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flemmings ([personal profile] flemmings) wrote2025-06-17 08:58 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

One should note when the weather is decent because it's about to become the reverse. Muggy and wet tomorrow, probably same for the rest of the week, then heat dome arrives. But today, when I finally made it out, was pleasant and breezy and the sky was blue, which it hasn't been lately, what with fires and pollution.

In winter I sit on the couch because there's nowhere to go and I tell myself I'll be more active in summer. Well, it's summer now and I sit on the couch because my back hurts, and I do nothing because my elbows hurt, and my nose is stuffed up from pollen. Thus there is no health within us.
oursin: Photograph of James Miranda Barry, c. 1850 (James Miranda Barry)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-17 03:03 pm

I think we know how short-fused surgeon Barry would have reacted to this....

Honestly, people. How is this even A Thing?

NHS staff unsettled by patients filming care and posting videos on social media.

When partner first mentioned this to me I was 'Do they even let them into operating theatre and what about scrubbing up etc?', because I assumed it wasn't actually the patient doing this, and in fact reading further it does seem to be accompanying persons.

Radiographers, who take X-rays and scans, fear the trend could compromise the privacy of other patients being treated nearby and lead to staff having their work discussed online.
The Society of Radiographers (SoR) has gone public with its unease after a spate of incidents in which patients, or someone with them in the hospital, began filming their care.
On one occasion a radiology department assistant from the south coast was inserting a cannula into a patient who had cancer when their 19-year-old daughter began filming.
“She wanted to record the cannulation because she thought it would be entertaining on social media.* But she didn’t ask permission,” the staff member said.
“I spent the weekend afterwards worrying: did I do my job properly? I know I did, but no one’s perfect all the time and this was recorded. I don’t think I slept for the whole weekend.”
They were also concerned that a patient in the next bay was giving consent for a colonoscopy – an invasive diagnostic test – at the same time as the daughter was filming her mother close by. “That could all have been recorded on the film, including names and dates of birth,” they said.
Ashley d’Aquino, a therapeutic radiographer in London, said a colleague had agreed to take photographs for a patient, “but when the patient handed over her phone the member of staff saw that the patient had also been covertly recording her, to publish on her cancer blog.

*Emphasis mine.

First we go back to miasmatic theory, then we go back to operations as spectator sport?

How very different, I would argue, are Barbara Hepworth's 'Hospital Drawings':

Capener began purchasing some of Hepworth’s art, which in turn helped with the costs of her daughter’s surgery. He later asked the artist if she might be interested in observing some of the procedures taking place in the operating theatre. Hepworth, initially horrified by this thought, decided to go. The materials that she needed to make her sculptures were scarce during postwar Britain, meaning she also had more time on her hands to explore other projects.
Hepworth soon became fascinated with the surgical process. She was particularly moved by the methodical rhythm of the surgeon’s hands and the concentration in their eyes. The eyes and hands are rendered with a delicacy and softness, with attentively modulated grey-white tones. They emerge from the cruder, more abstract marks in blue, green and other similar hues. Her drawing techniques somehow brings the scene to life; the many flowing lines are suggestive of the creases forming in the doctors’ blue gowns, created by their constant movement around the horizontal, inert patient. After many visits, Hepworth had created a body of work which revealed her wonderful abilities as a draughtsperson, as well as a sculptor.

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Every Day Above Ground ([personal profile] mallorys_camera) wrote2025-06-17 08:11 am
Entry tags:

The Talented Mr. Ripley

Dreamed I had been drafted and was about to be flown off to a war in a foreign land, only I couldn't find my purse & was panicking because how could I fly if I didn't have any ID?

Somehow I knew, though, that this was only a dream and kept telling myself, Don't worry, your purse is where you always stash it—near your desk!

(Editorial note: I have a tendency to misplace things and waste hours looking for them, so over the years have trained myself to put logistical stuff—keys, bills, purse—in specific spots to track them. It's what passes for organization in my world.)

But knowing where my purse was in the woke world did not solve my quandary in the dream world. Where was my purse? And if I could not find it, what would they do to me?

Frantically, I began calling people I'd seen the night before to see if they knew.

