June 30, 2012

Dearest Diary,

I feel as though I have much to share with you this evening, but have not the strength to resist my dreams at present. Instead, I should like to leave you with a letter I received this morning from my beloved sister. It reads:

"Dearest Sister,

Recently I have noticed that our Heavenly Father may be sending us subtle messages of hope so that you and I do not fall into despair. For you see, we have both encountered gentlemen who demonstrated some (if not only very little) interest in conversing with us. The first encounter that I would list is your meeting with Sir Andrew. I truly enjoyed your account on that matter! I too have had one or two momentary conversations with gentlemen who showed a possible interest in courtship.

If you will recall our lunch outing with Mamma at the establishment owned by Mr. Crisper, I made the acquaintance of a seemingly affable gentleman. Although perhaps "made the acquaintance" is not quite the appropriate phrase, for we were not properly introduced. I was not even able to ascertain the gentleman's name. However one might assume that he hailed from the northern country for he wore the emblem of a bear cub on his clothing that has been worn by others in that province.

I apologize for my digression, dear sister. This gentleman and I shared some friendly words while we were helping ourselves to some refreshments. Had I been aware of what was transpiring, I might have prepared myself to be more clever. Instead, after he inquired about my health, all I could do was answer politely and stand there grinning like a dunce. The gentleman had no other choice but to politely wish me a good day and take his leave.

This reminds me of the evening, years ago when you and I had the opportunity to meet with that talented Mr. Connick (although I am not familiar with his father, I believe he is named for him) following one of his recitals. I spent the entire time while we waited our turn deciding on a clever and dignified way of expressing that I too was a musician. When the opportunity to speak to him finally arose, my only action was to bid him hello.

Perhaps my brain's refusal to assist me in witty conversation whenever a desirable match is nearby is the main cause of my perpetual state. Alas, I must practice this skill much like I must practice the pianoforte. Perhaps I shall some day become a proficient.

Yours, etc. ..."

Her conclusion leads me only to bid you farewell myself and to return to you again on the morrow.

June 29, 2012

Dearest Diary,

Lady Pigeon at last was able to visit Ashford today, and I believe she'll find herself to be quite content in her new surroundings. There are a great many windows for her to peer out of and most are placed at a height quite suitable to her stature. She pranced delightedly through the rooms and examined every scent throughout. I am pleased with her reaction.

I received no word from Sir Andrew today, but I remain eager for his return visit. If he does not return, however do not think I shall shed a tear. I shall remain the happy sort of girl I cannot help but be at present.

I have tired very easily today and therefore may take a respite from the estate tomorrow.

June 28, 2012

Dearest Diary,

At last we return to the topic of most interest in this particular correspondence. Today I was introduced to a gentleman by the name of Sir Andrew. He arrived at the Ashford estate just after breakfast and began to survey the grounds in an attempt to assist in my impending move from Granada. His timing could not have been more perfect as he rescued me from a rather peculiar visitor who had called a slight bit earlier. Sir Andrew was keen to talk about universities he favoured and his tastes in music and theatre. In the course of our visit I discovered his childhood was spent but two shires north of my own. We pleasantly reminisced until once again interrupted by the former visitor.

I am not sure if I shall again make the acquaintance of this Sir Andrew, but I do hope he returns as he declared he might. As for the other visitor, I wonder if you might recall an unusual character by the name of Pat, from a theatrical production some years back. It was known mostly for its initials SNL. Well, this nuissant visitor was not too unlike that character, and I even now, do not know enough to provide you with an accurate description of the visitor. However, I am aware that the individual also experienced an upbringing in the same region of the country that I and Sir Andrew experienced. And thus was the demise of my visit with Sir Andrew.

While I am assured that the visitor, the former, shall return again (to my despair), I rather am hopeful that the visitor, the latter, will indeed return when the rest of the furnishings arrive. Perhaps we shall be privy to that end on the morrow...

June 27, 2012

Dearest Diary,

I am most grateful this evening for a most faithful hound. Lady Pigeon has been a loyal confidante and companion for nigh on twelve years. Often there is little else one could ask for than the friendship of one such as she. In the past near fortnight of years, she has laughed with me, cried with me, played with me, and even prayed with me. She has been a fine protectorate and an able retriever (though confidentially, she is not often keen on relinquishing that which she has retrieved). On her special day today, she dined on her favorite dish, and accompanied me on a lengthy walk about the grounds of the estate. I even delayed her bath until the morrow.

