Showing posts with label Molly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Molly. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Yours Faithfully... Letter #12

My dearest Aunt,

I am sorry it has been so long since I have written. Ever since Cassandra has come my new mama has kept us all quite busy paying calls, going to dinners and spending our times out and about doing frivolous things I am not used to doing. However, I cannot complain too greatly the busyness keeps me distracted and distraction is what I most desire now.

I regret to write that I have failed to visit Uncle and your boys, mama states that I am not suppose to make calls on people in mourning. She said people in mourning are best left alone and they wouldn't want to be interrupted in their grief. I don't remember such exclusion after my mother died... father went right back to work as he had to and I was surrounded by Miss Browning, Miss Phoebe, and you. I didn't like to be alone then. I guess my uncle has Hugh and Ozzie to be with him and I guess that must be enough. I do wish to see them though mama says impossible.

The only good news is soon it will be Easter and most of the town is eager about the ball at The Towers. It s truly my first ball and I am very nervous. Cassandra is so kind, when I told her I was nervous she started giving me dance lessons. Mama calls silly girls, Cassandra says it is good for us to practice as dancing is a sure sign to a man that we are true ladies. I don't think I am a true lady, I have been practicing my dance steps for weeks but I am still step on Cassandra's toes and I get the counting off. I wish Hugh or Ozzie could come to the ball, they are like my brothers and I know if I was dancing with them I wouldn't be so nervous. Actually, I don't know if they dance. I figure Ozzie does as you would not let him go through his childhood without teaching him, and he is far more poetic then Hugh and all poets must dance, for dancing is poetry in movement. I don't know it that is a quote from a book or not... it feels like something I have read.

I wish I could see Hugh, I finished his newest recommendation and I would love to discuss with him. There were a few passages I did not understand about the Arabian desert and I thought Hugh would help me make sense of them. He is so well educated and I am sure from the way he speaks he has been all over the world or at least read up on every part of the world. Sometimes when I speak to him I feel so uneducated. Not by his words or actions, he has always made me feel at easy, but yet I know how more he has learned than I have. He seems to understands faster than I could. And though he is far my superior in education he has such a warm and generous heart. He has not become cynical in his learning. He still believes the best in people, well he sees the best in me, always encouraging me to read far beyond what I am used to. Last time I saw him he said I had a mind far superior than most men he had met. I will take that as a compliment, even if I struggled to follow him and Ozzie's conversations. 

I must leave now, mama calls me, we are to attend the dress makers and I am to have a new dress for the ball. Oh how fabulous that will be. 

All my love.

P.S.- I will keep me posted on Uncle and your sons as soon as I can.

Previous Post

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Yours faithfully... Letter #10, 11

Hello lovely readers,

First, I know last week I posted a snip it of a story idea that came to my mind but I have decided two works in progress was enough for me to handle. I have been loving these letters as a way to retell one of my novels Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell. Second, I am happy and surprised that this story has lasted so long since it really just came out of a free-write in April, but I have been enjoying this project and I hope you have too.

Previous post
Dearest Aunt,
I am at a loss of what to say. I cannot breath. My heart is broken. How can you be gone?

Everyone thought you were on the mend and now you are gone. I wonder if you even hear my last letter and if it in any small brought you comfort. It probably came at the time when you were at your worse and you never heard it, and you will not hear this or read this as you are now gone.

People will think it is odd to write to you now that you are dead but you were my truest comfort and it only feels natural to write you even though you will never read this. 

Oh my dearest Aunt, I am at a loss. You were truer to me than my own late mama. I barely remember her, I was only three, and looking back on it I feel as though one day she was there and then gone the next. Besides the portrait of us taken when I was baby I have no remembrance of  how she looked or what it was like to be held by her. You were my second mother, no matter what my new mama tells me. 

I feel I cannot cry around her, she so hates to see grief. My one comfort at this moment is Cassie who lets me sit and cry on her shoulder. She is always so generous and loving. Her beauty on the outside reflects the pureness of her heart. I do not know how I would get through this moment without her strength.