Then, as the first soldiers in my squadron were lining up to board the plane, Mrs. Neighbor Ed showed up with my purse!

She put it down.

I tried to pick it up—but a filigree gold chain spilling out of the purse had somehow gotten caught in whatever she'd put the purse down on, so I couldn't move it. And I was getting frantic—Should I break the gold chain? But the gold chain is so beautiful!—when I woke up.

###

Decided yesterday to pretend that exercise is really, really baaaaad for you and that lolling around on the lounging couch watching every Ripley movie ever made & eating cookies is what scientists recommend for disease prevention and wellness promotion.

The Criterion Channel—Ichabod kindly gifted me a subscription—is doing a marathon.

My favorite Ripley is actually the recent Netflix The Talented Mr. Ripley. It's the truest to the novel. Most viewers hated it because it was shot in black and white—lush, colorful Italy? In black and white?—but I actually thought that was a brilliant choice in a film about deception because it emphasized the shots' composition, allowing you to see the bones of the piece. And Andrew Scott is very, very good in it, although the rest of the cast is uniformly awful.

The popular favorite is Anthony Minghella's The Talented Mr. Ripley with Matt Damon—fresh from Good Will Hunting!—in the title role. The gay undercurrents in this one are pushed from subtext to declamative, but I personally think that's too easy an out: Ripley does what he does and is who he is not because he is tortured by his own sexuality but because he's a complete sociopath.

And then, of course, there's Plein soleil whose Ripley is Alain Delon, the most beautiful human male ever born. Adonis only wishes he looked like Alain Delon in his youth! This one holds a special place in my heart because I first saw it when I was eight years old—my mother was too poor to be able to afford babysitters, so she always brought me with her when she went to see the foreign movies she so loved. This is the only Ripley in which Ripley is brought to justice—I suppose because it was made in 1960 and back in 1960, people hadn't yet started rooting for the sociopaths.

###

This YouTube video provides an excellent compare-and-contrast of Minghella's Ripley and Plein soleil:

conuly: (Default)
conuly ([personal profile] conuly) wrote2025-06-20 02:24 am

Guess who's working the election next week!

I honestly should stop by the ETG thrift store and see if I can get a different dress, though - my options are long pants and sleeves, or a bright red dress, which seems... well, anyway. It's a great dress in most other contexts, though. (Maybe a skirt? I could find a skirt and a nice short-sleeved top? Then again, if this weather continues the way it has been I might be better off bundled up! It's mid-June and my heater is on.)

*************


Read more... )
oursin: hedgehog wearing a yellow flower (Hedgehog with flower)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-16 07:55 pm
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A certain chuffedness

I cannot help myself feeling a certain gratification when a reviews editor calls the reviews I have just submitted 'beautifully written' and is eager to solicit further (though as I have several others in hand, may not take this up very urgently....) (Preen, preen.)

Have also been solicited quite out of the blue to take part in a podcast. WOT.

It is also very pleasing that the return of Lady Bexbury and her extensive circle is appreciated.

***

Not so very long ago I posted about this lady who worked for SOE way back when: and now Blaise Metreweli named as first woman to lead UK intelligence service MI6.

I thought The secret lives of MI6’s top female spies this was connected - it's actually 2022 but maybe being reposted for the new association. There are several paragraphs of aged former secret agent lady waxing snarky about the sexism aforetimes that precluded advancement up the ranks.

