Words of Wisdom from Writers

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.

~E.L. Doctorow

Fragile Winter Beauty

For the past six or seven weeks I have been meaning to bring my camera to church -- there is one tree in the courtyard that started flowering as soon as the weather turned chilly. It was covered in delicate, snowy blossoms tinged with pink, a spectacular display of beauty in a season traditionally brown (for those of us who live in regions barren of snow). Each week I would forget, and then assume that the flowers would be gone the next week. But each time I returned, the tree was still in flower. Yesterday I finally remembered my camera and, to my delight, the tree still retained many of its blossoms.









I hope its winter-time beauty blesses you as much as it blessed me!

I Will Praise My God, While I Live

My soul, praise thou the Lord: O Lord my God, Thou art exceeding great, Thou art clothed with glory and honor.
Which covereth Himself with light, as with a garment, and spreadeth the heavens like a curtain.
Which layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds His chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Which maketh the spirits His messengers, and a flaming fire His minsters.
He set the earth upon her foundations, so that it shall never move.
Thou coverest it with the deep as with a garment: the waters would stand above the mountains.
O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! In wisdom hast Thou made them all: the earth is full of Thy riches.
So is the sea great and wide: for therein are things creeping unnumerable, both small beasts and great.
Glory be to the Lord forever: let the Lord rejoice in His works.
I will sing unto the Lord all my life: I will praise my God, while I live.

~ Selections from Psalm 104

Lost Arts

While I love every aspect of antiquarian books, I particularly enjoy the inscriptions that I often find on the inside covers. A little boy's list of Christmas gifts; endearments from a grandparent at Christmas time; a tender dedication from a close friend -- each of these are a glimpse into the lives of the people who once owned and loved the books that are now in my possession.



But personal attachment is not the only attraction. This inscription, in the cover of a volume of John Ruskin, has no sentimental value. But for me, the beauty of the penmanship is worthy of display. The delicate, sinuous curves of the pen are not perfect -- the inscription is little more than a hastily-written note -- but they show that the writer took great care in learning penmanship.



All inscriptions in antiquarian books take us back to years long passed away, when people took pride in their penmanship and used it an avenue of creativity. Of all of the arts that have been lost, penmanship is probably the least valued and the least mourned. Perhaps it is time for a revival of a fine art that beautifies every-day things, and turns the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Waiting for Prince Charming

As I read Elizabeth Gaskell's poignant and personal biography of Charlotte Bronte, I came to a letter written by Charlotte that I found both amusing and curious. She was writing to a friend concerning one of the male characters in her book, The Professor:

"I had a letter the other day, announcing that a lady of some note, who had always determined that whenever she married, her husband should be the counterpart of 'Mr. Knightley' in Miss Austen's Emma, had now changed her mind, and vowed that she would either find the duplicate of Professor Emanuel, or remain for ever single!"

I find it interesting that even a hundred and fifty years ago, young ladies were hoping to find husbands who reminded them of their favorite Jane Austen heroes. Somehow it seems a singularly modern thing to do, but I suppose that it is just another proof that human nature does not change. Now I am curious to read The Professor, to find out just what kind of man was able to usurp Mr. Knightley!

Dreams in Flannel

I can finally stop my search for the perfect nightgown. After much deliberation, I decided that I liked the "Anastasia Nightgown" from Victorian Trading Company. However, some designing was in order, since I did not intend to pay $70 for a piece of nightwear!

I started with the robe pattern from McCall's 9437, an out-of-print Laura Ashley pattern that I had purchased a few months ago.




After making numerous alterations to the robe pattern (cutting down the front, adding material to the back, making the cuffs smaller, measuring and cutting panels for the bodice front, adding a ruffle to the bodice, shortening the collar ruffle, etc.), my nightgown was ready to wear. The flannel is creamy, soft, and deliciously warm. I just can't get over how comfortable it is!

I was quite pleased with how the bodice turned out. Although I have no desire to sew several layers of flannel with doubled gathering ever again! For the front panel, I drafted a small piece and adjusted it to fit. A second piece covers the seams in the back for a smooth fit.