I am being selfish. I wish I could be with Uncle, Ozzie and Hugh. I do not know how they are baring it. Uncle and Ozzie were quite tense with each other when I left, they did not speak of it but it was felt at every moment. They both depended on you so much. And poor Hugh to lose another mother. How will he feel this deeply? Oh my dearest aunt, I am sorry if we took advantage of your kindness, your love, and strength. If you can see us now, I hope you can see how desperately we need you. You were the cornerstone of our family. I do not know whats going to happen. 

I do wish my new mama would let me come to see them all but she claims that I would be a burden to them.  I hope I was never a burden to you. Mama also claims we have engagements that we are to keep, I do not know how I am to keep up appearances when my heart is so broken.

I will stay faithful to you and keep you updated on the events of my life. In that I feel I keep you with me. 

All my love.    

Dearest Aunt,

We buried you today. That feels odd to write. Unreal almost. The minister talked about your soul being in heaven and I do so hope you are at peace. 

The service was beautiful practically everyone in town attended.And my dear uncle stood as a rock not letting anyone see his heartbreak. You would have been embarrassed by the amount of tears Ozzie had for you, I think he feels your loss more than anyone.He told me you were always his biggest supporter and now he does not know how he will get on from one day to the next. I wanted to remind him of his wife and the support she will provide, but as I promised him and myself to never speak of it I did not feel right to mention it. The service was beautiful and I felt it truly reflected the beauty that is in your life. I hope you got to look down from heaven and see how much we down here love you. Hugh was so good to me and let me sit up front as if I was intimate family. Mama and Cassandra did not attend as Mama was called to The Towers this morning and Cassandra accompanied. I would have appreciated her company and have her meet Hugh, Ozzie and Uncle but I know when Mama puts her mind to something it is hard to dissuade her. 

Not much else to write, but I did want to copy down the poem Hugh read, he said it was your favorite. I think Hugh was the only one who could read a loud at the moment... 

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

I knew you liked Dickinson but I did not know that was your favorite. I will carry it with me from now on. 

All my love.  

 Poem citation 

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Too many stories in my head

Hello lovely readers,

This is a little venting... It is not a really problem but it is a problem in my writing world. I currently have two working stories. One is my major work in progress (or WIP as I have been informed) and the other is my postings of Molly's letters to her aunt in my "Yours faithfully" project which I am enjoining.

Then a couple of weeks my roommate told me about this "question of the week" her co-worker posts (sorry if I am getting the information wrong). The question was "If you could go back and live in anytime period, what would it be and what two celebrities would you take with you?" Both these questions were hard for me to answer, because of course it would be awesome to live in the Edwardian times (or at least what I imagine), but I am also drawn to living in Jane Austen's time but I think only if I knew for sure that I was going to meet Jane Austen. Though after reading after Confessions of Jane Austen Addict I am less inclined to do that. Right now my heart and mind are in Edwardian times so I think I would go back to that time.

Work in Progress: Hope Deferred
Work in Progress: Yours Faithfully

And now I have a new story in mind spurned from the question my roommate and I were discussing. I was thinking it would be about a girl who finds a journal from a hundred years ago only to discover it is was her journal and by the end of the book modern girl gets the choice to go back in time... but will she?

The cottage had clearly been abandoned with ivy entangling itself in the stone and covering the windows. It had been untouched for nearly fifty years and looked as though it came from of the Grimm's fairy tales with one expecting to see Hansel and Gretel running away from the witch at any moment. 

"Are you sure about this Caroline?" Janey questioned as she rested a box of my stuff on the roof of her car.
"Of course," faking more confidence than I actually felt.
"It looks like setting from a scary movie not where you can write your next novel." Janey Brick, my best friend from high school, really my only friend still from high school had gotten married right after college, had two kids right away, and lived a pretty cookie cutter life. For some reason she still hung out with me, who went to college on the six year plan floating between majors of Poly Sci, Psychology, took a year off to travel, and came back to major in Creative Writing with a minor in Women's Studies.
"It will be perfect, Janey. It is at the back of my Grandma's property, so I will be well fed and I will not have to work extra shifts at the Coffee Joe's or seek out employment at Charlie's-Ship-It store. I will just be able to write, work my usual shift at Coffee Joe's to pay off my student loans." I said it more to justify it in my own head. 
"Alright. You know Charlie's-Ship-It store is not all that bad."
"You're just saying that because your father-in-law owns it."
"I am and he has always treated you kindly."

I then profusely thanked Janey for how she and her family always looked out for me, but I told her I had to write. I had written one novel from my years in undergrad but it hardly sold more than a hundred copies, and my editor was going to drop me soon if I didn't have another piece. I had to write, it was the one thing I knew I was suppose to do, but it was hard to manage it between two jobs, paying rent, paying off loans, and still managing to buy groceries. So with all the certainty I could muster at the moment I reassured her I would be fine. 

I wouldn't have even thought of this cottage to hide out in, had it not been my mom's suggestions a couple of months back. Grandma Wallis' health had grown worse and worse over the last few months and mom was getting concerned about her well being. Grandma Wallis had lived on this farm since the day she was born and with no brothers or sisters to care for it, it was up to her to make sure it survived, and she would never leave it for the suburban lifestyle my mom had adapted to. I always looked up to Grandma Wallis  for how strong willed she was. A couple months back my mom and her sister were discussing bringing in a nurse to help her, but they knew she would never accept a stranger to take care of her. Everyone who worked on the farm had worked here for almost forty years and if they were no longer able to work their children would pitch in. So my mom asked me, since in her mind I was doing nothing with my life, if I would help out. I actually agreed to consider it once my lease was over on my current place. Though pitching the idea to Grandma Wallis was harder than I thought, she didn't like the idea of me thinking she was an invalid, so I rephrased the story of me being hard on my luck and just needing a place to squat for a bit as I got my life back on track. Being from the generation of the Depression Era, my grandma agreed to that easier and offered me the cottage at the back of her property. She insisted that we both keep our independence and I complied to her condition telling mom I would check up on her multiple times a day. That appeared to make both of them happy. 

"Are you sure there are no bugs or mice?" Janey asked.
"Positive, Joe came over here the other day to clean it out."
"Good an almost blind gardener was here, that makes me feel comfortable."
"I am sure he had his son with him," though I wasn't sure at all. "It can be no worse than my place I had on Kelsey St."
"You moved out of that place in a month," Janey was quick to remind me.
"I will be alright."

Now that Janey was a mom she was quick to mom me, which I never minded as I knew she was just looking out for me and as a friend wanted my best in life. But like any mother daughter relationship I had to show her I was self-sufficient.I was going to make this cottage work,  I was going to start and finish my novel here before long and then figure out the next step. That was my life always figuring out the next step. 
This is as far as I had gotten in thinking about it... I don't know where it will go from here, but I will keep you posted. I do like this of this story as I have always wanted to write a multi generational story (or a dual timeline story) so I think this would be intriguing. Right now though I think I have enough stories on my hand for my mind to work out. I have a very bad habit of writing one story and then when another idea comes I put my first story down and switch gears. So far all that has done has left me with notebooks of unfinished stories and I really do want to finish my WIP of "Hope Deferred."

I have to stay focused and continue on. That's all for now from this naive writer, will keep you posted on all my works in progress in my next "Writing Wednesday"

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Yours Faithfully... Letter #9

Letter #8
* Dearest Aunt Hen,

I am so sorry to be away from you especially now as father has told me you have relapsed again. I wish I could be beside you and be of some use. I hope one of your dear sons will read this letter to you faithfully and will provide you some comfort as I am gone from your side. My only comfort here is my newest sister Cassandra, she allows me to call her Cassie, which feels like a mark of true friendship. My new mama cringes though every time I say it as she thinks it is rather childish. Is it so very wicked that I feel a little bit of joy when I see her cringe? I believe Hugh would say it was, as he has encouraged me to look for the best in my mama. 

If Hugh reads this please know that I am trying... but it is so very hard when I feel she cuts me down at every turn. She considers me childish and she says I speak to much. I feel I hardly say a word at all in front of her however when she scorns me Cassandra always defends me. She has been so quick to be my defender. She is so beautiful with red golden hair that is always in its proper place and she has perfectly shaped olive green eye with very fine skin. I feel so plane when I stand next to her however she compliments me quite profusely on my intellect and tells me kindhearted I am and she will not let me return the compliment in any manner. She must be so truly humble. Please tell Hugh that I have let her borrow some of the books he lent me, and she finds them of quite sturdy material. I have found her company quite pleasant and the only thing that could truly relieve my mind is knowing you are well. 