Beneath her tales of life in the service there is real anger about the way women were treated. Both she and her great friend, Daphne Park — a fellow senior SIS officer who died in 2010 at the age of 88 — led distinguished careers but failed to reach the highest ranks. This, they suspected, was due to their gender.
Ramsay speaks in a soft Scots burr which rises audibly when I ask about SIS’s record on female officers. She feels particularly aggrieved that Park, a life-long intelligence officer who held SIS postings in Moscow, Lusaka, Hanoi and Ulan Bator, did not progress to the most senior levels. (MI6 would neither confirm nor deny it had employed Park.) “There’s no doubt in my mind that Daphne should have been at least one rung up as the deputy chief position. I can say that without any equivocation,” Ramsay says, tapping a lacquered pink fingernail on the table. Park, described unkindly in one obituary as looking “more like Miss Marple than Mata Hari”, resigned early from the service in 1979, having told a friend that she would never be promoted to SIS chief because of her gender.
By the early 1990s, Ramsay was rumoured to be in the running for the post of C, although shortlists are never publicly acknowledged. Privately, she thought the promotion of a woman to that role would still be “quite impossible”.... She observes that while many talented women such as Noor Inayat Khan excelled in the Special Operations Executive, a wartime secret service and sabotage unit set up in 1940, there was a long period afterwards when women ceased to be employed as intelligence officers at all. Ramsay recounts an episode in the 1970s when she came across a woman she thought would make a “perfect” agent-runner. She telephoned the head of recruitment to discuss the prospect, who told her they weren’t looking for women. “He said, ‘It would take an extraordinary gel’ — and it was the ‘gel’ that got to me — ‘to be an intelligence officer’. And I said, ‘Well, it would take an extraordinary boy too, but it hasn’t stopped you recruiting males!’”

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Every Day Above Ground ([personal profile] mallorys_camera) wrote2025-06-16 09:22 am
Entry tags:

Heavy Mental Lifting

Went over the bridge to poke around in the Hyde Park garden yesterday.

Grass clippings seem to be doing their job of keeping the weeds down, plus my lettuce is harvestable. I took home enough of it to keep me in salads for the rest of the week:





Also, most mysteriously, a California Golden Poppy had popped up out of nowhere, and this made me very happy because it made me think I might figure out a way to get back to California one of these days. The augers just keep coming!



Afterwards, I toddled off to visit with Belinda.

We talked about the Israel/Iran situation.

"But Hamas!" she said. "It's a terrorist organization!"

I shrugged. "How do you define 'terrorist'? A political organization that uses violence & fear to achieve political ends?"

She nodded vigerously. "Yeah! That!"

"Well, by that definition, Israel is a terrorist organization."

She stared at me, shocked.

"Here's the thing. For hundreds of years, the people who eventually coalesced to form the nation state of Israel were under Ottoman Turk rule. And then for 30 years, it was a British protectorate. And during that entire time, any organization that lobbied for sovereignty or self-rule for the area was outlawed and so naturally turned to violence to achieve its ends.

"It gets complicated, of course, because the majority of Israelis today are descendants of Ashkenazis who migrated after World War II.

"Still. If you look at the history of the area—the future Israelis were once in exactly the same position as the people of Gaza. That should give them—well. Not sympathy for Hamas. But at least an understanding of why Hamas might seem attractive. And that understanding is key to defusing Hamas's attractiveness.

"Instead, they are acting exactly like the Ottomans & the Brits who opppressed them—"

I could see the rusty wheels start turning in Belinda's head.

Whether or not she ends up agreeing with me is irrelevant.

But I think people need to get into the habit of doing heavy mental lifting on their own.

###

Then we toddled off to the movies!

We saw Materialists. I was curious about Celine Song's follow-up to Past Lives.

Materialists is pretty awful.

But you know, the Hyde Park Roosevelt Theater has stale Raisinettes! And heated recliners. So, I had a good time.
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-16 10:04 am

(no subject)

Happy birthday, [personal profile] quoththeravyn and [personal profile] rahael!
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flemmings ([personal profile] flemmings) wrote2025-06-15 05:02 pm
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(no subject)

If I didn't know that going to restaurants on Father's Day was a bad idea, the amount of woodsmoke would have discouraged me anyway. Either the whole neighbourhood was barbecuing or something somewhere was burning. Whatever, it's been cough sneeze all day, except briefly to pick up the vines and such I cut down in the back yard yesterday.  Must still bag them, a task I hate, but pickup is this week. In the rain, as ever.

Have also a bin of ivy that I got from the front walk last night. The ivy is an unmitigated pain because it isn't just encroaching on the walk, it's actually growing over the concrete edging. And the stems are beyond my shears' and elbows' ability to cut through. 

Stooping and straightening of course tightens everything up, and stretching doesn't undo the worst of it. Is one reason I really didn't want to get out of bed this morning.
oursin: Frontispiece from C17th household manual (Accomplisht Lady)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-15 07:16 pm
Entry tags:

Culinary

Last week's bread held out very well.

