Excerpt from my current reading

After I finished off the latest Dickens tome, I wanted something fun and quick to read, so I picked up Strong Poison off my bookshelf and dived in. I've been reading with a perpetual smile plastered on my face because I love Dorothy Sayers's writing style so much! Here's a passage that had me cracking up:

[Lord Peter Wimsey has gone to a Bohemian party with his friend, Marjorie, in order to do some sleuthing. The room is small, hot, dark, and crowded, and a bushy-haired man is "playing something of a Czecho-Slovakian flavor" on the piano. Lord Peter gets pulled into a conversation with some of the party-goers...]

'...What do you think of Stanislas' tone-poem?' [said the cadaverous man.] 'Strong, modern, eh? The soul of rebellion in the crowd -- the clash, the revolt at the heart of the machinery. It gives the bourgeois something to think of, oh, yes!'

'Bah!' said a voice in Wimsey's ear, as the cadaverous man turned away, 'it is nothing. Bourgeois music. Programme music. Pretty! -- you should hear Vrilovitch's 'Ecstasy on the letter Z.' That is pure vibration with no antiquated pattern in it. Stanislas -- he thinks much of himself, but it is old as the hills -- you can sense the resolution at the back of all his discords. Mere harmony in camouflage. Nothing in it. But he takes them all in because he has red hair and reveals his bony structure.'

The speaker certainly did not err along these lines, for he was as bald and round as a billiard-ball. Wimsey replied soothingly:

'Well, what can you do with the wretched and antiquated instruments of our orchestra? A diatonic scale, bah! Thirteen miserable, bourgeois semi-tones, pooh! To express the infinite complexity of modern emotion, you need a scale of thirty-two notes to the octave.'

'But why cling to the octave?' said the fat man. 'Till you can cast away the octave and its sentimental associations, you walk in fetters of convention.'

'That's the spirit!' said Wimsey. 'I would dispense with all definite notes. After all, the cat does not need them for his midnight melodies, powerful and expressive as they are. The love-hunger of the stallion takes no account of octave or interval in giving forth the cry of passion. It is only man, trammelled by a stultifying convention -- Oh, hullo, Marjorie, sorry -- what is it?'"

--from Strong Poison by Dorothy L. Sayers, published 1930

'70s skirt

Remember that herringbone wool from my fabric stash? It's been converted into a retro '70s skirt. (Admittedly not my favorite fashion decade, but it was the height of my mom's sewing-for-herself stage, so we've got quite a few 1970s women's patterns tucked away in the basement... and some of them are cute!!)

For pictures, please visit my sewing gallery.

Surplus of basil

While we were on vacation, our herb garden grew like mad. Now we've got fresh basil coming out of our ears! Mom and I were using basil in almost every meal, until Dad said, "I hope there are lots of anti-oxidants in basil since we've been eating so much of it!" We eased up after that. :)

Anyway, here's a tasty recipe from Chips, Dips, and Salsa which uses up lots of basil:

Basil Avocado Chutney

• 2 cups packed basil leaves
  
• 1/3 cup blanched almonds
  
• 1 clove garlic, peeled
  
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  
• 1 avocado, peeled and diced
  
• salt to taste

In a food processor, combine basil, almonds, garlic, and lemon juice. Pulse motor once or twice until the almonds are finely ground. Add the avocado and salt. Combine well. Refrigerate any leftovers. Colors will darken with storage, but taste is still superlative. Makes about 1-1/2 cups.

The one that got away

I sometimes see a gorgeous pattern on eBay that I love, but I refrain from buying it because I know I'd lack the time to make it or the opportunity to wear it. This was one such pattern. I'm now feeling rather remorseful over the fact -- especially since it's in my size. Please, if any of you sewing mavens see another one of these floating around on the Internet, let me know about it!

New shirt

Guess what? I made a T-shirt! And it was surprisingly easy!

One of my old J. Crew shirts bit the dust, so I ripped it apart and used it as a pattern to make a new shirt. The fabric was a ribbed knit left over from my Christmas skirt in 1997. I had just enough to squeeze out this shirt! I was intimidated by working with a stretchy fabric, but it was a breeze. I'll definitely try it again, next time with a bateau neckline!

Peonies

Kneel for grace

About a year ago, I purchased a vintage 1938 dress-making book at an antique store here in town. While flipping through, I was delighted to find that there are not only sections detailing various sewing techniques, but an entire chapter of the book is devoted to "Your Physical Self: Poise, Posture, Charm."


The book has all sorts of illustrations suggesting how you can do everyday things in a graceful manner. One caption says, "From the time you get up until you go to bed, make every gesture aid you in gaining body grace. Be glad of the opportunity that housework gives for exercise."

How often do we even think of our posture these days? And yet it can make such a difference between appearing graceful and elegant, or awkward and slouchy. So, to both ladies and gentlemen -- shoulders back and head up today! :)

Blue bathroom #2

(See this older post for another peak at my recently redecorated bathroom.)

New music

Yesterday noon, Dad and I ordered some new music CDs from Amazon, which we are looking forward to receiving in the mail!

Your Favorite Hymns by the Liverpool Cathedral Choir. (This link will take you to a page on Amazon with sample music clips, but rest assured we did not pay anywhere close to $81 for our copy of this CD.) Some of my personal favorites are Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer, Jerusalem, and For All the Saints.

