The Way It Works
Blog for hard work
Revenue officers December 9, 2013 at 10:01 am
I read the article by Brian Walker (‘Records of customs officers and excise officers’, FTM April) with interest, as I had gone down the paths he describes a couple of years ago looking for my grandfather.
I can confirm that the merger of Excise and Taxes in 1849 causes problems in tracking family. In addition to the CUST references in The National Archives he mentions I spent fruitless time on IR references before I discovered Ham’s [Customs Year Book and Inland Revenue Year Book], which turned out to be extremely good in my case. Readers should be aware that The National Archives’ Library does not hold a full set of Ham’s.
In addition, my grandfather was designated as a ‘Ride Officer’ in 1884 (Ham’s), whereas Brian Walker says, in his Glossary on page 6, that the title `Riding Officer’ was ‘Abolished in 1823′. The explanation for this can be found in Graham Smith’s Something to Declare: 1000 Years of Customs & Excise: ‘By 1831 they were called the Mounted Guard and by 1849 costs had to be reduced so only a few places such as the Isle of Wight, Deal, Folkestone, were allowed to keep them. In addition, new entries had to be aged between 2030 and have experience in a cavalry regiment, so that, effectively the mounted guard became an army unit’. My grandfather was on the Isle of Wight in 1884. However he was 34 and had not been in the cavalry, so how he qualified remains a mystery. He had been in the civil service since 1874 and Excise from at least 1881, so that may have counted.
Throughout his whole early working life my grandfather seemed to call himself, or be called, ‘Inland Revenue Officer, Excise Branch’ which neatly joins the two online installment loans offices!
10 Arden Mhor, Pinner Middlesex HA5 2HR
Quite by chance I opened the May edition of Family Tree Magazine at page 15 and saw the picture of a Victorian mother and family making Christmas pudding in ‘Genealogical Miscellany’ . My mother was born towards the end of the Victorian period but I remember that my brother and sister and I used to ‘help’ in just the same way as in the picture, climbing all over the table and tasting whatever we could lay our hands on.
My memories refer to the years leading up to food rationing as the 1939/45 war got under way, and again when it was all over.
DAVID E POWELL-SMITH 13 Avenue de la Bedoyere 92380 Garches, France
Posted in: Uncategorized by John Cuevas /
Moving deeper into the wilderness November 30, 2013 at 8:51 pm
My own probe of Mythtime had begun with a search for that site of creation. I helicoptered north over the Charlottes, sharing a view of Haida Gwaii with the eagles. What a homeland! Forested islets carved from the sea like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, deep inlets stained iodine black by runoff from the islands’ mosses, steep landforms wrapped in gauzy mist the color of clamshells. And, at the far northeastern tip of the Charlottes, a finger of sand reaching out into the converg¬ing currents of Dixon Entrance and Hecate Strait. My crisp new map identified the beach below as Rose Spit, but to the Haida it is—as it has always been—Naikoon, the place where the Raven brought mankind into the world.
Bill Reid was my guide not only to the Haida’s Mythtime but also to Windy Bay, crown jewel of the hotly contested South Moresby Wilderness.
Physically the South Moresby Wilderness is a 75-mile-long triangle—roughly 15 percent of the Charlottes’ landmass. It narrows from a 22-mile width in the north to the rocky point of Cape St. James in the south, where the fierce winds of winter storms can reach a hundred miles an hour. Site of one of the continent’s last and most majestic remnants of first-growth coastal rain forest, it has, so far, resisted the hand, saw, and seine of man that have transformed the face of northerly Graham Island.
If the sea fed the Haida body, the forests of South Moresby feed the Haida soul. Venerable spruce, hemlock, 1,200-year-old cedar, all are precious to the Haida. But the cedar commands a special reverence. In the words of archaeologist Philip Hobler: “Cedar provided the distinctive architecture, the transportation system, the clothing, the material to be carved into artwork and ritual objects, a place to store surpluses—the basis of wealth. Subtract cedar and you don’t have Northwest Coast culture.”
