End of the Week


In my previous post I failed to mention that Booth Tarkington won the Pulitzer prize for
several of his novels, The Magnificent Ambersons being one of them.
 You can find the book online here at Project Gutenberg.  There it can be downloaded as an ebook.

 Personally I would rather own a copy because I value a library in the home. Books are very valuable to me.
The movie version, with changed ending,  is also available.
 It was nominated for four Academy Awards and with a stellar cast including Orson Welles, Joseph Cotton, Anne Baxter and Agnes Moorehead its no big surprise at all. 
It is regarded as one of the finest films ever made in the United States.

Our weather has been back and forth with showers and sunshine and cool temperatures in the day and low temperatures at night enabling you to see your breath!  It is lovely , breezy and cool today.
Most of the summer people have left their summer houses for the year as another autumn closes in.

Time to pick up the little from her school bus .
have a wonderful weekend everyone.



Author Suggestion


I would like to make this a regular feature..
If you have not read Booth Tarkington  you may enjoy trying. I especially loved his novel 'Seventeen' which satirizes first love in a teenagers life.
This is an excerpt from the Ambersons providing a look into the past.

 The Magnificent Ambersons
by Booth Tarkington

"Major Amberson had “made a fortune” in 1873, when
other people were losing fortunes, and the magnificence of the Ambersons began then. Magnificence, like the size of a fortune, is always comparative, as even Magnificent Lorenzo may now perceive, if he has happened to haunt New York in 1916; and the Ambersons were magnificent in their day and place. Their splendour lasted throughout all the years that saw their Midland town spread and darken into a city, but reached its topmost during the period when every prosperous family with children kept a Newfoundland dog.

In that town, in those days, all the women who wore silk or velvet knew all the other women who wore silk or velvet, and when there was a new purchase of sealskin, sick people were got to windows to see it go by. Trotters were out, in the winter afternoons, racing light sleighs on National Avenue and Tennessee Street; everybody recognized both the trotters and the drivers; and again knew them as well on summer evenings, when slim buggies whizzed by in renewals of the snow-time rivalry. For that matter, everybody knew everybody else’s family horse-and-carriage, could identify such a silhouette half a mile down the street, and thereby was sure who was going to market, or to a reception, or coming home from office or store to noon dinner or evening supper.

During the earlier years of this period, elegance of personal appearance was believed to rest more upon the texture of garments than upon their shaping. A silk dress needed no remodelling when it was a year or so old; it remained distinguished by merely remaining silk. Old men and governors wore broadcloth; “full dress” was broadcloth with “doeskin” trousers; and there were seen men of all ages to whom a hat meant only that rigid, tall silk thing known to impudence as a “stove-pipe.” In town and country these men would wear no other hat, and, without self-consciousness, they went rowing in such hats.

Shifting fashions of shape replaced aristocracy of texture: dressmakers, shoemakers, hatmakers, and tailors, increasing in cunning and in power, found means to make new clothes old. The long contagion of the “Derby” hat arrived: one season the crown of this hat would be a bucket; the next it would be a spoon. Every house still kept its bootjack, but high-topped boots gave way to shoes and “congress gaiters”; and these were played through fashions that shaped them now with toes like box-ends and now with toes like the prows of racing shells."
(excerpt provided for educational purposes only)

Let me know what you think please?

Candy Box

Sunday is the Miss America pageant.
Will you watch it?   I just am not interested at all.
My father, of blessed memory, called it a 'meat market' and said women should not be judged on such silly standards.

In February I usually post this as a memorial to my father. I forgot this year but its never too late. 
Here it is:

 My father was a romantic.

He loved my mother dearly and he loved her mother, who lived with us most of my life, very much also just as he had loved his own.
He showed such a great deal of respect for her and for his own parents and as my maternal Grandmother said.."He is as good to me as 20 other sons".
She lived with us my whole life and never paid for anything herself. My father would not allow her to have to pay her own way.

He was a scientist,vice president and chief chemist of a well known chemical company, who for many good  reasons, later opened a soda fountain/ice cream shop that eventually became a commercial stationers store in a tiny town, selling stationary to  businesses and  office supplies to walk in customers.

Later on, he took a beating money wise from malls and the new mega  stationers like Staples who drove small business owners out of business and literally all but destroyed small town  downtown shopping.
 But he was honest to a fault in all his dealings, his customers loved him, his repuation was good and he was ever the romantic.

Sometimes for no reason at all he would bring home boxes of candy to my mother, grandmother and me after work.

 I  remember him walking home without his brand new coat one frigid night because he had given it to  a poor man.   "Its only a block walk", he had said to my mother--- the candy tucked under his arm. "I don't need a new coat when someone else has none."
Without exaggeration, that was who my father was.

We lived in a tall. narrow Victorian home on a hill over looking our whole street which was set  one block back from the  little main street of town.  That house was a child's dream of nooks and crannies, with heavy wooden real, actual hurricane shutters on the windows.
My grandmother and I had rooms that shared one very long house wide closet that had separate doors in our individual rooms.  When I knew she was in there I would open my side and peak around and wave down  its length at her.  What fun I had!

 In my grandmother's side of that closet, on a shelf , were a few frilly old candy boxes filled with her beautiful crochet work (she made filet crochet for slips, camisoles, hankies and doilies that said, 'cake' and 'bread'), news clippings of   friends deaths, births of grandchildren, marriages, cards from holidays,  yellowed news of her oldest son serving in North Africa and France during WWII, mementos and tiny souvenirs.

One such box was used to house her "good gloves" and one held "my good scarves".
 I once asked her why she saved all those boxes. "Oh, " she said, "its a shame to waste things".     "Yes", I said, "but you could fit this all in one or two big hat boxes".
She looked at me with those sparkling gray eyes , one of them now blind and said , "But there is so much love in these boxes".
I knew what she meant.
( Originally posted March 6, 2006)
Have a lovely weekend my friends.

 

Tuesday 4

Hello friends.
Time for Toni's meme.........



The old Stillwater General Store
 in Stillwater, New Jersey
1. What's the oddest thing you've ever returned?  I really don't think I ever returned anything odd at all, just normal stuff really.

2. Do you return things you don't like or just keep them? It depends on the item.  I will see if anyone else can use it first.  If it is cheap enough I save it until someone does need it or I find use for it.  Expensive things get returned.

3. What's the largest item you've ever returned?   I can't recall anything really large.  Mostly I have returned clothing that was too large/small or had defects.

4. Have you ever returned a dress/outfit you wore to a special occasion?
 No I would not like that.



The weather here is indicating an early fall. Skies are becoming more grey, winds are picking up, birds are quiet or gone south already.
Some trees are turning color and dropping leaves already.
We have had some thunderstorms and as fall edges its way in we are thinking about the gales and nor'easters that come with it.

How is your Tuesday so far?

Joan Hickson as Miss Marple


Joan Hickson as the beloved  Miss Marple
People talk  quite a bit about their favorite Miss Marple and I was always of the opinion that I like  them all just the same. Lately, however,  I have decided that I do indeed have a favorite.
Joan Hickson seems to embody what my mind's eye sees when I read Agatha Christie's Miss Marple stories so I will have to say she is my favorite.
She reminds me of my grandmother, of blessed memory, in demeanor and personality. Always well turned out but with a home spun style. Her mind and wit as sharp as a tack.

Want to watch along with me? That would be nice but be sure to expand the screen.

This episode is a favorite: