tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31037070028686924862024-03-05T16:45:33.591-06:00Footnotes: Novel Inspirations from History Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-71155127591118601632021-11-09T17:06:00.004-06:002021-11-09T17:06:39.120-06:00<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Annie May's Mother</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCedLKnLYrUZcnO89ilLOjBJUnuyhbtZ8EUj-zpDJYN-j_aRVXoWGepoFnd03Dc9gOvFdzIdbjQX_qCnIMT7bymzb1cex96K8Nw3IkuLaQyskGTm3JCvS6pO2O0sYBpgRNhAMLn8cpmc/s2048/IMG_9014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCedLKnLYrUZcnO89ilLOjBJUnuyhbtZ8EUj-zpDJYN-j_aRVXoWGepoFnd03Dc9gOvFdzIdbjQX_qCnIMT7bymzb1cex96K8Nw3IkuLaQyskGTm3JCvS6pO2O0sYBpgRNhAMLn8cpmc/s320/IMG_9014.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3daIe6nPfrfI_w_zEP5_NcoOes2KbRTpQaa8myAKB1uhQkJdWV6Qww8AjCI5X6HB2heVXkXZdFMrDsmJiRIYrwoQyLD2FFC9ZdF7-0a5TrtCPfQjwASQcUZREJfGavtYYAmVtuzmQcg/s2048/IMG_9011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><p></p></blockquote><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I don't know how long this portrait had been hanging in a low spot below other framed prints in the antique store, but when I took her photograph in my hands and read the message on the back, I couldn't leave her there. In shaky script on the cardboard backing, Annie May York had signed her note. </span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">"This is Henry York</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">at my death</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">take good cair of </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This Henry for I am</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">gone to meet her</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Love, sis</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Annie May York" </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Whatever had happened to Annie May or Henry, the photograph had not been treasured by descendants, for here it hung, gathering dust in a vast room dedicated to untold piles of china, silver, glassware, pottery, Pyrex, and kitchenwares. I couldn't leave it there. lI brought it home with me to Nebraska. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And then, one day, I got brave and removed the cardboard backing. And yelped with amazement. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrTrR2_eTsNg4B8_PFXFbGntqW2QCN0TGFN8TKN69bRcbC2FVKX8X5K3gfsKxJz3O6ap73Ii8G88WV5L_le_uS6TCxGutWuVIY-zZ5YE7DnfTnuPBekOHMNmpErUbiVRHK6e911WEwZY/s2048/IMG_9011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrTrR2_eTsNg4B8_PFXFbGntqW2QCN0TGFN8TKN69bRcbC2FVKX8X5K3gfsKxJz3O6ap73Ii8G88WV5L_le_uS6TCxGutWuVIY-zZ5YE7DnfTnuPBekOHMNmpErUbiVRHK6e911WEwZY/s320/IMG_9011.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Can you see the writing? Someone had filled the back of the photograph with ... I didn't know what. But after hours of squinting, magnifying, manipulating, and guessing ... I have most of it transcribed. It brought tears to my eyes because of the emotion. Here's what Annie May wrote about her mother (with spelling and capitalization as written long ago--and an "x" in places where I still haven't deciphered a word or three):</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dear god this is my</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">mother the mother of the</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">x x x and x</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">x. Oh how I love her. She</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">x gone 1 year 4 mos. looks as</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">if it been a life time but not a day</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">or night doe I miss asking god to help me</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">be good enough to meet her for that was</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">what she ask me to do to live a good life</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and meet her and I thank god I am ready</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">to go meet her any time. I had rather be with</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">her in sweet slumber than hafto endure this</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">one sided life hear oh god may I clasp her in</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">my arms again. I stood by her untill death</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">parted us. Just what she ask me. s x</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">to do a promies I made promises I filled</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I know god a just god when he take this</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">precious one from me he taken all and</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">all I loved mother so dearly and</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I could talk to her and get comfort when</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I talk to her and a good advice from a precious</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">mother who trusted god. and had faith beyond</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">doubt more than anyone I ever knew. She</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">left loving all her children regardless what they</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">done. they was still precious and good