Instead of using covered buttons, like the nightgown from Victorian Trading Co., I used three vintage buttons from the stash I inherited from my grandmother. Each one is different from the others, which means they match perfectly!



I added satin ribbon around the neck to cover the serged edge of the ruffle and nightgown. It solved the problem of how to hide the seam, and it's delightfully smooth and luxurious.





I have always wanted a ruffled cuff on a nightgown, and now I have one! It was so convenient that this was already part of the pattern. All I had to do was shorten the cuff piece.

I loved getting to practice some drafting skills on a garment that only my family will see! I haven't had a real nightgown in many years, so I'm rediscovering the joys of warmth and coziness. And at less than $10, it was certainly easier on the pocket than the one from Victorian Trading Co.

Finding my inner housekeeper

After a few weeks of anticipation, my interlibrary loan finally came in: Home Comforts, by Cheryl Mendelson. At one and a half inches thick, this book tells you just about everything you could ever want to know about running a household. From laundry to insurance, from grand pianos to fine crystal, Cheryl Mendelson has assembled an amazing resource written in a delightfully personal style.



I have only gotten 56 pages into the book so far, since I am interested in most of the topics addressed! But already I have found it helpful. Before I cleaned the house with my sister yesterday morning, I read the chapter on "Vacuuming, Sweeping, and Dusting." Realizing that I had some extra flannel in the sewing room, I serged up some tidy little squares to mist with water for dusting. I folded them into quarters so that as soon as one surface of the cloth got dirty, I could fold it to reveal a clean surface. They worked wonderfully, and are certainly much more thorough than the Swiffers we have been using. I'm ready to cut out even more now!

However, this book has much more than oodles of good housekeeping tips. More importantly, the philosophy of homemaking that is presented is satisfying and encouraging. I've never liked the books that try to tell you how to clean your home as quickly as possible -- perhaps because they only reinforce the idea that housecleaning is a drudgery that should be gotten out of the way. Instead, Home Comforts presents the idea that our homes are havens for our families, and taking good care of our homes is really a labor of love for the ones that we love -- and that labor can be fulfilling if we do it well. Amazingly, I didn't find myself wondering how quickly I could get done. I actually enjoyed seeing the results of my work (especially with the new techniques I learned!).

Perhaps the very fact that I have done an entire blog post on cleaning is evidence in itself of how much I like this book!

More than meets the eye

A few years ago a dear neighbor gave me an antique needle case as a birthday gift. It had once belonged to an elderly lady whom she had known in New England. As I began to examine it, I soon discovered that it was no ordinary needle case.




If you unscrew the cap, you find that the case contains a triple bobbin -- very convenient for stitching up little wardrobe mishaps.



The knob on the end of the bobbin unscrews to reveal needles hidden safely inside:



Very useful, to be sure. But there is one more secret to this unusual needle case. The bottom also unscrews, revealing a compartment perfect for a few buttons:



What appears at first to be a stick of carved wood turns out to be a complete little sewing kit, contained within its own burl wood sheath. It's certainly more than meets the eye -- and in that way I suppose it resembles a person.

Except, of course, that people don't have handy compartments for extra buttons.

Ruminations of a Bibliophile

Here's a piece I wrote about a year ago for a Creative Writing class. If there are any fellow bibliophiles out there, I hope you enjoy it!


I am a self-confessed bibliophile.

I’m not in denial; I’m not ashamed of my condition. To put it simply, I love books. I cannot pinpoint the date that I contracted bibliophilia, but I have a strong suspicion that my older sister, a bibliophile herself, should be held responsible. My condition has worsened as I have gotten older and now threatens to consume my life. Sometimes I even fear becoming a bibliomaniac.

Unless you are a bibliophile yourself, you may experience extreme skepticism regarding this condition. The Webster’s New Students Dictionary describes a bibliophile as “a lover of books esp. for qualities of format.” This definition fits bibliophiles perfectly. You can find these people in bookstores across the world. If they’re not in bookstores, they’re in libraries; and if they’re not in libraries, they’re at home reading their books. If you ever hear someone raving about bindings or the texture of pages, you can be sure that you have run across a bibliophile.

