Dearest Diary,
I regret to inform you that the beloved Esther Lindsay, my Grandmother, passed away this Lord's Day. I can think of no finer candidate for the gates of Heaven than the one presented this morning. She has for many years struggled with memory, hearing, and eyesight, but it is my belief that such faculties have been returned to her this very afternoon and she is perhaps privy to this letter in the same manner that you and I have knowledge of its contents.
I find consolation in the mutual mourning and admiration of my immediate family as well as that of my aunts and uncles and cousins. I am fortunate to remember her in their company and among them. She has raised six children as parishioners in the local churches and even they as the ordained have raised seventeen more in the care of the Father.
As even the next generation has remained in the church, our beloved Grandmother has established a priesthood among her heirs. She has given light to the proverb of training a child, for her children are many and their creed is one. Her memory will remain well beyond the morrow.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
September 18, 2012
Dearest Diary,
I received word this evening that Miss Gilmore has become engaged to a professor by the name of Medina. Additionally, I have been told of a beloved aunt's recent acquaintance with a most worthy suitor of her own. My joy on their behalf one could consider unrivaled, yet more so for the latter than the former, naturally.
On the contrary, I have had little time for such endeavours with the fall lesson though I do not wish that were the case. And so at such revelation this evening, I have vowed again to be mindful of the attributes that one is apt to notice in a young woman as appealing. I have begun to be mindful of my figure as well as my own health and accomplishments. For they are not to be considered trivial in gaining the affection of the right eligible bachelor. This is to be noted. I shall be introduced to one, perchance on the morrow.
I received word this evening that Miss Gilmore has become engaged to a professor by the name of Medina. Additionally, I have been told of a beloved aunt's recent acquaintance with a most worthy suitor of her own. My joy on their behalf one could consider unrivaled, yet more so for the latter than the former, naturally.
On the contrary, I have had little time for such endeavours with the fall lesson though I do not wish that were the case. And so at such revelation this evening, I have vowed again to be mindful of the attributes that one is apt to notice in a young woman as appealing. I have begun to be mindful of my figure as well as my own health and accomplishments. For they are not to be considered trivial in gaining the affection of the right eligible bachelor. This is to be noted. I shall be introduced to one, perchance on the morrow.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
September 8, 2012
Dearest Diary,
As the Autumn months begin it is increasingly apparent there is none to accompany me on long walks through the fallen leaves. This is not as tiresome today as I often find it to be. Rather there is far more to keep me occupied than to meditate on one's lack of a husband. Nevertheless as one would suspect, the matter does arise from time to time.
I was recently conversing on the topic with a friend of like circumstance. The friend then enlisted the advise of yet another friend who proceeded to issue a sermon on the topic at hand. Despite the necessity of the sermon, I found his words encouraging. He indeed bade me well on the journey and offered his own opinion of my worth for a suitor. His opinion was favourable. While I do not doubt whether I am deserving, it is not uncommon for me to question such an opinion when it is not often granted me by a source who is not my relation. I find I am again hopeful that my time shall come at last. In fact I am reminded of a certain literary aunt in France who deemed that we "not be married at once, but at last." It is evidently the more prudent election in her estimation. If it pleases her, I shall at least not marry on the morrow.
As the Autumn months begin it is increasingly apparent there is none to accompany me on long walks through the fallen leaves. This is not as tiresome today as I often find it to be. Rather there is far more to keep me occupied than to meditate on one's lack of a husband. Nevertheless as one would suspect, the matter does arise from time to time.
I was recently conversing on the topic with a friend of like circumstance. The friend then enlisted the advise of yet another friend who proceeded to issue a sermon on the topic at hand. Despite the necessity of the sermon, I found his words encouraging. He indeed bade me well on the journey and offered his own opinion of my worth for a suitor. His opinion was favourable. While I do not doubt whether I am deserving, it is not uncommon for me to question such an opinion when it is not often granted me by a source who is not my relation. I find I am again hopeful that my time shall come at last. In fact I am reminded of a certain literary aunt in France who deemed that we "not be married at once, but at last." It is evidently the more prudent election in her estimation. If it pleases her, I shall at least not marry on the morrow.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
September 2, 2012
Dearest Diary,
This evening I write to you from the coastal regions. I journeyed here to call upon the eldest Miss Lindsay for a short respite from the lessons. We have dined out and attended the theatre as well as visited the many shoppes that are within a short carriage ride from her cottage.
I have again been absent from you a fortnight and I pray you pardon me for such behaviour. I am unaccustomed to the portion of my day that is occupied with music lessons and maths. Although it can be enriching, it can also be quite tiresome. We have a collection of chamber ensembles that are full of young musicians, eager to play the proficient. They have been invited to play at a masquerade in two months' time. I am eager to present them to the the guests.
As for gentleman callers there are few but perhaps one or two of significance. I have been betrothed in heart to many a bachelor throughout my maiden hood, not the least of which was the baritone, Mr. Crosby, or my elder Mr. Willis whom I had the good fortune to entertain this afternoon. However these gentlemen are not the sort to which I am truly devoted, and a young Mr. Russ has boasted of my affection recently. There is even proposed another acquaintance to which I might be introduced, but neither is of any true consequence at present. I continue to find myself amused by the exchange of letters with Mr. Woodston, but I find that he too is often absent from thought. Perhaps on the day's journey, there will be time for my thoughts to dwell upon such as these. I shall depart on the morrow.
This evening I write to you from the coastal regions. I journeyed here to call upon the eldest Miss Lindsay for a short respite from the lessons. We have dined out and attended the theatre as well as visited the many shoppes that are within a short carriage ride from her cottage.
I have again been absent from you a fortnight and I pray you pardon me for such behaviour. I am unaccustomed to the portion of my day that is occupied with music lessons and maths. Although it can be enriching, it can also be quite tiresome. We have a collection of chamber ensembles that are full of young musicians, eager to play the proficient. They have been invited to play at a masquerade in two months' time. I am eager to present them to the the guests.
As for gentleman callers there are few but perhaps one or two of significance. I have been betrothed in heart to many a bachelor throughout my maiden hood, not the least of which was the baritone, Mr. Crosby, or my elder Mr. Willis whom I had the good fortune to entertain this afternoon. However these gentlemen are not the sort to which I am truly devoted, and a young Mr. Russ has boasted of my affection recently. There is even proposed another acquaintance to which I might be introduced, but neither is of any true consequence at present. I continue to find myself amused by the exchange of letters with Mr. Woodston, but I find that he too is often absent from thought. Perhaps on the day's journey, there will be time for my thoughts to dwell upon such as these. I shall depart on the morrow.
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