A recent string of minor misfortunes

I had a bad day recently, the exact opposite of what I expected. 

I had planned a circular walkabout that would combine fresh air, exercise, errands, a treat and a visit to a park. 

Unfortunately, it was more of an endurance test than an enjoyable experience. It was just one thing after another, so I gave in and went home. 

Unfortunately, that was not the end of the misfortunes.

It all started when I went to get some money from the cash machine. When I pressed the button, all I got was my balance on the screen. I felt paranoid, as though I had been cut off from my money. After a few more tries, I realised that the menu text on the screen was misaligned with the buttons. I got my cash out and went on to the library, where I found that my library card wouldn’t go through any of the machines so had to ask the librarian to do everything manually.

I got some takeaway breakfast items. My plan was to eat them in a local public garden. I walked down a steep street and along the park railings. The gate I wanted to use was chained up: there was a lot of construction work going on. I had to walk all the way back to another gate, past all the vans and workmen.

Mayor and Llewelyn Davies connections: a tangled web

This article consists of material left over from my recent post about convenient deaths associated with the Austen, Mayor and Disraeli families. While doing the research for that post, I came across some information, leads and connections that I wanted to follow up. I decided to stick to the main subjects and leave the extra material and further research for another time.

Mary Sheepshanks and her connections

Flora M. Mayor was a lifelong friend of the social reformer Mary Sheepshanks. Mary Sheepshanks knew Flora’s fiancé Ernest Shepherd; Flora at one time believed that Ernest preferred Mary. Mary actually had feelings for someone else:

“In 1905 Mary Sheepshanks fell in love with Theodore Llewelyn Davies. However, he was in love with Meg Booth, the daughter of social investigator, Charles Booth. After she refused him, Davies committed suicide. “

Suicide is only suspected: he drowned while bathing alone in a pool in the River Lune. It is thought that he hit his head on a rock. He was 34 years old at the time.

Theodore Llewelyn Davies was uncle to the five Llewelyn Davies brothers, one of whom also drowned in a suspected suicide pact.

Disraelis and Mayors: more convenient deaths

I have written elsewhere about the convenient – and possibly suspicious - deaths of the men who were engaged to be married to Jane Austen’s sister Cassandra and J M Barrie’s sister Maggie.

In both cases, the bereaved young women remained available to their siblings as their main source of companionship, emotional support and admiration. In other words, both Jane Austen and J. M. Barrie benefitted from the deaths of the men who would have been their brothers-in-law.

I have found two more cases of interest, with similar elements.

Alice Mayor and F. M. Mayor

Flora Macdonald Mayor wrote novels and short stories under the name F. M. Mayor, mostly between 1913 and 1929. She had an identical twin sister, Alice. Just like Jane Austen, Flora had brothers but only the one sister.

Flora spent some time at university, where she did not do particularly well. She spent the next seven years looking for an occupation. She hoped to succeed as a professional actress, but that too did not turn out very well. The life was hard, the glamour faded, and she became tired of the lifestyle and the squalid lodgings.

People in such situations often dream of deliverance. Salvation came in the form of a young architect called Ernest Shepherd, who, just like Cassandra Austen’s fiancé, could not afford to get married immediately so hoped to make his fortune overseas. 

He was accepted for a well-paid job in India, and this enabled him to propose to Flora. He then left for India. Although she was not happy at the prospect of being separated from her family, Flora agreed to join him later in the year: they would then get married.  Unfortunately, he died of typhoid fever out there while she was still in England.

Alice MacDonald Mayor had not been in favour of the marriage. She was desolate at the thought of losing her twin to India. Just like the Austen sisters, the two Mayor girls lived closely together for their remaining years. Flora died at the age of 59; Alice lived on for another 29 years.

Some small synchronicities from 2013

Big, spectacular synchronicities – such as the encounter with Archbishop Trevor Huddleston for example - for some reason seem to be a thing of the past.

I have posted my best memories, but the record is not complete. I wish I had made notes of all of the small synchronicities that I experienced over the years but I didn’t, so some of them are probably gone forever. 

I have started to record on here any current interesting coincidences that occur in my life, just to keep a record.

I have just remembered a few synchronicities that occurred almost exactly two years ago. During 2013 I was doing a lot of research and posting the results on the David Icke forum as part of a huge dot-joining operation. While this was going on, I experienced some interesting small coincidences which are worth bringing together and posting on here. 

The little smile and the gleam in the eye: another sinister scenario

There is an unpleasant phenomenon that occurs in some people’s lives. Unlike other unseen influences, energy vampirism for example, there is not much information available about it. Finding a new example recently was the inspiration for this article.

Stella Gibbons and the little smile
I first became aware of this phenomenon as something that happens in other people’s lives when I was reading about Stella Gibbons’s turbulent early life. 

Her father was domineering, violent and melodramatic:

“In one memorable incident when she was 11, her melancholic father threatened suicide and her mother begged Stella to intervene. Even at that age, she recognized that her father was secretly enjoying the agony he was inflicting on his family, and this pretense and emotional cruelty left a deep impression.”

http://planetpeschel.com/2009/09/stella-gibbons-kills-a-genre-1932/

The little smile is mentioned in Out of the Woodshed: A Life of Stella Gibbons by Reggie Oliver:

“As the ranting went on Stella noticed that Telford had a slight smile on his face and was deriving a secret pleasure from the scene, much as an actor might do from tearing a passion to tatters. She was appalled. To suffer from a fit of despair was one thing; but actually enjoying causing a scene was quite another.” 

This incident speaks for itself; it has been described as a turning point in Stella’s life. Reading about it was a turning point for me: I remembered seeing a few secret little smiles myself, and realised that I was not alone in having such experiences.