- Every situation in your life can be boiled down to a quote from ‘Pride and Prejudice’,
- You know what the word ‘diverted’ means…
- And how to use it in a sentence,
- The voice in your head speaks with an English accent,
- You insult people by telling them ‘I send no compliments to your mother’,
- You are especially gracious to rude young men in case they are Mr. Darcy,
- You dream of a double wedding,
- Your dream wedding ceremony starts with ‘dearly beloved…’
- You want a corset…
- And a high waisted gown,
- You wish you had the time to pick chamomile while talking to your mother about your sister’s dashed romance,
- You worry about your reputation in ‘society’…even if no one else does,
- Going on walks in the country is on your list of to-do’s,
- Writing letters by hand, and preferably with a steel pen and ink, is appealing,
- You wish men actually wore nice things on a daily basis,
- You wish that Lizzy would have smacked Wickham instead of letting him kiss her hand,
- Hertfordshire is on your bucket list of places to go
If you relate to any of these things, or think of other defining traits of Austen fans, please comment!
Isn’t it just like Christmas in the middle of the year when you get the notification: the title you had on hold is available for pick up. Does anyone ever read the following dates and small print? I know I don’t. I figure out just how soon I can get there.
And isn’t it torture when you can’t get to town until tomorrow? Worse yet, when you don’t see the notification and they send it back! That is pretty much a bookworm’s worst nightmare.
Oh, the joy when the librarian slides your precious, long-awaited present across the counter and you finally get to hold it! I always want to start reading it as soon as I get into the car for the drive home, but I know I’ll get car sick, so I wait for a few more agonizing minutes until I’m safely in my dent on the couch and then I crack open the cover for the first time…and devour it. Preferably in one sitting.
I came into this book with pretty high expectations, knowing something of the author, but unfortunately, it wasn’t my cup of tea.
My Rating: Three stars
I was very sorry to miss a day writing to you, but
truthfully, I was too busy. Everything
has been in uproar these last two days.
Mrs. Sheepshanks discovered my friend Fredrick, the mouse, and I only
barely averted her attempt on his life.
She was angry with me, but even more angry with her beast of a cat. She refused to feed him, since he had
obviously failed in his job to keep down the mice. I think she hoped that if George was hungry,
he would try to catch my little friend.
I did the only thing I could think of, which was to feed the dragon in
the hopes of pacifying it. I’m beginning
to believe the maid was right, and that George came straight from hell, for as
soon as I placed the scraps I’d painstakingly collected for him on the floor,
the demon swatted my hand and left me with bloody scratches. I’ve been terribly tempted to catch him and
use a little ether to get rid of him. If
I didn’t have a conscience I would have by now.
I miss you dreadfully. This room is cold and still. My only friend, a small mouse, is nibbling a few crumbs I put out for him. Mrs. Sheepshanks is downstairs, moping sullenly. She fought with the maid again last night. This time, the poor girl fought back, and Mrs. Sheepshanks is currently sporting a black eye. The maid was immediately fired, of course, which leaves me no one but you to talk to. You and Fredrick; the mouse. He is a handsome fellow, as mice go, and I wondered that he wasn’t married until the other day I caught him sneaking a crumb to a pretty little field mouse that lives in the hedge that borders this wretched place. So far, his clandestine meetings have gone unnoticed by George: Mrs. Sheepshanks’ cat. I’m going to try and keep it that way, even if it means playing up to the fat grouch.
Mrs. Sheepshanks is screaming at the boys next door, now. I can’t repeat what she’s saying, but it’s funny. Apparently, she thinks they were the ones who left the scrub brush on the cellar stairs for her to trip on. She either forgot, or doesn’t care, that she left it there herself.
Oh, dear! It’s time to go down for supper, and I must conclude. I won’t pain you by saying how much I miss you, but I do so long for the day when you come for me.
A collection of letters written to her fiancé in the west, the letters of Sarah Norman chronicle the somewhat dreary life of a young woman, and her friend, Fredrick, a mouse.
I wrote the first letter as a sort of bored exercise, but I really liked Sarah and Fredrick, and their war against Mrs. Sheepshanks and her wicked cat: George, had to be continued, so I wrote the second, and I hope there are more to come.
This is the fourth of a four-part fan fiction story based on the characters of author Susan K. Marlow’s Circle C Adventures. This story also won first place in the 14-17 age category of Mrs. Marlow’s annual short story contest. ‘Proper Andi’ is meant to fill the gap between Mrs. Marlow’s ‘Andrea Carter and the San Francisco Smugglers’, and ‘Andrea Carter and the Trouble with Treasure’, dealing specifically with Andi’s struggle with growing up, and still doing the things she loves…which don’t happen to be considered ‘proper’.
supper they adjourned to the sitting room. Mitch and Justin buried themselves
in their respective dime novels and newspaper, Chad picked up a harness he was
mending, and Elizabeth and Melinda sat down to sew.
avoided sewing. Her stitches didn’t lie, no matter what kind of manners she put
on for the moment. She hoped Jenny would do the same, but the cheerful tomboy
from Washington state plopped down in a chair and brought out an embroidery
Who hasn’t heard this phrase being used in connection with a
tragic event or sudden loss?
It is odd to me that the only time we pull out our
it-must-have-been-God’s-will card is when something horrible happens. Kind of funny nobody uses it when somebody
gets born again, or a miracle happens, huh?
A little bit fishy that we claim the God we serve loves us and died for
us, only to turn around the next minute and lay the blame for everything wrong
in our lives squarely on God with that one little phrase.
This is the third of a four-part fan fiction story based on the characters of author Susan K. Marlow’s Circle C Adventures. This story also won first place in the 14-17 age category of Mrs. Marlow’s annual short story contest. ‘Proper Andi’ is meant to fill the gap between Mrs. Marlow’s ‘Andrea Carter and the San Francisco Smugglers’, and ‘Andrea Carter and the Trouble with Treasure’, dealing specifically with Andi’s struggle with growing up, and still doing the things she loves…which don’t happen to be considered ‘proper’.
surrey rolled into the yard and stopped at the barn. Chad jumped out and
grudgingly held up his hand for Andi.
took it and hopped down. “Why are we stopped here?”
thought you’d like to see Taffy first.”
laughed. “I’ll see Taffy after dinner. I’m exhausted and dirty from my journey.
I want to clean up and eat. Taffy can wait.”
stared, speechless. Then an angry flush spread over his face, and he glared. “I
want to know what’s going on, Miss Frills-and-manners. Do we mean nothing to
you? What about Taffy? She’s missed you for two whole months, and now that
you’re home, you don’t care?”
bit her lip angrily. They all wanted her to be a lady, and now that she was
acting like one, Chad was yelling at her.
touching, but I really must clean up. Tell Taffy I missed her too.” Andi blew a
kiss toward the barn and glided to the house.