in</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">her sight. Oh I miss her But not for x</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">would I call her back to go through this old</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">world of trouble again May god bless all</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">her children that they may live a good life</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and meet her for she want that more than</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">any one thing on earth. May god bless me and</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">have mercy on me guide me and give me</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">x and grace faith and wisdom to be</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">good and meet her again. She cant come</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">to us but we can go to meet her oh god</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">each day and night I pray for her</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">to see x--heaven when I die</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I want x x (a name) to have this picture</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">for she understand it was my treasure</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">and her Grandma x love -- her</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">may god bless. E___ baby Pray</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">(a date inscribed April the rest illegible) all alone</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">x Jesus:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Annie May x </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And yes ... I think I have found Annie May (thank you Ancestry.com). But that's part of another post after I've verified some things and asked for help from a wise genealogist I know. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">More to come!</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Stephanie Grace Whitson</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><p> </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p></blockquote><p><br /><br /> </p> Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-17421561409368166312020-03-21T07:38:00.002-06:002020-03-21T07:38:27.657-06:00Quantrill's Raid<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Visit the past and </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">see justice prevail.</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B081NH1D4F?ref_=series_rw_dp_labf" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="652" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGY8E9cYriYL8NUK-26ilaAfGu-0JncYj2JKqDYN5iP6G6JwcGFQk2Br5y9JBMvD047THFEUzuWetkRmyUNxUYW7NNxass0XGwXSeFu7YLgDRYiqYErEAT7HXJAM80tY3H9f_kpvZPyj14/s400/BOTH+COVERS.PNG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I'd like to introduce you to the <b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B081NH1D4F?ref_=series_rw_dp_labf" target="_blank">The Past Time</a>s</b> series. I liked the idea of the "present" being in the past, so these two books are set in 1878 and 1879. The main character goes back in time from there, facilitating God's justice. Psalm 36: 6 says, "Your righteousness is like the highest mountains, your justice like the great deep." God uses my character, Justine, to showcase His wonderful attributes. Here's the gist of the series<i>: </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><b>Stand up for what is right, no matter the cost.</b> 1878: Frivolous New York socialite, Justine Braden, receives the gift of time travel on her twentieth birthday--as have past </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">generations of the women of her family. Such a gift presents her with a great purpose, one that is far beyond her imagining: justice. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">The gift is given, but it can be declined, ignored, or embraced. If she is strong enough, brave enough, and noble enough, the gift will facilitate justice and change many lives for the better. J</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">oin Justine on her journey from a fickle girl into a woman of great purpose and potential.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MVGF3DR?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_0&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank"><b>Where Time Will Take Me</b></a> </i>takes place in New Hampshire where Justine is sent back into Colonial America. Book 2: <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B081J9CHWV?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank"><b>Where Life Will Lead Me</b></a> </i>has Justine living in Lawrence, Kansas where she explores frontier life and the Civil War.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I live in Kansas, so was excited to delve into its history. One of the historical events I have Justine visit is Quantrill's Raid in Lawrence during the Civil War. First, you need to understand the animosity between Missouri and Kansas at that time. <span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">The people who traveled westward were independent people—an admirable trait. But many came to flee their own crimes, or because their views conflicted with established society. Those who settled in Missouri tended to have Southern roots, were often sympathetic to slavery, and had plantation-type farms. For the most part, those who settled in Kansas had Northern roots and opposed slavery. Sometimes opposing sensibilities were as close as the next farm. And so there was conflict—sometimes horrendous, violent conflict. Hence the term "Bleeding Kansas".