In other news, Mrs. Chemsworth and Miss Helene came to call on us the day after Cassandra's return. Mama was surprised that they return the neighborhood so early when they usually don't come till summer and she was flattered by the idea that they would come and call on her directly. However, she later commented I took to many liberties with Miss Helene, but I felt I was just doing my duty by answering all her questions. She did ask after you, she is so good to remember you and our closeness. If you remember from my previous mention of her that after the wedding Miss Helene and I became fast friends, so I felt fine in discussing my worries for your health (I hope that is all right). I feel if Miss Helene spent more time in the neighborhood she and Cassandra could become my truest friends, though nothing will replace you and your son's friendship. 

I cannot what else to write. As once said "life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings." My mind and heart are with you always. 

Your faithful niece,

P.S.- Mama is sick of hearing about you and not knowing you personally so when you are well she extends an invitation for dinner. Though she fears our house will not compare to your grand estate. I hope you will recover quickly and come to us soon. All my love. 
Previous post about Miss Helene

*Forgive me readers, I am sorry if I didn't make it clear this letter writing activity is mostly free writing. I have been trying to re-tell the story of Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell, it is one of my favorites, but I have been intrigued by the epistle style of writing for some time so I am mostly trying to see if I can tell a whole story through letters. I am taking the premise of Wives and Daughters and bringing it to America at the turn of the twentieth century (read more here).

I do hope you enjoy.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Yours Faithfully... Letter #8

Hello lovely readers,
I hope by now you have read my last "Frivolous Friday" post... I say that because Roger Hamley is the model for Hugh in my story. I don't think Roger gets a lot of credit as a great literary hero so in some ways I would like to boost his profile.
Dearest Aunt,

I was faithful in burning my last letter. I may not be able to let you read this letter now as you would probably ask why I burned the last letter and to answer that I would betray the trust of both your sons.

Today you have opened your eyes and what it was relief it was to see you again though you didn't recognize me and called me Rosie. I was later informed by Hugh that Rosemary was your daughter that died when she was a toddler. Oh I am sorry perhaps I should not write that, as I do not wish to cause you pain. Hugh in all this has been the rock. I do not know what any of us would do without him. It is sometimes hard for me to remember he is your stepson and not your own son for he is so faithful to you and bringing about the peace you are so consistent in. I fear I will never love my new mama like Hugh loves you.  

Speaking of my mama, she writes that Cassandra is coming home sooner than she expected and she wants me to return home. I don't want to leave you but I do want to meet my new sister, she was so loving in her last letter I cannot imagine she won't be absolutely splendid in reality. My mama has said she was quite a beauty, and that Cassandra took after her in that regard. I would never say my mama was gorgeous but she is very genteel looking and seems very well portioned in her looks. 

Oh my dearest Aunt Hen, what shall I do without you even in these latest trials this home has been such a comfort to me. I do not know if my own home will ever be the same... with my mama there it hardly feels the place of solitude I once knew. How I fear her dictates have greatly changed the environment. She wrote me she has dismissed Miss Carter, Miss Carter was my care giver all my childhood, she knew me better than anyone. I relied on her when father was away into the night and she would always allow me into her bed when I was scared of thunderstorms. Of course it has been many years since I needed her in that capacity, but still it seems disloyal that she should be dismissed so suddenly, and I was not even there to say goodbye to her. 

 Sorry, I just returned from a walk in the garden with Hugh. He wanted me to accompany him while he picked some flowers for you as I knew your favorite flowers. When you were asleep we picked very fragrant flowers for you to smell... Hugh says that scent is the most powerful sense. He said that smell can trigger more memories than any other sensor. We picked you a lot of flowers with an array of colors for you to enjoy now that you are awake. He is always so knowledgeable he not only know every flower's English name but Latin name as well. He also is quite skilled in knowing about Entomology and whole bugs have never been a favorite subject of mine, he has away to describe things that make it interesting. He knows I enjoy ancient history and today he showed me a type of beetle that has been around since the Romans invaded. I couldn't believe it myself. How could someone know that. Right now he is with uncle looking at some plumbing works that uncle is implemented in the cottages for his workers. Uncle truly seems more alive in Hugh's presence, which is quite a relief since Uncle and Osborne have been quite distant. 

