From a Hopeful Romantic

This weekend I watched my younger sister marry the first man she ever loved. (I say that in past tense because it is grammatically correct but its not really past tense as she continues to love her new husband.) It was kind of like watching the end of the fairy tale but only to know their life will go on and they will spend the rest of their lives together. Which is great because in movies the movies you only see the couple till they get together and then its over, you never see beyond that. In life the love story continues. I have also been given the chance to watch many love stories unfold from my friend to family. Their marriages may not be the fairy tales people imagine but from an outsiders perspective it has been cool to watch the way love grows.

I guess I have always been a hopeful romantic, I believe love will always win and that it is worth fighting for. I guess that why I own 60 plus movies and most of them have a love story and why I subscribed to Bride magazine when I was in high school and sometimes buy them when I am in a book store.Its probably why I watched/read anything I could because I am a hopeful romantic. Its probably also why that if you read my story you will discover that it is a love story. I want a story book love but I also know a love that will last will be a love that is sacrificial and not a feeling but a choice every day (and it may not always be easy). It will be the type of love that is talked about in 1 Corinthians 13.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.(The Message)

You might this is just a girl sighing over a lovey dovey stuff but its not... this a girl wishing for this type of love. A love that would last a life time. So I will continue to cry when I see people get married and I will continue to tear up over love stories. And I thank all my friends and family who through their relationships have shown me more and more what I want.


P.S- I hope since I am not using names its okay for me to use your pictures but if its not please let me know

Amazed

Okay guys I am just amazed by the amount of blogging that happens about fashion history particulary about the 18th century and early 19th century. It seems to range from looking at life in these time periods or actually trying to make clothes from these time periods. I have tried following a lot of them but it is becoming so much and I know there are still uncharted waters. I am not going to follow blogs that talk about how to make fashion, mostly because my interest is in studying how fashion reflected the people's lives.

On the left hand side you can see a lot of the blogs I follow that cover Jane Austen, Gossip in 18th Century, writing blogs and other blogs on fashion. I have also found blogs on gardening, folk art, Christian living, things about London, movies, book reviews.Once again I am amazed about the wide range of blogs and basically if you have an interest there is probably a blog out there for you. And if not make one!

Some of the blogs I love to follow...
Jane Austen Today
http://janitesonthejames.blogspot.com/

by the same author Jane Austen's World
http://janeaustensworld.wordpress.com/

The Duchess of Devonshire Gossip Guide
http://georgianaduchessofdevonshire.blogspot.com/

Two Nerdy History Girls
http://twonerdyhistorygirls.blogspot.com/

Living on Literary Lane
http://lizzyslovelylibrary.blogspot.com/

Enchanted Serenity of Period Films
http://enchantedserenityperiodfilms.blogspot.com/

Some of these blogs have been essential in helping me set up the tabs on the top.

My hints on finding blogs google (you don't have to use google) search a term you are interested in for example "writing blogs" the find one that looks interesting. Most Blogs list what blogs they follow, look at them to find more blogs on things you like. I have even found a blog on NASCAR through doing this and there are lots of blogs on being a mom. I like doing all this when I am on my coffee breaks or just need a mental break from work and I will admit some times its hard not getting sucked into the virtual world.

Well I hope you enjoy the vast world of blogging.

Continuation of the Story

This is the continuation of the story that started on May 24th, 2011 "My story begins" (link). Read below...

“I am sorry friend my mother wants you gone.”
“Why?”
“She sees you as a threat?”
Jefferson chuckled “A threat to what?”

“My mother wants Fiona to marry a rich man, some one who can keep her in a fine house and a luxurious life style.”
“I am going to be a lawyer.”
“I know but,” Charles didn’t have anything else to say. “My mother does not make sense but she wants you gone and I have to be the one to tell you. She sees you as threat and that’s all I know.”

After that Fiona didn’t see Jefferson all night not even a glimpse of him in the gatherings. But the next morning when she woke up she found a note under her door.

My dear Fiona,

Perhaps you think I shouldn’t address you so informally after all we have only just met so I do apologize in my forwardness. I know your family does not want me to see you ever again as they fear I will mess up the plans they have for you. But I say one must follow their heart no matter where it might lead. I hope your heart leads you to me as my heart has lead me to you. Once again I apologize for my forwardness, I just never know when I will see you again and if I don’t I must tell you how all that I feel. Dearest Fiona I hope you listen to your heart and follow it truly.

