word of the Day logo - Sepia-toned graphic with a baroque Victorian typeface and a political cartoon depicting a man wearing a top hat that says "Nobel Peace Commission" holding up the Nobel Peace Prize. He says "I can find no one to award this prize." The person to whom he has said this is an anthropomorphized globe, wearing an eye patch that says "War" and a top hat that says "The World." The World says "I can readily believe it."

Chevisance [SHEV-ih-sens]
(n.)
1. Achievement; deed; performance.
2. A bargain; profit; gain.

Used in a sentence:
“They answer’d, with a civility colder than reason, that his chevisance was well-known to them; that it consisted chiefly in noise, glitter, ruin, and a most offensive perfume.”

Good morning #nofilter

Friday November 10, 1854.

"Upon my word! If it isn't Mr Guy!"

Mr Death, the clerk at the will office of Doctors' Commons, beckoned me into his cubbyhole.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, pray tell?"

"Sir, I have come to consult a will," I replied, "that of the late Lady Geeson."

Thursday November 9, 1854.

I smelled the cigar smoke as I approached the stairs to Mr Bruff's office, redolent with the smell of vanilla. Cautiously I followed the aroma.

I found my employer alone amid a thick fug of fumes.

"Was Sir John Geeson just here?" I asked.

I had one of those!

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Again it had been penned at Alex and Charley's behest.

"We found the croft where they was hiding," I read out loud, "but here's the thing: they had it all planned out. They was here almost as soon as they escaped and it don't seem like they budged from it since."

Tuesday November 7, 1854.

We heard shouts from the outer office, the loudest of which by far was a deep bass voice booming, "Get out of me bleedin' way!"

Mr Tibbles jumped up in alarm as the door burst open and in strode Bertha.

"I got me another blasted lettah," she wailed.
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Wednesday November 8, 1854.

"I'm confused," said George. "If it wasn't the escaped prisoners who attacked you, then who was it?"

"An intriguing question, my good friend. Whoever it was smelled of vanilla."

"Vanilla? Like in cakes?"

"Or cigars, George..."

Flat calm swim but leaf and twig soup 🍂8C and found a full can of beer 🍺

Monday November 6, 1854.

"George, I've been thinking," I said. "Perhaps your diary doesn't work in quite the same way mine does."

Mr Tibbles threw me a filthy look that I feared would give the game away.

"If that's the case," I continued, "you could copy your important entries into my diary."

Sunday November 5, 1854.

"I'm still furious he wouldn't take me to see you," said Annie as we chatted after the service.

I knew the dilemma George had faced from reading his diary entries, and was indebted for the stand he had taken. What if Annie found out about my criminal past?

Water level is up! 7C

Saturday November 4, 1854.

Home at last. A detail I'd forgotten about my recent attack suddenly came to me as I devoured my breakfast kipper.

It was a smell. Vanilla, such as Mrs Grogan might employ in her best cakes, but somehow more earthy.

I smelled it before I was struck down.

Friday November 3, 1854.

I made the mistake of asking George how his diary keeping was going.

"I wrote about how Mary burned the sausages yesterday," he told me. "I thought people might sympathize, but they didn't."

Dare I tell him about the Skyblue service I employ? Hmmm...

Grandiloquent Word of the Day logo - Sepia-toned graphic with a baroque Victorian typeface and an illustration of a hungry man, and a hungry tiger wearing a top hat and jacket looking through the window of a bakery at various goodies.

Appetency [AP-ih-ten-see]
(n.)
- A longing desire or hunger; a natural tendency or affinity.

Used in a sentence:
“There are many of us. Some have an appetency for dreams, some for memories, some hunger for emotions—such as fear. Those are the ones I avoid.”

I will look out for the boys👍