Perhaps it is not right to think it but I do wonder if Osborne's marriage could have anything to do with their distance. Frequently I catch them looking at each other and it appears they both want to say something but they can't. Something holds them back. I wish I could have your voice, you would bring some reconciliation between them. 

I am sorry to be leaving this house at such a moment, but as I am reminded it is a daughter's duty to follow her mama's request. I do not know why a new mama trumps a long time serviceable niece. If only you would speak and know my name I feel I could convince her I am needed here. As it is I must leave.

All my love,
 I know I just went on vacation and took a break from blogging but I am happy to say I am leaving again to visit my sister, some family, and meet my newest nephew. But have no fear I will not leave you without a "Frivolous Friday" post... so check back here on Friday 9AM (EST).
My newest nephew and now he is 2 months old

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

"Yours Faithfully"... letter #7

Hello Lovely Readers,

I know it has been a bit since I posted a letter in this series. My mind has been full of getting back to reality after vacation, being wrapped up in some emotional stuff (I am fine but some very close people to me are struggling and I am hurting for them), and trying to focus my energies on my other story in progress. But I do like this little project and want to keep it going.

For letter #6 click here.

Dearest Aunt,
My heart is aching... I think I will burn this letter as soon as I write it. Now I am desperate for your voice and guidance, and yet I know you cannot speak to me. If you could, I would not be able to tell you for I swore to both Hugh and Ozzie I would not say a word, and I will keep my word. However, my heart aches and I know that you will never read these words as I swear I will burn this letter as soon as I write it.

Ozzie is married. I know no other details than that. Only I imagine he must be ashamed of this marriage or why would he keep it secret... but I cannot think that Osborne would something that would bring such shame to the family, he has always proved himself to be such a good son, brother and cousin to myself. I can only assume that he meant to tell you about this marriage but with your health he did not want to add any more burden to your heart. Though I have not configured in my mind why his marriage would add a burden. Marriage is suppose to be a wonderful event and surely knowing that your son was so happy would bring comfort to you. 

However, like I said I know nothing of the details of her, the marriage, or anything only that it is to be a deep secret. 

I promise it was not my wish to add this secret to my life, I was in the library reading when Hugh came in announcing he had a letter for Osborne from his wife.

It feels so wrong to call Osborne, Ozzie, as I feel there is a great separation between us with his secret. I don't know if I can even look at him the same way I did through all our childhood. 

Anyway I was sitting in the library and Hugh came in and announced he had a letter from Osborne's wife. Hugh must have been in on the secret as it seemed the words were natural on his lips. Ozzie  Osborne then scowled that Hugh should have looked around before saying such things. That is when Hugh's eyes caught mine. I must have looked terrified because his face went white and then he stumbled over his words. 

I immediately got up in and left the library. I didn't know where to go but I knew I could not stay there any more. Half an hour or so later Hugh found me in the garden and tried to explain the details. I said I didn't want to know them as I knew I could keep any more secrets in me. He respected my wishes. 

The thing that hurts the most is feeling so separate now from you and my Uncle as I cannot tell you the truth. I also cannot talk to Hugh or Osborne about this either as I swore I would not mention it again and that separates us too. If it was not for you and the hopes you would wake soon keep me here, otherwise I would rather be home and in sweet innocence. Does that sound horribly selfish? I will be by your side till you awake, I promise and will not leave you. Please awake soon, I know seeing your smile again all will be well. 

Yours faithfully, 
Osborne and Mrs. Hamley from Wives and Daughters.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

Story time Saturday... "Yours Faithfully"

 Hello lovely readers,

I know I should be nothing but happy with my up coming vacation but I have fallen into a little funk. So I am taking time to do some escapism writing. This is my continuing re-working of Wives and Daughters, hope you enjoy.

The following is letter #6 to read past letters

Dearest Aunt,

I know you cannot hear me now. Oh I wish you were how anxious I am to tell you all my thoughts. Of course if you could hear me, I do not know if I would say a word. You being awake would be enough.  