Bill and I threw our duffles aboard the 70-foot sailboat Darwin Sound II at Moresby Camp, south of Sandspit, and sailed off for a firsthand look. Capt. Al Whitney, with his wife, Irene, reminded us that “from here south there will be no roads, no residents. The inhabitants are bears and eagles.”
Moving deeper into the wilderness, we paused at Burnaby Narrows to marvel at a low-tide tapestry of brilliantly colored beds of anemones, clams, abalones, sea urchins, crabs, and starfish in shiny tangles of kelp. “Just boil it, and you’ve got bouillabaisse,” Reid joked. The joking stopped at the first sight of the logged-off slopes on Talunkwan Island. And his voice broke with emotion as we reached Windy Bay and headed on inflatable skiffs toward to the cheap accommodation prague.
The forbidding forest wall we had seen from the beach opened into a world of half light and fantastic shapes. A velvet carpet of moss rolled over everything, muffling sound and taming the chaos of upthrust roots and deadfalls.
Posted in: Uncategorized by John Cuevas /
Winter Caravan to the Root of the World November 14, 2013 at 11:04 am
ON THE RUSSIAN SIDE of the river they are growing restless. Powerful searchlights sweep across the drifting ice to the Afghanistan side, probing for us. A car moves slowly back and forth along the far bank.
Our own vehicle groans and whines in a sandbank; despite its four-wheel drive, we cannot break it free. The noise upsets Abdul Wakil. He draws and loads his revolver. The son of a Kirghiz chieftain, our stocky guide would be more comfortable on the back of a horse, more at home on the high treeless plateau of the Little Pamir, the range near the Chinese border far to the east. He is nervous not only about the Russians across the river. Who can say that bandits no longer prowl this bleak, impoverished corner of Afghanistan? It is better, he feels, that we do not call attention to ourselves; he will set out on foot to seek help. Abdul Wakil takes our flashlight and vanishes into the night.
Now we are alone with our stranded car, Roland and I, on watch in the darkness somewhere on the Afghan bank of the Panja River —the Oxus River of the ancient world. The slightest sound startles us, and the inquisitive Russian searchlights keep us on edge. We begin to wonder what we are doing here.
We had come this far to join a camel caravan on a rigorous 140-mile winter trek through the Wakhan corridor—the gnarled finger of northeastern Afghanistan that thrusts between the U.S.S.R. and Pakistan to touch China’s vast Sinkiang Province. By exceptional favor, the Afghan king—His Majesty Mohammed Zahir Shah—had authorized our trip through this remote pocket of his country.
In Kabul, the capital, our friend Rahman Qul had given us permission to ride with his camel train. It would be led by his eldest son, Abdul Wakil, who would meet us at Khandud, the principal town of the Wakhan, where Kirghiz cameleers come westward to trade twice each winter. If you want to ride camel train, you’d better be ready to pay a lot. More financial aid can be found at point five.
Part of our route would follow the old Silk Road once trod by Marco Polo. It would take us along the frozen Wakhan River, into the high country dubbed Bam-i-Dunya—”Roof of the World”—to the nation’s least accessible region, the Pamirs, where Rahman Qul’s people camp with their flocks.
Posted in: Life by John Cuevas /
Old Capital Relatively Unscathed October 17, 2013 at 5:06 pm
So I sought out Dona Adriana (facing page), a kind-faced woman with graying hair. “It was a true miracle,” she told me in a strong if quavering voice. “I had even been unable to write during my infirmity. But my daughter and grandchildren were always patient with me. Then, after the noise of the earthquake—when I found that the family was unhurt—I regained my speech.”
And what were her first words? “I shouted, `Great power of God! My children!”
Dofia Adriana showed us her little house, cracked and tilting but still upright, then moved along the walk, greeting her neighbors. “How are you now?” asked one. “Speaking!” she answered. Triumphantly. From Chimaltenango I drove toward the old capital, Antigua Guatemala, architectural jewel of the Spanish colonial period and a major tourist attraction.