Yours always,

Jefferson Cromwell

After that Fiona and Jefferson wrote for months on end through her brother and even agreed to marry through letters. When Cornelia got wind of this she had Aurhur threaten to remove Charles inheritance if he helped anymore. Then after Charles’ marriage to perfection itself, Isabelle Cummings, Cornelia saw Fiona and Jefferson’s love still blooming she decided that she would take Fiona to Europe in hopes that would break up the couple but Fiona spent almost two years but that didn’t stop the couple and one night while Fiona and Cornelia were in Paris she ran away with Jefferson and they got married in London. Apparently Jefferson had tracked them down and persuaded Fiona to marry him and now. He thought once they were married the Danfords would accept him but as soon as the news got to Aurthur of his only daughter’s elopement he wrote her out of the will providing nothing for her or any children she might have. She was now penniless.


Jefferson was convinced they would be fine. He was an up and coming lawyer in the Stone and Calvin Law Firm the second biggest law firm in Boston. But then a year after they had their second daughter Emmy, Jefferson’s father got terribly ill and Jefferson thought it was only right to run the families publishing firm. Unfortunately at that time Jefferson took control over the company it was already sinking and it sunk further still during Jefferson’s reign. Eventually the family had to move from their small brown stone in the Back Bay to the apartment above the publishing shop. One of the main reason’s they stayed a float as long as they did was that Fiona was secretly borrowed money from her friend Iris who in a twist of fate ended up happily married to Alfred Dumont. But after Jefferson died from a slow painful disease that the whole town learned of the Danford’s horrible debts. Fiona had to sell most of their possessions from Jefferson’s large book and record collection to some of her jewels she had run away with when they got married and even some of their girls dresses and dolls. She had allowed them to keep some of their favorite things, Laurel kept a dress, Emmy two books her father had read to them every night and Gloria kept a doll she never let go of. Once every thing was sold and most of Jefferson’s debt paid Fiona packed her girls and their few belongings and made their way back to her mother’s house.

Though Fiona wrote to her mother it was obvious she wasn’t well received. No motor car or carriage came to pick them up at the Pittsfield train station. Fiona had to pay a man with a cart to drive them to the outskirts of Pine Haven where he had a farm and from there she and her girls would have to walk. Half way to Pine Haven it began to rain and with each passing minute the girls got more and more drenched. The farmer’s wife recognized Fiona persuaded them to have a cup of tea but the girls were still wet and chilled when they left the farmer’s house. But not until Fiona saw Miss Pembers’ utter shock had she realized how little her and her girls would be received in her own home. Fiona was almost going to turn back and return to Boston but these were her girls. She need them raised in a warm home not a gutter and she need them to have a good education not just a job in a factory. These were her daughters and no matter what cruelties her mother would throw at her she was going to deal with it to make sure her daughters had the best life possible.

Miss Pembers could hide the girls arrival for a few days as Cornelia health was failing and she spent days in bed. But when Cornelia learned the girls were living in her house she was surprisingly calm. She admitted the Danford lineage could not be shamed by this and that she would take the Cromwell girls in and make sure they got the best that Pine Haven offered. But no extra money could be spared for their dowry when that time came and therefore the girls were still piratically penniless minus fine clothes they received from their Grandmother and a fine education they received from Pine Haven’s school.

Eight years had passed from that time. Laurel the oldest was now eighteen and was by far the prettiest. She had perfect golden auburn hair like her mother and like her mother had sparkling deep green eyes. But her mannerisms were quite plain, she kept mostly to herself and she kept her looks modest. With all her simplicity and gentle manner every one in town found her pleasing. The middle daughter Emmaline was such tom boy every one called her Emmy. She was nearly sixteen and still stuck in her awkward teen years waiting for the day she would bloom like a Lilly. But that day had not come and she felt herself questioning every move she made. Her mother though saw some of the charms Jefferson possessed in Emmy. They both had a soft heart and a deep passion for life. Had Emmy known the tender spot her mother had for she might not have looked so poorly upon herself. As she held a strong belief that she was plain. She looked at her almond blond hair and saw it was common and her hazel eyes that had a soft blue sparkle to them as generic. She thought her skin was too pale
and hated the countless freckles on it. But a romantic she compared herself to Guinevere, Juliet or even Miss Elizabeth Bennett none of which were described as having plain looks and lots of freckles. She longed to look like Laurel who seemed absolutely perfect both in look and action. Laurel was never scolded for speaking out of turn or day dreaming. Laurel wouldn't dare get a rip in her dress by climbing trees or getting her petticoats muddy because she wadded in the river. No Laurel did nothing wrong. But then again Emmy thought if she did nothing wrong she wouldn’t have any of her adventures and dull life would be then. It was her adventures that kept her going when she could not spend all day cooped up inside doing needle point or carelessly playing the piano. And it was in the woods that surrounded the garden, the woods that her grandfather had once loved that she found the most life in.



For more click here

Another One for my Grandma

After my last post, my Grandma passed away on Friday June 3rd. A lot of people have said they are sorry for my loss. I know my Grandma is in heaven so I am not sad about losing her because she is no longer in pain and she now is with the Lord forever. I am sorry that I didn't know her better. She was such a wonderful woman full of love.

