Dearest Diary,
I am charged with writing an essay on a recent symposium I had the honour to attend. And upon my delay I am now obliged to write a second one. While I am certainly fitted for the task I have found very little leisure to do so until this very day.
Now as I have almost signed my name to the article, it appears there are more pressing matters at hand. My nephew wishes to set sail at sunset and I shall be among the passengers. I declare that my composition must be put to rest for the moment. Perhaps it shall continue on the morrow.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
January 13, 2013
Dearest Diary,
I have made plans to visit York in the Spring, and for that I am greatly enthusiastic. With a bit of practice on the pianoforte this evening, I dare say my day is quite complete.
I have also made the discovery that there is a particular composer I am quite fond of who has commissioned my small ensemble to perform a piece or two at our next recital. I am of course happy to do it and only hope we may do the music justice.
Following the weekend's concerts, I have been endowed with some rather large ambitions in the coming year. I pray I am equal to the task. Perhaps we shall discover it on the morrow.
I have made plans to visit York in the Spring, and for that I am greatly enthusiastic. With a bit of practice on the pianoforte this evening, I dare say my day is quite complete.
I have also made the discovery that there is a particular composer I am quite fond of who has commissioned my small ensemble to perform a piece or two at our next recital. I am of course happy to do it and only hope we may do the music justice.
Following the weekend's concerts, I have been endowed with some rather large ambitions in the coming year. I pray I am equal to the task. Perhaps we shall discover it on the morrow.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
January 12, 2013
Dearest Diary,
I have returned to you once more as a matter of honour. Had I resolved to acquire more rest, than perhaps I would not have returned. Nevertheless, here I am.
It has been a most delightful Saturday, and again I am feeling quite accomplished as the day draws to a close. I discovered upon further exploration, that Ashford's previous owners left behind some useful artifacts that I should like to employ in due time. I also had the good fortune of observing my nephew in a bit of sport this morning. I expect this shall be the first of many spectator opportunities to follow. His display was quite impressive, and I believe he shows immense promise as the athlete his father desires him to be.
I must admit that I am not immune to the competitive nature, however my inspiration of late tends to be more philosophical than physical. I suspect that in order for real change to occur, one must in fact practice the changes on which she would wax philosophical. It is quite possibly useless to consider them from the comfort of the chaise. That I shall aspire to on the morrow.
I have returned to you once more as a matter of honour. Had I resolved to acquire more rest, than perhaps I would not have returned. Nevertheless, here I am.
It has been a most delightful Saturday, and again I am feeling quite accomplished as the day draws to a close. I discovered upon further exploration, that Ashford's previous owners left behind some useful artifacts that I should like to employ in due time. I also had the good fortune of observing my nephew in a bit of sport this morning. I expect this shall be the first of many spectator opportunities to follow. His display was quite impressive, and I believe he shows immense promise as the athlete his father desires him to be.
I must admit that I am not immune to the competitive nature, however my inspiration of late tends to be more philosophical than physical. I suspect that in order for real change to occur, one must in fact practice the changes on which she would wax philosophical. It is quite possibly useless to consider them from the comfort of the chaise. That I shall aspire to on the morrow.
Friday, January 11, 2013
January 11, 2013
Dearest Diary,
It seems that the Advent Season has come and gone once again and we have begun the lessons and running of the household once more. This happened nearly a fortnight ago, and yet I have only now had the time to sit and compose such a letter. The season brought many welcome visitors to the estate, and in their present absence, I suppose I find myself with a bit of melancholy at the silence and stillness that is now life at Ashford.
It is customary for one to propose the likelihood of change in the coming months, whether to one's figure, occupation, or general lifestyle, but I have been remiss at making such resolutions. And I now feel a bit the lesser for it. It would seem a bit folly to now propose a resolution of proposing such resolutions, but nevertheless, that is precisely my aim. However, I suppose my lack of resolve comes not from a lack of ambition, but rather a lack of need for resolution. The year previous has given me an abundance of rewards, and it is hard to think what more must change. I have acquired a modest estate, an occupation in which I feel useful, and a nephew that quite honestly one cannot "resolve" to acquire. As I had resolved last year to do, I read the full text of the Holy Scriptures, and will continue their study in the year to come.
Among these rather large accomplishments, I achieved some smaller victories as well, and I tell you that I ended December quite happy and content. So, what then shall I resolve to do for this thirteenth year? Ought I again to make overtures of my figure, or declare I shall be engaged by year's end? A husband is not a thing to be commanded and obtained because I declared it so. And one's figure is always a topic of improvement in January, that it seems rather trite or cliche to mention it. I cannot bring myself to make such a promise. Would that I had not recently acquired a pianoforte, perhaps I could resolve to do so, but that too has added to my contentment. I tell you, I am a miserably contented woman!
Perhaps rather than seeing life as something on which to improve, I ought instead to see it as something to embrace and experience. And yet, I still feel as though I must insist on resolution. Therefore, I resolve to see you again on the morrow.
It seems that the Advent Season has come and gone once again and we have begun the lessons and running of the household once more. This happened nearly a fortnight ago, and yet I have only now had the time to sit and compose such a letter. The season brought many welcome visitors to the estate, and in their present absence, I suppose I find myself with a bit of melancholy at the silence and stillness that is now life at Ashford.
It is customary for one to propose the likelihood of change in the coming months, whether to one's figure, occupation, or general lifestyle, but I have been remiss at making such resolutions. And I now feel a bit the lesser for it. It would seem a bit folly to now propose a resolution of proposing such resolutions, but nevertheless, that is precisely my aim. However, I suppose my lack of resolve comes not from a lack of ambition, but rather a lack of need for resolution. The year previous has given me an abundance of rewards, and it is hard to think what more must change. I have acquired a modest estate, an occupation in which I feel useful, and a nephew that quite honestly one cannot "resolve" to acquire. As I had resolved last year to do, I read the full text of the Holy Scriptures, and will continue their study in the year to come.
Among these rather large accomplishments, I achieved some smaller victories as well, and I tell you that I ended December quite happy and content. So, what then shall I resolve to do for this thirteenth year? Ought I again to make overtures of my figure, or declare I shall be engaged by year's end? A husband is not a thing to be commanded and obtained because I declared it so. And one's figure is always a topic of improvement in January, that it seems rather trite or cliche to mention it. I cannot bring myself to make such a promise. Would that I had not recently acquired a pianoforte, perhaps I could resolve to do so, but that too has added to my contentment. I tell you, I am a miserably contented woman!
Perhaps rather than seeing life as something on which to improve, I ought instead to see it as something to embrace and experience. And yet, I still feel as though I must insist on resolution. Therefore, I resolve to see you again on the morrow.
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