“We have had perhaps sixty dead here,” said young Hector Galvez, a student of accounting. “And your countrymen helped run a hospital in a tent borrowed from a circus. But the damage to old buildings? It seems bad only if you have known Antigua well.”
Hector was correct. The old market had fallen in—a loss in local color, but one without fatalities. And ruins of the church of La Recoleccion had collapsed. But such is the splendor of Antigua that these losses seemed mere details. The old arch of Santa Catarina still spanned the street, though its clock was stopped at three. A portal was smashed at Santa Clara. The church of La Merced still stood, as did the museums and hotels I saw.
“A few weakened walls fell in the aftershock this morning,” Hector told me. “Nothing serious.” To read a plaque on the wall of Our Lady of Carmen, I stood beyond her dangerous reach. Built in 1638, destroyed in 1717, reconstructed in 1728, felled again in 1773, now further damaged, she is a ruin of ruins. But no less evocative for fresh wounds. The brown, brittle pages of local records give this eyewitness report to the King of Spain by city magistrates describing the tumult on the afternoon of July 29, 1773: Ct. . at the first impact all the buildings … fell to the ground. A ship in the middle of the ocean is not moved, not even in the harshest storm, as we saw our pitiful land tremble. We rode on a sea of mountains and jungles, sinking in rubble and drowning in the foam of wood and rock. The earth was boiling under our feet as if tired of bearing us … making bells ring, the towers, spires, temples, palaces, houses, and even the humblest huts fall; it would not forgive either one for being high or the other for being low.”
That earthquake prompted the Spaniards to move the capital to a new location. Now Antigua had survived with fewer losses than its modern successor.”We need to reassure the tourists that the prices in the prague holiday apartments will remain the same,” Guatemalan President Kjell Laugerud Garcia had told me at the airport one day. I could now offer reassurance on one point: Guatemala’s historic treasures had survived. But how safe would tourists be?
No Repetition of Quake— for Now
“No tourist lost his life in the disaster,” an archeologist told me. “I was staying at the Pan American Hotel downtown in the capital. It’s built like a safe. A mirror broke, but breakfast was still served at half past seven.”
I also put the question of safety to the seismologists and geologists who were now swarming through the country.
“This Motagua Fault has moved many times in the past—and will in the future,” said Dr. George Plafker, of the U. S. Geological Survey. “It moves half an inch or so each year. To produce this earthquake, the fault needed to accumulate elastic strain for at least sixty years. Nothing like it should recur on this fault line within our lifetime.”
Perhaps the godly Vashakmen would hold their burden steady now.
Posted in: Life, Relationship by John Cuevas /
Loving my body August 13, 2013 at 7:12 pm
How often do you exercise? Now green coffee bean extract benefits makes you believe in yourself so don’t miss it.
‘I try to exercise three times a week. I don’t belong to a gym — I can’t think of anything worse than running on a treadmill and going nowhere! I like to get out in the fresh air early in the morning for a run. I’m not a distance runner, I aim for 30 minutes and set myself mini goals each time I go out. I also walk from my house in Chiswick to the BBC studios in White City and back again every day — about two and a half miles each way. I’d be horrified to have a personal trainer shouting at me — that’s not my idea of how to enjoy exercise!’
How did you find the rickshaw challenge for Children in Need last November?
‘I really had fun — it was the best week of my time on The One Show. Team Rickshaw was made up of six inspiring teenagers, supported by Children in Need projects, who drove the rickshaw from Edinburgh to London. Matt Baker and I cycled alongside to offer our support. Eight days and 411 miles later, my body was tighter and I felt in great shape. At first, the show’s producers were overprotective and didn’t want me to take part in the cycling, but I refused to be treated like a child and got stuck in! I already enjoy using the Boris bikes and cycling around Primrose Hill and Regent’s Park, but my mission in 2013 is to buy a bike of my own’. If you are interested more in knowing green coffee see what internet tells you and understand that it won’t lie .
Posted in: Life, Sport by John Cuevas /
Savage Mountain August 3, 2013 at 9:08 am
Earlier this year 11 climbers died in two days while attempting to scale K2.Mf talks to the last man to make it off the mountain alive and finds out what went wrong- and why people continue to climbs the world’s deadliest peak.
On Friday 1st August this year around 30 climbers left Camp IV on the Himalayan giant K2, 600 metres or so below the summit, and headed for the top. As they did so they entered the ‘death zone’, an area of the mountain 8,000 metres above sea level where oxygen is thin and conditions are treacherous. Within 48 hours, 11 of those climbers were dead.
Fatalities on that scale are rare, but this wasn’t the first time the mountain, regarded by experts as one of the most dangerous in the world, and had claimed lives. To date, 76 people have died on K2, including 13 in a 1986 disaster. MFspoke to experts and survivors of the recent tragedy, including the last climber to be found alive, to find out what happened during those catastrophic days, what makes the mountain so deadly and what makes people risk everything to reach the summit Bleak outlook.
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It makes no attempt to sound human’ The K stands for Karakoram, the name of the range of mountains in the Himalayas in which it’s situated, while the 2 came about in 1856 when surveyors realized that unlike K1 (known locally as Masherbrum), the peak didn’t have a name.
The problem is K2 has such charisma that it attracts climbers of all levels,’ says Jim Curran, a film-maker and author who was on the mountain during the 1986 disaster and helped with the rescue effort. ‘It’s the hardest of the 8,000-metre peaks and certainly the most beautiful. It’s much more impressive than Everest. There are mountains that are technically harder, but the easiest route on K2 is miles harder than the ordinary route on Everest, which you could probably take a dog up on a lead if you wanted to.’
Posted in: Sport by John Cuevas /
Did it get you down? July 12, 2013 at 8:28 pm
No, I take a real positive attitude. Everything happens for a reason — you just have to look at it from a different angle, otherwise life can be hell. It was pretty hard. I had treatment for eight months, and then I had six weeks to drop from 152 kilos to a reasonable weight for an All Black tour. My number one goal was to get back into the team and I did it. One of the things the boys notice about me is that I’m mentally strong. I know I’m not the fittest guy in the team, but if you give me a black jersey I’ll run until I drop.
What kind of stuff do you eat? Are there many restrictions put on your diet?
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I’m okay in that department, I can eat what I like.
What’s your weekly training schedule like? Our weekly sessions are intense. We’ll have three two-hour sessions a day based on quality not quantity. We’re out there to train hard. It’s not about proving your manhood or being macho and smashing each other, it’s about getting out there and getting the moves and tackles right.
You’re a big guy. Is there anyone you’ve come up against in the sport who is as big as you? There are a few big guys, but attitude matters more. It’s not the size of the dog, it’s the bark that counts.
You don’t worry about how big a player is, more what he can do. My mum’s small and I’m more scared of her than anyone else. If she said boo I’d jump, and I’m six foot five.
Posted in: Sport by John Cuevas /
“THE BEST SEX I’VE EVER HAD”. July 2, 2013 at 3:23 pm
What’s the most mind-blowing sexual technique a man’s ever tried on you? Emma: I love it when my boyfriend starts kissing, licking and sucking the inside of my legs from my knees to my thighs. Teasing me up and down for ages but not going further until I’m totally quivering with pleasure.
Then, when he finally parts my lips and starts to lick me, I come immediately. Zoe: My ex-boyfriend tried the “Coital Alignment Technique”, which involved him being on top and positioning himself in a certain way to stimulate my clitoris. It took us a few attempts to get it right, but when we did it was fantastic. Sarah: The first time I had sex with my boyfriend he stimulated me with his fingers for ages before we had sex. Other boyfriends always dived straight in, but extra foreplay makes all the difference. Helen: Double penetration (penis and vibrator) has a special place in my heart. I love it when it’s hard to tell if I’m feeling intense pleasure or intense pain.