There was even enough left over to make frittata with chopped red bell pepper for Friday night supper.

Saturday breakfast rolls: brown toasted pinenut, with strong brown flour.

Today's lunch: partridge breasts lightly seasoned with salt and pepper, panfried in butter with a little olive oil, deglazed with a splash or so of white wine, served with kasha, baby sugar snap peas roasted in walnut oil and splashed with elderflower vinegar, and asparagus steamed and tossed in melted butter + lime juice.

mallorys_camera: (Default)
Every Day Above Ground ([personal profile] mallorys_camera) wrote2025-06-15 10:01 am

Accept Loss Forever



So, maybe 400 people turned out for the Gardiner demonstration?

More impressive than it sounds! The entire population of the village is only aound 4,000.

I went alone, but I did not stay alone. A sizeable contingent of Shwanagunk Dems showed up & as it turned out, I knew all the parade monitors from canvassing or campaigning:



Plus bonus celebrity sighting! Fourteen second mark on yr screen! Still got my People Magazine chops!



This is quite possibly the worst photo of me EVER TAKEN.

When you are fighting fascism, I remind myself, you must be fearless and eschew vanity.



On my way back to the casa, I stopped at the transfer station to drop off two weeks' worth of garbage & recyclables. (Icky, you may recall, does not believe in paying for garbage disposal). I passed Ellen walking her daughter's dog, so I stopped to chat.

Now, I haven't seen Ellen in two months or so.

And that was kind of strange because I'd been seeing Ellen regularly for months before that. In fact, Ellen is one of only two real friends I have in this area.

Was she mad at me? Had I done something to offend her? Something absolutely unforgivable? Though I couldn't remember doing something absolutely unforgivable, and generally, I'm quite good at identifying examples of my own obnoxious behavior (even when I don't agree they're obnoxious.)

I'd called her a couple of times: No traction. I'd left her a goofy little gift in her mailbox: campfire sparkles! (She likes doing bonfires.) A pro forma thank you text.

Well, I thought, it's too bad, but apparently Ellen doesn't like you anymore, and what was the one useful thing that Jack Kerouak ever said? Number 19 on his list of "Belief & Technique for Modern Prose"?

Accept loss forever

(Works great for missing earrings, too!)


###

One look at Ellen's face, and I could see: It wasn't me, it was her. She looked like one of the walking dead. Deeply, terminally depressed. Heavy bags under her eyes.

Ellen is one of those people who likes to pretend she doesn't have emotions, doesn't have an inner life. When I tried to hug her that time after she dug my car out of the ice, she waved me off, embarrassed.

Now, as it happens, the one & only time I have ever been inside Ellen's house was around the time she stopped talking to me. We'd been selling Duck Derby tickets together at the post office. (Small town boosterism! Never Enuff Weird!) I was about to go off & investigate the Sherpa Festival that had magically appeared in an abandoned meadow, except that it was a hot day, I'd been drinking lots & lots of water, & I really had to pee!

"Well, you can pee at my house," Ellen said. Ellen's house was about a mile away from the magical Sherpa festival.

When I went inside Ellen's house, I was shocked to see it was kind of a hoarder house. Rooms & rooms crammed with furniture that nobody used & this general sense of profound neglect. I imagined it had been that way since Ellen's husband died five years ago.

I didn't say anything. I hid my shock.

But when Ellen stopped talking to me, I did wonder whether it was connected to the fact that I'd been inside her house. Whether she was ashamed I'd seen too much.

Anyway, it was good to reconnect. Even in such a small way.

I was on my best banter! I made her laugh!

And after 10 minutes, I said, "Well, darlin', you have my number. Call if you feel like it. I always have your back."

'Cause really. What else could I say?

###

In the evening, I went to a D&D meetup.

My regular D&D group hasn't met in several weeks—ostensibly because the DM is getting married in a couple of months & his weekends are now occupied with wedding-related events, but really—according to the DM of last night's game—because he is a Trump supporter & disliked all the fringe types in the original group.

I didn't pick that up from the original DM at all, and I mean, really: If he is a Trump supporter, so what? It didn't affect the game—which was a kind of Viking wayfarer adventure.