</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmVC67ewywCjsxM7IziF6Af_SLeL8xSjjX7ECnp47GJfKI6FFAVVqv9z7dCnObEZcy9tqIR7zyZXgOIJfNbhZU_RYxR471OZ7xZJTdzYBCxjVkAIZIRe_7zR1E71LERIqBg2npmBNcAPm/s1600/Quantrills+sacking+pic+of+lawrence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="309" data-original-width="502" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmVC67ewywCjsxM7IziF6Af_SLeL8xSjjX7ECnp47GJfKI6FFAVVqv9z7dCnObEZcy9tqIR7zyZXgOIJfNbhZU_RYxR471OZ7xZJTdzYBCxjVkAIZIRe_7zR1E71LERIqBg2npmBNcAPm/s400/Quantrills+sacking+pic+of+lawrence.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<b style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">Quantrill’s Raid </b><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">was the most violent conflict between Missouri Bushwhackers and the Kansas Jayhawkers. William Quantrill was a guerrilla fighter from Missouri whose gang of bandits chased after escaped slaves and terrorized anyone who had Union sympathies.</span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">On August 23, 1863 he led a raid from Missouri into Kansas to attack the free-state stronghold of Lawrence. Four hundred men rode into Lawrence before dawn. They were told to shoot any man--or boy, who was big enough to hold a gun. The raiders carried American flags as cover until they got close, then brandished Quantrill’s black flag. They killed nearly 200 men and boys, and burned most of Lawrence to the ground, causing $20-30 million in damages (in today’s money).</span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">They rode back to Missouri and didn’t lose a single man.</span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXBSnVPYCbhDphi0M9WkGd2NjTeHLxKs6BsmlB8swGhkaKcylX9aR6iz2fV7hOTQjLTg6EH0d3ggu9oHDcrLQWGrU13Ahh_hVW289kQbdpFtUVIPvxI2hb5c0wQtMP1TGsq09lYbmoYQ-/s1600/Quantrill+raid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="525" data-original-width="551" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSXBSnVPYCbhDphi0M9WkGd2NjTeHLxKs6BsmlB8swGhkaKcylX9aR6iz2fV7hOTQjLTg6EH0d3ggu9oHDcrLQWGrU13Ahh_hVW289kQbdpFtUVIPvxI2hb5c0wQtMP1TGsq09lYbmoYQ-/s400/Quantrill+raid.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Why didn't Lawrence fight back? Their defenses were down. They'd spent years being told they were susceptible to an attack and had armaments ready. But when years passed and nothing happened they let their guard down. Unfortunately, with great consequences.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As we know, the pro-slavery side lost the war. Quantrill and his band of men (which may have included Jesse James) spread out and became outlaws, robbing and murdering innocents. Most died a violent death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I hope you dive into Justine's story as she seeks justice!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Thanks for stopping by! I'd love to <a href="http://www.nancymoser.com/" target="_blank">hear from you</a>. Happy reading!</span></div>
Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-51656932232476983212020-01-30T08:57:00.000-06:002020-01-30T08:57:21.740-06:00Feeding time!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qKS3yJFladPho0JdRFZDEnOLmVeC7JIQuWAhKPj3aIzigdl3TocAjzw6oCg0sJGGVC94RpHvsmXFx5fzHt4OdqGc7hRqNkpnYgwlz00f-bwlmWMOB_7VbZKulZ7uR9ZYRlfsmfBNeibU/s1600/Bottles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="570" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qKS3yJFladPho0JdRFZDEnOLmVeC7JIQuWAhKPj3aIzigdl3TocAjzw6oCg0sJGGVC94RpHvsmXFx5fzHt4OdqGc7hRqNkpnYgwlz00f-bwlmWMOB_7VbZKulZ7uR9ZYRlfsmfBNeibU/s200/Bottles.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Nancy:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband and I just experienced
the joy of the birth of our fifth grandchild last spring. We’re very blessed that all the kiddos live in town and we have the chance to take care of them. But taking care
of babies when we’re nearing sixty…<br />
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<br />
I am amazed at all the different bottle options out there, from the
tradition bottle, to ones that are bent at an angle, to those with disposable
innards, etc. Formula containing iron, lactose free...<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX-GzqQiEUz6jLSN273MgmCFhl40jqGdtNgA9wuwzs5rr1BEdRTjkTpEsObh0xtDFiQj6gPOwlYAroRkKCxfovhonvDPw7rITPNrQ7JxEfMaAsOdIQ53Y0vgt3N6DALqyoG-CZAswf7ei2/s1600/baby+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; float: left;"><span style="mso-no-proof: yes; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="mso-ignore: vglayout;"></span></span></a>When I was writing my
novel, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Masquerade-Nancy-Moser-ebook/dp/B00B853W7E/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1406644411&sr=8-1&keywords=masquerade%2C+nancy+moser" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Masquerade</span></a>,
which was set in 1886, I had to do some research about bottles and milk. Was
milk available for purchase in the poorer areas of New York City? And what did
bottles look like?<br />
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Turns out the issue of getting milk into a baby—when the mother couldn’t
nurse—has always been an issue. In medieval times, babies drank from a hollowed
out horn. Later on, there were "pap feeders" made of
porcelain. And "pap" was often boiled water and flour.