Early One Morning by Edward Higginbottom and the Oxford Choir of New College. This recording first came to my attention through the lovely website, Lanier's Books. I've long wanted a recording of the folk lyrics to 'Greensleeves,' instead of the Christmas-y ones. :)

Watercolors: a rose

Victorian coinage in Britain

If, like me, you enjoy reading pre-WWII British literature, you may have come across financial terms that have puzzled you. For example, can you tell me...

1. How many pence in a shilling?
2. How many shillings in a pound?
3. What is a bob?
4. What is the difference between a guinea, a pound, and a sovereign?
5. How many shillings in a crown?
6. How many shillings in a half-crown?
7. What is a farthing worth?

If you are confounded by these questions, I recommend this web page on Victorian coinage, which I found a few years ago while searching for clarification on the pre-decimalized currency of England. The author gives a thorough explanation to all of the questions above. (One ommission is the definition of a quid, but I will tell you here and now that it's a slang term for a pound.) This article might require several re-reads if you are mathematically challenged like me, but in the long run it will afford you more understanding of old British lit.

Thrifted skirt

Excerpt from my current reading

[Nicholas Nickleby has become assistant at an abusive boys' school under the headship of Mr. Wackford Squeers, whose daughter takes an interest in Nicholas...]

"...And so Miss Squeers made up her mind that she would take a personal observation of Nicholas the very next day.

In pursuance of this design, the young lady watched the opportunity of her mother being engaged and her father absent, and went accidentally into the schoolroom to get a pen mended; where, seeing nobody but Nicholas presiding over the boys, she blushed very deeply, and exhibited great confusion.

'I beg your pardon,' faltered Miss Squeers; 'I thought my father was -- or might be -- dear me, how very awkward!'

'Mr. Squeers is out,' said Nicholas, by no means overcome by the apparition, unexpected though it was.

'Do you know will he be long, sir?' asked Miss Squeers, with bashful hesitation.

'He said about an hour,' replied Nicholas -- politely, of course, but without any indication of being stricken to the heart by Miss Squeers's charms.

'I never knew anything happen so cross,' exclaimed the young lady. 'Thank you! I am very sorry I intruded, I am sure. If I hadn't thought my father was here, I wouldn't upon any account have -- it is very provoking -- must look so very strange,' murmured Miss Squeers, blushing once more, and glancing from the pen in her hand to Nicholas at his desk, and back again.

'If that is all you want,' said Nicholas, pointing to the pen and smiling, in spite of himself, at the affected embarrassment of the schoolmaster's daughter, 'perhaps I can supply his place.'

Miss Squeers glanced at the door, as if dubious of the propriety of advancing any nearer to an utter stranger; then round the schoolroom, as though in some measure reassured by the presence of forty boys; and finally sidled up to Nicholas and delivered the pen into his hand, with a most winning mixture of reserve and condescension.

'Shall it be a hard or soft nib?' inquired Nicholas, smiling to prevent himself from laughing outright.

'He has a beautiful smile,' thought Miss Squeers.

'Which did you say?' asked Nicholas.

'Dear me, I was thinking of something else for the moment, I declare,' replied Miss Squeers. 'Oh, as soft as possible, if you please.' With which words Miss Squeers sighed. It might be to give Nicholas to understand that her heart was soft, and that the pen was wanted to match.

Upon these instructions, Nicholas made the pen. When he gave it to Miss Squeers, Miss Squeers dropped it; and when he stooped to pick it up, Miss Squeers stooped also, and they knocked their heads together; whereat five-and-twenty little boys laughed aloud, being positively for the first and only time that half-year.

'Very awkward of me,' said Nicholas, opening the door for the young lady's retreat.

'Not at all, sir,' replied Miss Squeers; 'it was my fault. It was all my foolish -- a --a -- good morning!'

'Good-bye,' said Nicholas. 'The next I make for you I hope will be made less clumsily. Take care! You are biting the nib off now.'

'Really,' said Miss Squeers; 'so embarrassing that I scarcely know what I -- very sorry to give you so much trouble.'

'Not the least trouble in the world,' replied Nicholas, closing the schoolroom door.

'I never saw such legs in the whole course of my life!' said Miss Squeers, as she walked away."

--Nicholas Nickleby by Charles Dickens, originally published 1838-39

Creation Museum

Today we visited the new Creation Museum in Petersburg, KY. We drove about two hours to get there and arrived a little after noon. It was packed! (Praise God!) The throngs of people slowed us down sufficiently that we didn't get to take in the entire museum (and we didn't even walk through the grounds, either). I'm happy to report that it is a very well-done and professional-looking museum with many interesting exhibits and beautiful displays. It's well worth your time if you're in the Cincinnati area! (But try to go during an off-time, if there is such a thing!)



Dad saves Uncle Doug from the ferocity of a T-Rex.



I caught and tamed this li'l dino myself. :)



The museum's model of what Noah's Ark may have looked like -- the jutting obstruction on the bow may have been used to catch the wind and keep the ship perpendicular to the waves.

My dad is a creation scientist, so most of what is featured in the museum was not new to me, but nevertheless I thoroughly enjoyed visiting such a well-done museum that glorifies God's creation.

Family gatherings

The Scene: Mom, Dad, Aunt Joanna, and I sitting on the couch watching my 14- and 15-year-old male cousins (whose parents were not in the room) trying to set their leg hairs (attached to their legs) on fire with a lighter.

Aunt Joanna: (desperately trying to change the activity du jour) Anyone for a game of Rummikub?

:)