Christiane Marshall

@Generations7080 Ces chaises étaient indestructibles.

Je pense que l'on s'est tous assis au moins une fois dans notre vie.

@HWarlow Somehow it all fits really well. Love the bright colours too, and the chair in the second picture.

Richard Nadler German artist ( Munich) Textiles are a passion of mine and the first here I love as it’s so full of bold colours and tantalising textures. Contemporary digital innovative art The forefront of this new genre

@HWarlow Fascinating. Love it 😊

Interesting artist Yehan Wang Well known Chinese/Canadian artist recognised for his contribution to contemporary abstract artwork ‘His lines behave like bursts of raw energy yet are reigned in by rigorous order’ ‘Echoes of the Path’ Not sure of second.

@CarlBovisNature Perfect photo, very stylish.

Female House Sparrow at Combwich in Somerset last weekend. 😍😊🐦

@ThereseBaillard Très beau bâtiment un peu ruiné pour moi par la symétrie féroce de la taille des buissons sur le devant.

Le #manoir de Courson se dresse à Notre-Dame-de-Courson dans le #Calvados en #Normandie. Construit au XVe siècle et remanié au XVIème il se présente sous la forme d'un logis en équerre bâti entièrement en pans de bois.

@CindySinor Excellent drawing, I recognised him instantly ! Best quality, Thoughtfulness.

My drawing of Keanu Reeves. What’s his best quality?

@Generations7080 Gérard, Philippe était son surnom.

Bonne fête à tous les Philippe ! 🎉 Y a-t-il un Philippe célèbre qui vous vient immédiatement à l’esprit ?

@ampomata You always paint birds beautifully Angeles, I love seeing them represented in your art.

This is my mixed-media painting, "Grace In A Heartbeat".

@archeohistories She knows what she did, the people she rescued know what she did, even the enemy knows it. She probably wouldn’t care about recognition from the masses, but I’m sure she would appreciate that you are telling her story to those of us who care.

History has a pattern: when a woman refuses to disappear, the story is often rewritten until she does... In 1943, as Nazi forces closed in on the Warsaw Ghetto, resistance wasn’t a theory—it was a death sentence. And yet, Zivia Lubetkin chose it anyway. Not quietly. Not in support roles. She stepped into leadership when others hesitated. While some male commanders froze under the weight of what they were facing, Zivia moved. She organized. She fought. She refused to wait for permission.She killed more Nazis than any male resistance fighter in her movement. For 27 days, she helped lead one of the most desperate uprisings of World War II—the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. Outnumbered, outgunned, and facing certain death, the fighters held their ground against the Nazi war machine. Zivia wasn’t in the background. She was in the center of it—making decisions, directing movement, and picking up a weapon when it mattered most. And when the ghetto burned, when survival meant slipping through the filth and darkness of the city’s sewer system, Zivia led 750 people through tunnels filled with human waste, suffocation, and terror—guiding them out while death hunted them above. That kind of leadership doesn’t come from rank. It comes from resolve. But here’s where the story turns. After the war, recognition didn’t follow courage. It followed narrative. A dead male commander was elevated, memorialized, turned into a symbol. Statues were built. Names were etched in stone. Zivia—the woman who fought, who led, who survived—was pushed to the margins of her own story. She lived. And because she lived, she was easier to overlook. This isn’t just about one woman. It’s about how history decides who gets remembered—and who gets quietly set aside. © Women In World History #archaeohistories

@WeatherMonitors What a tragedy. Very sad.

Ashfall from Mayon Volcano caused injuries and severe damage in Barangay Anoling, Camalig, Albay, Philippines. Farms are blanketed in thick ash, destroying crops, weakening vegetation, and reports of pet deaths are emerging. Concerns are growing over food supply and livelihoods. Local authorities are now assessing the full extent of the damage and its impact on affected communities. 📹: Mayor Caloy G. Baldo via Facebook ⚠️

@PerseusLeGrand Que penseriez vous d’eux si ces vitraux n’étaient pas pour Notre - Dame ?

Que pensez-vous des futurs vitraux de Notre-Dame de Paris ?

@CindySinor Egg on toast every morning. Cooked in microwave, 36 seconds or less, paprika on top.

My colored pencil drawing. 🍳How do you like your eggs? Sunny side up, over easy, scrambled, or something else?

@zbetty_spring Un deux trois quatre ?

Una dey talk sha

@ThierryTout Toujours une question d’argent !