Sometimes bread or egg was added. <br />
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<br />
In the mid-1800’s cow’s milk was shipped in wood barrels and would easily
spoil. It was a dairy farmer by the name of Gail Borden who did something about
it. He was sailing home to the USA from Europe, when they encountered rough
seas. The cows on the ship got seasick and wouldn’t make milk—I never imaged
that was possible. The babies on board were crying from lack of milk.
Personally, when I look at situations like this, the odds of getting a dairy
farmer with foresight on a ship in a storm, with cows that couldn’t produce
milk . . . it leads me to know that the entire situation was God-arranged. <br />
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_3" width="300" /></span></span></a></div>
<br />
<br />
When Borden got home he started doing experiments with milk and found that
it was 87% water. If he boiled it down in an airtight pan, he came up with a
condensed version that was resistant to spoilage. On the way to Washington D.C.
to get a patent, he met up with a wealthy grocery wholesaler, and together they
canned it and tried to sell it. In 1864, the Eagle Brand Consolidated Milk
company was formed.<br />
<br />
<br />
Canned milk was not a huge success. During production, essential fats and
nutrients were lost, and people were used to a more watery consistency and a
white color (to get the white color, chalk used to be used!) But Borden
persevered, and the Civil War was a boon to his business as the troops were
sent condensed milk as part of their rations. At one point during the war,
Borden produced 300,000 gallons of condensed milk at his Elgin, Illinois plant.
It seems that this milk was not a beverage, but just a condensed form of the
milk product.<br />
<br />
<br />
In 1885, John Meyenberg, an immigrant from Switzerland, was producing the
first evaporated milk at his Helvetica Milk Condensing Company plant. Soon
after, Eldrige Amos Stuart developed a way to process canned, sterilized
evaporated milk. By the end of the century, he partnered with Meyenberg and
supplied Klondike gold miners milk in 16 ounce cans.<br />
<br />
<br />
As the twentieth century began, homogenization was implemented, and in 1934,
Meyenberg’s company (now the Pet Milk Company) added Vitamin D to their
evaporated milk by a process called irradiation. He exposed the milk to
ultraviolet light, which created the vitamin (amazing!)<br />
<br />
<br />
So… canned milk was available for purchase. But what then? How did you feed
it to the baby? <br />
<br />
<br />
Ceramic or porcelain bottles were used in the 19th century, with a piece of
cloth or rawhide stuffed into the end for the baby to suck upon. Preserved cow
udders were also used. (yuck!) But these containers were hard to keep clean.