We buried my Grandma Wednesday June 8th and that day I bought a bracelet with a heart on it to remind me of the love my Grandma had for me, their family and the Lord. This is true for all my Grandmas (Nana, Mema, Grandma) who have left this earth to be with their heavenly father. I hope one day to be as loving, thoughtful, generous, merciful, and graceful as all these women were. Their hearts were always open and that is what I would like to one day be said about me.

Below is a song my cousins sang at her funeral and it made me cry with how beautiful the song is and how beautifully true it is for my Grandma.

Dancing with the Angels.
by Monk & Neagle

Memories surround me
But sadness has found me
I'd do anything for more time
Never before has someone meant more
And I can't get you out of my mind

There is so much that I don't understand
But I know...

You're dancing with the angels
Walking in new life
You're dancing with the angels
Heaven fills your eyes
Now that you're dancing with the angels

You had love for your family
Love for all people
Love for the Father, and Son
Your heart will be heard
In your unspoken words
Through generations to come

There is so much that I don't understand
But I know

You're dancing with the angels
Walking in new life
You're dancing with the angels
Heaven fills your eyes
Now that you're dancing with the angels

We're only here for such a short time
So I'm gonna' stand up, shout out,
And sing Hallelujah
One day I'll see you again

You're dancing with the angels
Walking in new life
You're dancing with the angels
Heaven fills your eyes
Now that you're dancing with the angels

I know this blog is suppose to be about the stories I am writting (and some of it will be) but I also wanted to keep you informed of my life. I know my family is all over the country and while reading a blog is not so personal as seeing all of you I wanted to share not only my fictional writing but also the writings of my own life.

Hope you enjoy.

Thinking about Grandma

This not really following my story...

I am sitting at my desk not really thinking about work because half way across the countrymy Grandma is laying in her nursing home bed and waiting for the Lord to take her up to heaven. She has been sick for awhile and the doctors have told us any time now. Today my dad called me saying the doctors have told them it will probably be today then he texted me an hour later saying there was slight improvement but I am not really sure what that means. I wish I was in Wichita, KS with her and with my family instead of in Boston feeling somewhat a lone in all this as I wait anxiously for my phone to ring. I really want to get on the next flight out of Boston and be with everyone but then again I think, I have a slight pile of paper work to do at my job and if I went to Kansas being there wouldn't magically slove anything. My Grandma is 89 years old and wants to be in heaven with the Lord and with her husband, my Granddad who passed away in October. So I am now doing the logical thing and trying to live a normal life while my heart and brain are in Kansas.

My Grandma was born in 1922, she lived through the dust bowl on a farm outside of Liberal, KS under the dark brown spot on the map in Eastern Kansas. She lived through the depression and World War II. She married her college sweet heart, my Granddad, and they were married for 67 years and in those 67 years she was a devoted wife and mother raising 3 sons and 1 daughter. She is also a devoted Grandma having fourteen grandchildren and twelve great grand children all of who felt her warm and tender heart. I know when we arrived at her house I always looked forward to getting my kiss on the cheek when I came through the door. To me she will always be one of the most perfect women on the face of the earth.

As a future archivist and a want to be author. I love that she has kept all her journals and notebooks from when she was younger. She also has kept all her family and our family's photo albums neatly organized. I would love to one day be able to explore her world a little bit more. I sit here and think about all she has seen in her life time. From only a few people having telephones to every one having cell phone. From no computers to computers being as small as a notebook binder (if not smaller). Thinking of all the history that has taken place in her life time The Great Depression, WWII, The Civil Rights movement, going to outer space, the Cold War, the Berlin Wall falling, 9/11 and everything I have missed. She may not be famous outside of her family and friends but she has experienced a lot.

As a want to be writer my imagination is trying to imagine what her life must have been like. For some reason it keeps going to this image of a young women standing in 194os style dress. Looking at google image the dresses seem to be like our modern day blouse dresses. And I know the picture on the right is not my Grandma and its a modern day picture it caputers the essence of what I am thinking.


I see a woman standing in a field of sunflowers, in a plain style dress her hair has been stylishly pulled up but has come lose from her hard days work. She stands with a letter from the love of her life with only the gentel summer breeze to comfort her. And then she hears her mother's dinner call in the distance and as she wipes the tears away she tries to breathe so no one notices her pain.


I don't think that ever happened to my Grandmother but some how I come back to this image in my head. I guess since I am reading a book about WWII my mind is more intrigued to think about this time period. But from a historical point of view and from my Grandma's point of view I know little about this time frame so my mind is just left with this image. Maybe one day I can come back to this woman in my mind and explore her world.

Thank you for reading my little tangent. I have actually found calmness in imagining what my Grandma's world would be like and then letting my imagination run down its own little path