And I didn't like last night's game. I went because I'm still learning how to tell the various dice apart, & when to throw them, & why—if I have 18 charisma points—I'm supposed to keep subtracting four.

Last night's DM was very big on underground crypts strewn with vomit, crusty scabs, & mummifying guts. Imagery that does not appeal to moi!

The other players were gay males. They were all very nice to me, tolerant of my blunders. One of them—pink Galadriel hair and fabulously manicured hands, each nail painted a different color—was a member of the Democratic Socialists of America party, so in between dice rolls, we talked politics, utterly boring the other players. Apparently, No Kings Day conflicted with many prescheduled local Pride Day events, and that's why so many No Kings events had been shunted to out-of-the-way locations. The primo locales had been booked in advance! There was some bad blood twixt the No King-ers and the Pridies!

Last night's DM is a very bitter guy. And dark—without knowing he is dark, somehow. Growing up gay in a Hudson Valley backwater 40 years ago was a very different experience than growing up gay, say, in Berkeley, California. More akin to growing up gay next door to Matthew Shepard in Laramie, Wisconsin. The Taliban itself would approve of Wallkill's heteronormative standards!!!

Still, I found myself not liking the guy, which meant it was difficult to sympathize with him.
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-15 01:11 pm

(no subject)

Happy birthday, [personal profile] twistedchick!
conuly: (Default)
conuly ([personal profile] conuly) wrote2025-06-14 04:04 pm

(no subject)

Minnesota House DFL leader Hortman, husband killed in apparent ‘politically motivated’ shooting; Sen. Hoffman, wife wounded

Authorities still searching for suspect in shooting of 2 Minnesota state lawmakers

Apparently he dressed up like a cop, because of course he did, and residents are advised not to open the door to police unless there are multiple officers present. I'd go one step further and say that you should never open the door to an unexpected official until you've confirmed that they're supposed to be there. If they are legit, they have an ID, and you have a phone number you can call - your local precinct, if they're cops, your gas company, whoever it is. (Uh. Maybe step out the back door to call if they say they're from the gas company. I mean, use your best judgment.)
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conuly ([personal profile] conuly) wrote2025-06-14 04:01 pm

Weirdly specific firefox question

If I'm typing a URL and I then use the scroll wheel to middle-click it in the address window it will open in a new tab rather than on the same tab I'm on.

Now, when I open a new tab by clicking a link to open a new tab it opens right next to the tab I'm on. If I do it via the address window or the new tab button then it opens all the way at the end of my tabs, which is annoying and disorienting if I'm not already all the way at the end.

Is there a setting, perhaps in about:config, that I can adjust to change this behavior so it always opens new tabs next to the one I'm on?
conuly: (Default)
conuly ([personal profile] conuly) wrote2025-06-17 11:25 am

OMGOMGOMG!!!!

The last season of The Strange Case of the Starship Iris is finally here.

Okay, only the first episode so far (and two pre-season teasers) but... omg.

I've summed this one up for you all before as "Everybody is gay while fighting fascism in space" and "Turns out, fascism is both racist and inefficient", so yes, that does make it the perfect thing to listen to while heading out to protest. (Speaking of....)

*****************


Read more... )
oursin: Books stacked on shelves, piled up on floor, rocking chair in foreground (books)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-14 05:28 pm
Entry tags:

Where would I even begin?

(And didn't we have something similar, like, maybe 20 years ago on LiveJournal?)

Thing going round on bluesky recently-

'Ten authors you've read five books by'.

*Looks around just one room and its bookshelves*

Me: Maybe I could break this down into groups, I dunno, perhaps?

Thrillers? Sff? Litfic? (might break this down further into Obscure Victorian/Edwardian Novelists, Middlebrow Women Writers of the 20s/30s, the 60s Generation???) Bloke writers for whom I have a weakness? Beloved childhood faves?

And then I think, nah, this is too much effort.

I was a bit took aback by suggestions that people might be curating their 10 to look Cool or SRS or at least, not given to ingesting The Wrong Sort of Book, perish the thort.