June 26, 2012

Dearest Diary,

The Ashford Estate is certainly in a bit of disrepair, but it is cleaning up nicely. There is a covey of kitchen help that has come with the estate, but it looks as though I will be looking for a replacement for some of them. I mean no disrespect to the particular girl who washes the dishes except that she is rather odourous. And I haven't yet been able to inspect the ovens. There is a gentleman coming on Thursday in order to examine the flooring and determine what is to be done in that regard. Meanwhile, I have not decided whether Lady Pigeon shall be traveling with me to the estate until all matters are settled to my satisfaction. I had originally thought she shall remain at the Granada estate, however tomorrow is the day she turns twelve years of age, and I cannot fathom leaving her for many hours on such a day. Twelve years is a great many for a dog of her breed and I believe the old girl remains in pretty good health. If she remains at our present residence, she should certainly expect a bit of cake when I return. If you, dear Diary, are the sort who thinks ill of one feeding her canine a bit of cake, then I suspect you will not pass judgment on me in this case. Every girl needs a bit of cake from time to time. And I look forward to mine on the morrow...

June 25, 2012

Dearest Diary,

I often wonder what it would be like to be entirely independent. Very few ladies are, you know. During our formative years we rely on our mother and father, and then most of us marry and depend on our husbands for a great many tasks. Perhaps that is not quite fair to assert today, but it is still often the case. There are a few of us, however who have not found the match we desire to settle down with. The one who should provide the house and the bread on which we live. And I suppose that in many ways we consider ourselves underpriviledged and oftentimes alone. There are certainly disadvantages to this somewhat unorthodox method, and yet today I find myself feeling somewhat proud of my detachment. There is no one I must turn to in order to have my phaeton repaired, or to reshoe my horse. I cannot send a husband to ascertain an introduction or remit an invitation, but I myself must tend to every intricate or mundane task that must be accomplished in an everyday household.

And even, might I add, speaking of households, today it is I alone who possess it. Yes, dear Diary, I have purchased an estate entirely my own. I walked straight into the house of mortgages and purchased the deed. And while it all sounds very simple and efficient, it is a matter that has taken a great deal of time and persistence. But there is no one but God Himself who has done it for me. I am, as you might say, an independent. Much like the Americans claim to be.

Please understand, dear Diary, that I do not boast in myself for being so--very often, that is. You know as well as I that I should very well like to have purchased the estate with a husband. But it is not often that one can boast in being a maiden, and so I vow it shall be only a single instance that I shall do so this evening. I shall recommence the task of filling the estate with a reasonable suitor on the morrow.

June 24, 2012

Dearest Diary,

The rain has deterred us from accomplishing much today. It seems the south of the country is a bit damp at present. The weekly services were quite nice, however and our tradition of feasting after such services was not put asunder. The remainder of the day was spent with a bit of needlework indoors. There was not the weather for much else.

A post did arrive late in the day that seemed to add to the dreariness of the weather. I have for some time been looking after a bit of property in the west of the shire that the current resident has been eager to bestow upon me. However, I have been given notice that the particular resident has now other designs for the estate. By tomorrow's end, I shall either own it outright, or not at all. I shall inform you of the outcome on the morrow.

June 23, 2012

Dearest Diary,

I had hoped today might be a day of great accomplishment, but alas I spent the chief of the afternoon with the Arnold family from the northern part of the country. It is a family I have not seen since my youth and in fact the youngest of the group was quite to my liking as a child. He however chose a certain Miss Cooper as his particular favourite among our little community. I believe they are still quite attached to each other. Just after their departure, my sister arrived in order that we might take to some exercise about the grounds of the estate. You will be delighted to hear that we have been resolved to do so rather frequently, and there is a great deal of conversation one can attend to on such journeys. Much is decided and settled upon on such journeys as well. Today I have decided to teach some additional lectures at the university in the months to come. It will keep a lady such as I quite busy, but it will be to my advantage to do so. Fortunately, I will not begin said lectures tomorrow.

June 22, 2012

Dearest Diary,

I regret to inform you that I cannot divulge what I had so desired to tell you yesterday. Now it seems there will be a few days more before I am able to advise you of such matters. But it has not darkened the rest of the day's events. I spent much of the day with my sister and mother as is typical of such summer days. There was of course a bit of rain, but neither did that dampen our spirits. We are soon to be in the company of some distant family from Scotland and that promises to be quite a time. I am not well acquainted with them, but I am told that the young maiden in the family seems to be a bit of an independent. I admire her spirit. I shall tell you more of our visit on the morrow...

June 21, 2012

Dearest Diary,

It seems that summer is at last upon us, although the climate has done its level best to convince us that summer was already here. Either way it was quite warm between rainclouds this afternoon. We have been apart for some time, you and I. The school children have taken holiday for the summer months and I have been able to return to the matronly tasks of noodles and needlework. I enjoy such respites from time to time. ...

But it is true that I have not divulged to you the most exciting change since we last spoke. It truly weighs on my conscience that we have not spoken in such a time and I do hope to remedy such an absence. And in order to make ammends I cannot wait to share this particular piece with you. However, I have vowed to not make any announcements until all the details have been completed. Perhaps you can expect such an announcement on the morrow