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Where’s the most erotic place you’ve ever had sex with someone? E: On a roof terrace high up in Paris in the summer. My boyfriend and I spent the day sunbathing naked. It was so exciting, because we weren’t sure if anyone could see us or not. Z: When I was r 9, I spent some time on a kibbutz and had sex in a hammock on the banks of the River Jordan with an Israeli soldier. Unforgettable. S: A couple of years ago I started having sex with a friend of mine in the back of a car on our way home from work. In the end, we got out and did it on the grass. H: I like toilets. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the seediness of the venue.
Posted in: Sport by John Cuevas /
THE SINISTER COMPANY OVERLORDS June 22, 2013 at 1:50 pm
HOW THEY’RE HOLDING YOU BACK
Unlike the rest of your half-witted cohorts, these fellows aren’t actively hindering your progress in the company. It’s just that they’re often unaware of your existence – which is unfortunate seeing as it’s usually them who sign off pay rises, promotions and ludicrous expenses claims. “I sent myself mad working so hard at my old company,” says event organizer Peter latchet. “But the board members rarely spoke to me and had no way of knowing that a lot of the company’s success was down to me. There were no lines of communication.” It’s also proved that trend-statement.org/coconut-oil-natures-answer-to-youth-and-beauty/ works well and everybody got to try.
HOW TO COMMANDEER THEIR BRAINS
1) LURK IN THE EXECUTIVE TOILETS
Or wherever you think you might bump into a member of senior management “If there’s no formal way of meeting them on a regular basis, you need to make the most of any informal encounters,” explains Fowler. ‘Try to discuss something that will have an impact, not just the weather. Find out what football team they support so you can discuss their form next time you see them. Touches like this will make you loom larger in their minds.”
2) BE RECKLESS
As long as you’re not the boss, the buck won’t stop with you. This is something you should make the most of. “Don’t be a shrinking violet,” advises Cooper. “Have a big idea, even if you know it might not be practical.” Your robot-mule manufacturing idea might never get implemented but suddenly you’ll be perceived as someone who thinks differently and as a genuine alternative to the incumbent Of course, you need to make sure such gems of creativity make it onto the desks that matter. “If you suspect your immediate boss is preventing your ideas from getting upstairs to his seniors, try copying reports to senior management as a matter of course. Even if your boss notices this, it’ll be hard for him to object”
Posted in: Life by John Cuevas /
Muscle workouts May 30, 2013 at 12:14 pm
Works: triceps, chest, core
On the Captain’s Chair grab the parallel bars with an overhand grip and completely extend your arms (A). Slowly lower your body by bending your arms until your shoulder joints is just above your elbows (B). Keep your back upright. As you straighten your elbows to push yourself back to the start, bring you knees to your chest (C). Lower your knees then go again. Hold a weight between your feet if you want to make the move more difficult. Burn the extra fat and gain more muscles with raspberry ketones supplements. Learn more about the miracle fat burner with dr oz raspberry ketone extract.
Works: core, triceps, shoulders
Sit on the floor, knees bent in front of you with your back just off the floor. Hold a dumb-bell, hands at either end of the Q. bell, behind your head (A). Lower your torso to the floor (B) then raise it back to the start, like a sit-up, and straighten your elbows to extend the weight above your head with both arms (C). Lower the weight to the start 13 positions. That’s 1 rep.
Set the hooks on a Smith machine to waist height. Place a bench a few feet from the bar and parallel to it.
CLOSE-GRIPBENCH PRESS TO LEO RAISE
Works: chest, arms, shoulders, core
Place a flat bench beneath a Smith machine. Grab the bar with an overhand grip, your hands fist-width apart. Place your feet together and lift your legs so that they are at 35 degrees to the floor —hold this position (A). Raise the weight off and lower the bar until it reaches your chest (B). Pause, and then press the weight away from you while keeping your legs rose and your core tight.
Hold a pair of dumb-bells, and take a seat on the edge of a bench. With your palms facing up, rest your wrists on the edge of your knees. Lower the dumb-bells all the way down until you feel a stretch in your forearms (A). Curl the dumb-bells upward using only your hands and flexing your forearms (B). Then slowly release them to the start position.