20th FMS Upper Heyford England

01/03/2026

04/02/2024

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 !!! 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗥 𝗠𝗘𝗠𝗕𝗘𝗥𝗦, 𝗪𝗘'𝗥𝗘 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗨𝗘 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗜𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗦𝗔𝗬 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨P.
lemon loaf😋😋😍😍😍
Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
Must express something to keep getting my recipes.... Thank you.
Full recipe 👇 💬

02/19/2024

Stay humble!

02/19/2024

Finally got his own room!

12/20/2023

🎄🎄🎄
https://pin.it/6FGL03L

12/20/2023

This is an interesting interpretation of “joyful.”

12/20/2023

Real Beauty 😍

12/05/2023

In case you need it !

12/05/2023

“Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost.

They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

“Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.

“They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And bide the end!”

“Have they no refuge or resource?” cried Scrooge.

“Are there no prisons?” said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. “Are there no workhouses?”

“A Christmas Carol” Charles Dickens - 1843

Illustration by J.P. Lynch