Before I write another word I must tell you Ozzie is home. I know you so wanted to wanted to see him again. I hope when you wake, for I know you will wake up, he will be by your side. I know how much joy that will give you. He is just as handsome as I remember, he has such kind eyes that make me know he is a truly generous spirit. He has a fine gentle face with graceful features, and when he smiles he reminds me of you. Oh Aunt if only he didn't look so lonely as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. No matter what uncle says I know that Ozzie carries the great disappointment of failing this semester. He talks about leaving school all together and going to California. Surely there does not need to be a whole continent between him and uncle, no matter what trouble he is in. If only you were awake I know you would you would not let uncle speak such abuse to Ozzie. I do not blame you. 

The one bright light in this whole house is Hugh, your step-son. Hugh has played a vital role in going between Ozzie and uncle. Ozzie confides in him in everything and uncle enjoys taking long walks with him in the day and enjoying a pipe with him after night. I would never say this to you for I know how much you care for Ozzie, but Hugh truly seems to be the perfect son. He enjoys the countryside a great deal taking great detail in the plants, trees, and animals that roam it and yet he has a kindness towards man kind I have never seen. I am afraid on our first meeting I made a bad impression. Mama made me pack my dress and I wore it to dinner, upon entering the dinning room I could see it was quite a mistake to dress so ostentatiously. He must have thought me quite frivolous to dress in such a manner with your health being as such and then through the night I could not complete a sentence with stumbling over my words. I also could not remember any passages of books I had been reading to you that very day. I felt to be completely ignorant. 

Since then we have gotten to know each other, he said yesterday that I could read such knowledgeable books with out being bored; he has never met a girl who took such interest in history. I must say uncle's library is so well rounded in ancient history. I cannot help but devour the details of the Egyptian Empire. When uncle desires to sit with you, Hugh is good to take me on walks around the garden and point out the different flowers, I never had a thought of botany but with him speaking I feel it is more of a story than just scientific studies. He does not say it but I know he would miss you as much as Ozzie, as you have been his mother for all the life he can remember.

Oh aunt if you could hear me, I would want you to hear how much you are loved and how much we all need you here. 

Please do not leave us.

Yours faithfully,

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Story time Saturday... Letter #4, #5

For letter #3

Dearest Aunt, 
I fear this letter will cause you quite amount of pain. 

Uncle was here, which is why I called away at end of my last letter, and he begged me to come with him. Oh I would be at your side in a moment if my will was my own, but it is not. My mama says I will be able to come to you the Monday of next week and has given me leave for an extended visit. 

I am sorry I cannot be with you now.  

Dearest Aunt, 

I do not if I will have the courage to send you this letter but I feel I must write my thoughts down, for I fear if I don't get them out I will explode and mama will shame me with my feelings. 

I completely do not understand my new mama, she knows how important you are to me, how you have been a second mother to me in these years since my own mother past away, and yet she forbids me to come to you. At least for a time. She seems to think an engagement of a dinner party is far more important. Oh how I wanted to scream and throw a tantrum at that moment when she refused to let Uncle to take me. I feel she must have known I wanted to throw a tantrum for she gave me a look to say "you poor child." I despise that look. It makes me feel so small and as if my feelings and wants don't matter. Perhaps to her they don't matter. She has never cared for me--not really.

I am frequently reminded of the day, I went to The Towers, when I just six or seven, and how she let me sleep in her bed when I was over tired. I am reminded that she was willing to let me share her bed when all the towns people left me behind, and they thought father would not come for me until the following morning. She states that this was a mark of her kindness. I have never seen it as kindness. I feel she put me in her bed and forgot all about me, not remembering to collect me before the towns people left, and I have a vague memory of she sneaking the food Miss Helene brought up for me. No matter what I remember, my mama infuriates me when she tries to pass herself of as generous towards me. I know I should not write those words, oh Aunt if you read his letter, please burn it, for I know I am quite wicked in saying what I just said. I should not even think it. 