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Every Day Above Ground ([personal profile] mallorys_camera) wrote2025-06-14 08:56 am
Entry tags:

Never Enuff Dying Frogs!!!!

Of course, the real reason Israel bombed Iran was not to curb the Iranian threat to Israel's continuing survival but to curb the parliamentary threat to Netanyahu's continuing survival: In the days leading up to Israel's attack, Netanyahu was widely reported to be on the ropes after his opposition submitted a bill to dissolve parliament, with his ultra-Orthodox coalition partners threatening to support the measure and force early elections.

This is just so fucking craven, I want to scream.

The boys throw stones at the frogs for sport
But the frogs die in earnest...


###

Meanwhile, I'm gonna go to the demonstration in Gardiner today.

It'll probably be the smallest of the Hudson Valley No Kings events, and, of course, Gardener is a liberal enclave so any marching around and "Fuck Trump!" screaming I do will be virtue signaling.

But I actually looked at the maps of the various demonstrations throughout the Hudson Valley, and it looks as though the only parade permits they could get were in out-of-the-way parks or half-empty strip malls far from Hustle & Bustle Central.

If I'm gonna demonstrate where nobody can see me, I might as well demonstrate where nobody can see me close to my house where the parking is manageable.

###

Apart from that...

I Remunerated & went to the gym yesterday in a kind of fugue state.

This living through a momentous time in history shit is very exhausting.
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flemmings ([personal profile] flemmings) wrote2025-06-13 07:11 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

The cool temps aren't as cool as I'd hoped, but will take them over the high 20s forecast next week. Am seriously considering returning Amina for the next person because what I want is easy care, tried and true Brit stuff, Miss Silver and Inspector Littlejohn, not complicated fantasy. However, Damned finally appears in the middle of postal shenanigans,  so shall read that as a compromise: Brit (alright, European) fantasy. And thanks very much, G.
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
oursin ([personal profile] oursin) wrote2025-06-13 04:54 pm

Various & misc

Don't think I've previously either come across this or posted it, but who knows: Out on the Town: Magnus Hirschfeld and Berlin’s Third Sex: 'Years before the Weimar Republic’s well-chronicled freedoms, the 1904 non-fiction study Berlin’s Third Sex depicted an astonishingly diverse subculture of sexual outlaws in the German capital'.

***

Something else suitable for Pride Month: Rachel Carson and the Power of Queer Love (review):

provides an original and stirring account of a non-commodifying queer love between two women and nonhuman nature—a love that was the defining relationship of Carson’s life and yet has been downplayed in heteronormative tellings of her story. So, too, is Maxwell’s work a convincing argument for this queer love’s formative role in the writing of Silent Spring, as well as an empowering message about how embracing queer feelings might function as a catalyst for “political and personal power” in contemporary environmental politics.

***

I think I have some copies of The Pioneer journal associated with this club, but they are somewhere in the maelstrom (I am gearing up to Doing Something About this, having acquired intelligence of a body that will collect books for charity): The Pioneer Club (1892-1939): A ladies' club at the forefront of late Victorian social reform, which suffered a long, slow decline in the early 20th century.

***

Peter McLagan (1823-1900): Scotland’s first Black MP:

[S]ources suggest that McLagan’s mother was probably of Black Caribbean or Black African descent.... McLagan’s father, Peter McLagan (1774-1860)... enslaved over 400 people on his plantations and personal estate in Demerara.

In fact there is strong evidence as mentioned in that article that he was by no means the first Black MP. Issues of class and family connections clearly played a significant role up to the mid-C19th.

***

An ancient writing system confounding myths about Africa:

'How come a country that did not have a colonial past in Zambia had so many artefacts from Zambia in its collection?'"
In the 19th and early 20th Centuries Swedish explorers, ethnographers and botanists would pay to travel on British ships to Cape Town and then make their way inland by rail and foot.
....
The Swedish museum had not done any research on the cloaks - and the National Museums Board of Zambia was not even aware they existed.

***

Artist's work to restore damaged shell grotto (I put this in a short story once.) (My own theory is that it was originally A Folly. Doing things with shells was as I recall quite A Thing in the C18th and Mrs Delany and her mate the Duchess of Portland had a rather less concealed shell grotto?)