Don’t think that bibliophilia only affects those who really need to get a life. One of the most educated and scholarly men of all time, Erasmus, was a self-avowed bibliophile. Erasmus eloquently summed up bibliophilism when he said, “When I get a little money, I buy books; and if any is left, I buy food and clothes.”

I believe there should be a subcategory of bibliophilia: Bibliophilia Antiquaria. This condition is distinguished by an obsession with old books. Many victims will spend hours in antique shops searching for “undiscovered treasures.” Bibliophilia Antiquaria usually involves sensory symptoms. The sweet, mildewy aroma of old books produces a euphoric sensation in these bibliophiles. Consequently, those who suffer from this condition can be easily recognized by their tendency to open old books and inhale deeply. Bibliophilia Antiquaria is an especially virulent form; victims have been known to pay exorbitant amounts of money to satisfy their cravings for old books.

Some people use the words “bibliophilism” and “bibliomania” interchangeably, but I believe there should be some slight distinction. While bibliophilism denotes true regard and love for books, bibliomania extends a bit further and enters the realm of obsession. People with this condition do not necessarily read the books they buy; they are only interested in accumulating large numbers of them. One famous bibliomaniac, a wealthy British noble, collected over 160,000 books. His books were still being auctioned off a hundred years after his death. If you are a bibliomaniac, you might want to consider a career as a librarian. Perhaps imagining that all the books in the library belong to you will help ease the symptoms of your condition.

If you find bibliophilia and bibliomania a little too tame, here are some other options: Bibliophagy, or book-eating; bibliokleptomania, or compulsive book stealing; and bibliocaust, or book burning (as a bibliophile, that last one sends shivers up and down my spine). Maybe you’ve never considered yourself a book-lover before. But as you can see, many book activities don’t even involve reading. I suggest trying them out until you find one you like—although bibliokleptomania does not seem like a good choice from a moral standpoint.

Bibliophilia is not recognized as a medical condition, but I think it has distinct symptoms. Some of these symptoms include (but are not limited to): frequent purchasing of books, inability to get rid of books once they have been purchased, reading outside on pleasant days, reading inside on unpleasant days, browsing book shops for hours, and marked anti-social behavior. If you experience most or all of these symptoms, you can be fairly certain that you’re a bibliophile. You’d better go buy a bookshelf. A really, really big bookshelf.

Bibliophilia has no known cure--probably because true bibliophiles don’t want to be cured. If possible, avoid contact with people suffering from extreme cases. Their reclusive lifestyle renders them poor companions. Don’t worry, bibliophiles will not be offended if you avoid them; they would probably rather be reading, anyway.

Words of Wisdom from Writers

The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.
~Mark Twain

I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork.
~Peter De Vries

Variations on a theme of flannel

A recent JoAnn's sale of 99 cents per yard for flannel gave me just the inspiration I needed for this outfit. I have long been wanting to recreate the Louisa May Alcott Blouse from the Victorian Trading Co. I'll post a picture here, since they do not currently have one on their website:




However, not wishing to spend a great deal on a blouse that would likely not fit well (or be modest), I decided to make my own. I assembled the shirt from several patterns. I used one pattern for the princess-seam bodice but altered both the front and back necklines, as well as changing it from back closure to front closure. The sleeves are from another pattern and are unchanged (except for not adding a sleeve placket at the bottom). The neckline, collar, and peplum I drafted myself for lack of a pattern. A bit of a headache, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I don't particularly like this picture, but it's the only full length one I have! Why do photographs imply fitting problems that don't appear in person?






The buttons are my souvenir from London -- six little metal shank buttons from "The Button Queen," a perfectly delightful little shop near the Oxford Street shopping district. They were just what I needed for this project.






The thrifted Cluny lace that I rescued a few years ago -- ten yards for 75 cents -- was the perfect trim for both the blouse and the skirt.




A lovely green chintz flannel at JoAnn's was too much to resist, and I ended up with a skirt to match. It's kitten soft and quite cozy! The skirt is simply a four-tiered skirt which I designed/calculated myself. I'm thinking of posting a tutorial, since I couldn't find any helpful instructions on the Internet. I thought for sure that someone would have posted instructions already!