VOICI 3 QUESTIONS À SE POSER EN COMPARANT CES DEUX PHOTOS : 1 - Pourquoi les sociétés passées ont-elles construit tant de beauté "inutile" ? 2 - Pourquoi avons-nous arrêté ? 3 - N'est-ce pas la preuve que notre société occidentale a perdu sa richesse culturelle ? 🤔

@zbetty_spring No offense but maybe you should see an optician.

I see 8 rabbits. How many can you see

@HWarlow Rather strange and poetic. In the first picture, she seems to mimic the rose bush.

Kevin Roberts ( new artist to me’ ‘Watching the Roses ‘Waiting for the Rain’ South African (Capetown )artist

@oaksandlions Prickly though. I wonder how many hands stayed free from scratches.

For centuries, people across England marked the arrival of May by “bringing in the May”. Before sunrise on May 1st, villagers would head into the countryside to gather flowers, greenery and blossoming branches. Hawthorn, known as “May blossom”, became the great symbol of the season. Homes, churches and village streets were decorated with it to welcome the return of warmth, fertility and new life after winter. The tradition is ancient. Its roots stretch back well before the medieval period, later blending with Christian May Day customs across England. There were bonfires, dancing, songs, Morris dancers, garlands, and the raising of the maypole on village greens. By the Victorian era, many of these customs had begun fading in industrial towns, though some villages kept them alive. A few still do today. A small reminder that England once celebrated the changing seasons with remarkable enthusiasm. Do May Day traditions still survive where you live? Follow @oaksandlions for more posts about English history. #EnglishHistory #EnglishHertiage #FolkTradition #MayDay

@MbarkCherguia A woman.

if aliens landed on the earth tomorrow, and you had to pick one person to represent humanity, it would be: 1. Elon Musk 2. Bill Gates 3. Jeff Bezos 4. Mark Zuckerberg

@GraceGym_ A turquoise sky.

Apparently if you’re right-brained you see a rabbit, if you’re left-brained you see a turtle... What do you see?

@jeanbap59962914 @KateriSeraphina Merci pour cette explication détaillée. On s’en réfère presque toujours à l’époque la plus récente, sans penser que la réponse à beaucoup de questions se tient parfois très loin dans le passé.

L’expression complète « s’en foutre comme de l’an quarante » (ou « s’en moquer comme de l’an quarante », « s’en ficher comme de l’an quarante »). Elle signifie ne pas se soucier du tout de quelque chose, s’en désintéresser complètement. Son origine est incertaine, même si elle est bien attestée à la fin du XVIIIe siècle (sous la forme vulgaire « s’en foutre comme de l’an 40 » dès 1790). Une attestation encore plus ancienne existe dès 1741 (« je ne me soucie pas plus de cela que de l’année quarante »), relevée par un curé dans la Drôme. Les linguistes et dictionnaires (TLFi, FEW, Claude Duneton, etc.) considèrent comme la piste la plus plausible une déformation populaire phonétique de « l’Alcoran » (ancien nom français du Coran au XVIIIe siècle). L’idée serait : « s’en moquer comme de l’Alcoran » → le livre saint des musulmans, vu comme totalement étranger et sans importance pour un chrétien de l’époque. La transformation « Alcoran » → « an quarante » s’est faite naturellement dans la langue orale populaire. Autres hypothèses souvent citées (mais moins retenues par les spécialistes) :Allusion à l’an 1040, année où certains craignaient la fin du monde (1000 + 40 ans, durée symbolique de la vie du Christ). Raillerie royaliste contre le calendrier républicain : l’« an 40 de la République » n’arriverait jamais (mais cette théorie est chronologiquement fragile, car l’expression existe avant le calendrier républicain). Référence à une année particulièrement calamiteuse (comme 1740, avec famine et grand froid en Europe). Symbolique biblique du chiffre 40 (période d’épreuve : 40 jours du Déluge, 40 ans dans le désert, etc.). Aucune de ces explications n’est formellement prouvée à 100 %, mais la déformation « Alcoran » reste la plus sérieuse et la plus souvent retenue par les étymologistes. En résumé : c’est une expression populaire du XVIIIe siècle, née dans le langage parlé, et qui a survécu jusqu’à aujourd’hui sans qu’on sache exactement qui l’a lancée la première fois. Une belle petite perle de l’argot français. Merci Grok😘

Ma question la plus stupide.