Dearest Aunt, it is you I worry most for. My mama is saying I have not been good company at these engagements we have had, I do not know how to be good company when my thoughts are plagued by you and your illness. The one comfort I have is reading Cassandra's letter, I cannot wait to truly call her my sister, but mama thinks she will not come till Easter. Till then I am on my own with my new mama. I will copy her words for you to read them (if I send this letter) for I feel they will give you as much as pleasure to you as they have to me:

My dearest Molly,

I am sorry if my wording is a little too bold for I have never had a sister, and I do not know how to write a sister I have yet met. Perhaps I should write, "Dear Miss Gibson" but that sounds too formal after all we are related now.

I wish I had been able to attend our parent wedding, mostly to meet you. My mother writes that you are a kind girl, full of knowledge on various topics, and not afraid to express your opinions. She writes the last part as a fault, but I rather enjoy a girl who expresses her thoughts. I would not be able to call you a true sister of mine if you were not opinionated. And a true sister you will be. I feel bound to you already.

Please have a snap shot taken of yourself so I may have a photograph to picture you, while I wait and dream of meeting you. 

Oh my, I feel my words are a little true strong to be good. I would not have you thinking I am too overly sentimental, I might be a bit, but as I said I have never had a sister and you being my sister now makes me spill over with emotions. I have been on my own too long I fear and I have been left only to imagine sentiments. I promise when we meet I will be quite good with my feelings and the words I use to express them. 


See my dearest aunt she is so kind, she is truly kind and warm, an apparent opposite from her own mama. I believe we will be true sisters and friends. Besides you, I long to see her most frevently. 

I feel I will improve my vocabulary as she has been educated in some of the best schools for young ladies. 

All my love, 

PS- I heard talk Ozzie is to be home soon, I hope that relieves your heart, I know your son was too good not to come home. 

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Story time Saturday- Letter #3

Dearest Aunt, 

I have barely had a moment to call my own since father's wedding. I apologize it has taken me this long to respond to your last letter. You are so good to think of me in your weakened state. I know you will be my confidant in all matters as you only have my best interest at heart. 

I am trying to do my best to look for the best in my new mother and so far all I can say is she is very refined. She has quite a structure to her life I worry that I will not be able to fit into. Usually father is gone making calls before the rest of the house is awake and she takes breakfast in bed, she says it is the way of married ladies, and while this time should be my own she frequently calls me to sit and talk to her. She says I have a soothing voice, however she does not share any of her breakfast with me and when she is changing I find a moment to sneak a bite or two. Then she receives calls in the afternoon, she has yet to make any calls as she states, that she is a new bride and the people should call on her. I feel she does not find Hollingbrooke desirable for she frequently complains about the lack of intelligent conversation. She also laughs at how people people put on airs when discussing the family at The Towers.

She definitely feels an intimacy towards them, I guess being a governess for them all those years ago and being the Mrs. Chemsworth's  special guest makes her feel such ways. Though I hardly understand what she did except to be at Mrs. Chemworth's beck-and-call when the Lady was in the area. Although she must have a been a good companion as both Mr.and Mrs. Chemsworth were at the wedding and their daughter Miss Helene was a bride's maid with me. After the ceremony Miss Helene and I became fast friends though she five years old than me,and she is far wealthier than I could imagine. She sometimes teases about the people of Hollingbrooke, over all she is very kind. She promised as soon as my new mother was settled she would call on both of us. "Mama", as father is trying to get me to say, does not like when I talk about Lady Helene, she thinks I am presumptuous, but I can tell you about her and how I think she is going to be true to her word and call on us. 

Sorry my dearest aunt, a few days have passed, since I wrote the last part. Oh I wish I had a moment to call my own. Mama has had frequent visitors and we have been called to attend dinner at neighbors homes. Mama thinks it is due to her providence of freshness in the town, but I think it is a greater compliment to father. Everyone in Hollingbrooke knows he is best doctor in the county and he is so favored by many families. While the invitations are for mama and father, father is more frequently than not able to attend and I must serve as a substitute. I don't mind much but I do so hate to hear her criticize our always generous host and hostess on the return trip. I am going to own it to the fact she is far more refined than any of us.

Father, told me my new mama had a daughter named Cassandra, about my age, she was suppose to come to the wedding but was unable to make it. I wish she had come she might have softened her mother up. I do not remember my own mother, but I know the way you speak about Ozzie and what a joy he is to you, I feel certain it would have been the same for Mama. However, today I received a letter from her. Mama didn't think it was right that she write exclusively to me but she is so kind in her letter I think if words can prove a person's character I will love Cassandra forever. 

Have to go mama is insisting I come to the drawing room.
Yours faithfully,

I honestly don't know where this letter writing is going to go but I find it interesting in trying to reconstruct the story of Wives and Daughters by letter writing. If you know the story I have changed a few character names and the town names. Though I love Molly Gibson and the way she is portrayed in both book and film, it is not how I see my Molly, at least not in looks. I want to keep the characteristics the same but I might modify the description (if this continues on). I hope you enjoy these letters and if you have not read the original source please do. 

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Free Writing Wednesday

In my last post I wrote I had the desire to retell the story of Wives and Daughters, I sat down to do a little free write and this is what came out. In Wives and Daughters, Molly is sent off to visit Mrs. Hamley as her father, Dr. Gibson, has learned one of his pupils is an admirer of his daughter. Like most dads he freaks out over his little girl, who is seventeen, having a suitor, so he sends her away. In that time she is away Dr. Gibson convinces himself he needs to get a new wife and new mother for Molly to protect her from men. This is kind of the telling of that.
Not a screen shot from Wives and Daughters

Dear Aunt Hen,

I hope you do not mind that silly nick name as you know it has quite stuck since my childhood days when I could not say Henrietta. 

I write to thank you for the wonderful time I had with you and uncle at your home. It was so generous for you to take me in for the entire summer especially since I know you were quite distracted with all the anxiety of my cousin Ozzie's time at Harvard. I am sure he will do quite well and will come home as soon as his time with his friends in New Port is over. Please keep posted on any updates. How I long to hear from you. I wish I was there for I could write your letters for you as I know you have been so very distressed in not in the mood to write.

I do so miss you and the walks in the gardens and even picking flowers for you, I know they always cheered you up. I made uncle swear he would pick flowers for you in my absence, but you know men can never be left to do a woman's work. I miss sitting by your window and letting the summer breeze brush over us.  Oh dear just thinking about it brings tears too my eyes, but I am an easier crier as you know. 

Things are just not the same at home, since I left. Father had a pupil, who was preparing to go to medical school and he is now gone. I can't say Mr. Cox was a great conversationalist but he was pleasant and his wild red hair was quite an amusement. Now without him the house seems almost empty. But I keep busy, preparing the house for my new step-mother who is to come. I know her so little and yet I feel at odds with her already. Oh please do not tell that to anyone for I would hate someone to think I was uncaring. I do so try to do as you say and look for the good in others but it is rather hard sometimes. All I feel is a great separation between father and myself growing everyday. I guess that is what happens when a man is about to get married, a new woman has replaced me in his eyes and in his love for me. 

I shall not write more I fear I have said to said too much. Forgive me Aunt Ham for my wicked thoughts. Please know I had an amazing time with you and uncle and I hope it can be repeated over and over. 

All my love, 

Dearest Molly,

Do not hold back any emotions on my account. Your happiness is my happiness, your sadness is my sadness. I did say to try to find the best in people but I do understand it is hard when you feel so uneasy with the situation. I am sure your father has found a good woman to be your new mother, he is such a good sound man and he would never think of a woman in such a way unless she was completely honorable. But I do know how grieved you were over the suddenness of this all and I cannot blame you for that. Do try to remember your own father's happiness though and how saddened he will be if he thinks you do not like his wife-to-be. No matter what please write to me and tell me all your heartache, sorrows, and happiness I will forever be your confidant. 

You are so kind, dear Molly, to ask after Ozzie, I do so hope his frivolity in New Port will end quickly. I do not wish to sound selfish but so much of my comfort relies on him, especially now that you are gone. Yes, while Arthur tries his hands at picking flowers, for my sake, he is not so nearly as clever at it as you were are. Oh Molly come back whenever you desire, I will keep your room just the way it was when you left. It can always be your oasis.

I am sorry I cannot write anymore I feel so weak, must rest.

Yours truly,
Aunt Hen

 I am sure this phase will pass and you will be ever first in your father's heart.