Bottles became a little more sanitary when glass blowers began to create
actual bottles for this use. <br />
<br />
<br />
In the 1840’s vulcanized rubber came about that made rubber nipples
possible. But the smell was horrible, and they were not widely manufactured. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="center" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; text-align: center;">
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_4" width="209" /></span></span></a></div>
In the 1880’s a type of bottle was created that was advertised as the way to
feed your baby. Once the craze caught on, everyone and their brother had their
own version of this bottle. It was marketed by many names including “Mummies
Darling” and “The Princess Alexandria” (she was the Princess of Wales at the
time and was very popular.) But in spite of the marketing, this bottle was a
baby killer.<br />
<br />
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_5" width="204" /></span></span></a><br />
It consisted of a glass tube that held the milk, that had a stopper on it. A
length of rubber tubing went from bottle to a bone mouth shield, and a rubber
nipple. The big advantage was that the baby could feed themselves, even before
they could hold a bottle. The disadvantage was it was impossible to keep clean
and children died. Considering only two out of ten children lived to age two,
mostly because of hygiene issues, this type of bottle was a horrendous addition
to a continuing problem. Even though doctors preached against it, this type of
bottle was used into the 1920’s. It’s impossible to measure how many babies
died because of the germs formed and left behind in these bottles.<br />
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_6" width="213" /></span></span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Look at these photographs of babies using these bottles. How odd looking.
And more than that, how odd that the parents would let a precious photograph be
taken with their baby sucking on one of these. It would be like having a formal
picture of your child with a pacifier in its mouth. That first picture of the
little boy . . . he looks drugged.<br />
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_7" width="480" /></span></span></a><br />
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<br />
1894 brought a breakthrough that carried the bottle into the 1950’s. A “double-ended”
feeder invented by Allen and Hanbury. It was glass and had a nipple on one end
and a valve on the other that allowed the milk to flow continually—and made a
full cleaning possible.<br />
<br />
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" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_8" width="300" /></span></span></a>I was born in 1954 and
my bottles were also glass and the usual procedure was for mothers to sanitize
the bottles and nipples in boiling water. Then came plastic bottles, and when
we fed our three kids (in the late 1970’s to mid-1980’s) I used the Platex
nurser (“Most like mother herself”), that had the disposable bags. When the
grandbabies came along, I was rather surprised to find that the disposable
method had been re-replaced with plastic again. <br />
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" style="cursor: move;" v:shapes="Picture_x0020_2" width="300" />It’s said that whatever's old is new again, but hopefully, never again
with certain baby bottles of the past.//Nancy<br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Every city pushes its seams and expands outward, gobbling up land to satisfy its growing population. So it was with New York City in the 1880's. </span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Manhattan is an island with obvious boundaries. So the initial settlements on its southern tip could only move north. The neighborhoods that started as places for the wealthy to live (around the place that's now the Lower East Side) were a bit boggy and so were abandoned for dryer land up north. After the Civil War the wealthy chose the area around 5th Avenue and the Thirties to build their mansions. This is where the rich live in my novel <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V2C4354/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i3" target="_blank">Masquerade</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I always enjoy basing a house on a real house, and chose the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Turney_Stewart" target="_blank">A.T. Stewart</a> mansion that sat on the northwest corner of 5th Avenue and Thirty-fourth. It took over five years to build and when it was finished in 1869 it had cost $1.5 million. In today's money that's about $37.5 million. Pretty much beyond comprehension!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Doesn't it looks like a library? It was the first residential showplace in NYC and was deemed "palatial". This is the foyer and one of the bedrooms. All rooms shown here were figured into scenes in my novel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Mrs. Stewart also had her own art gallery. She had a huge collection of artwork—that she mostly kept to herself. The art room was 70' x 30' x 50' tall. She and Mr. Stewart had no children yet lived in this 55-room house. He (like my patriarch, Martin Tremaine) earned his fortune by starting a department store: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/280_Broadway" target="_blank">Stewart's Dry Goods.</a> I'll go through details of stores of the time in a separate post. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">An interesting thing about the Stewart mansion is that their neighbor to the south was William B. Astor II and his wife, Caroline, or THE Mrs. Astor. She was the head of New York society and her approval or disdain had the power to make or break people. And yet her house was a fairly simple brownstone. Here's a picture of it in 1897. It's the small building on the right. On the left is the original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. It was built by William Waldorf Astor on the site of his family home after he decided to move to England permanently in 1891. It was built in great part to annoy his Aunt Lina who lived next door. A family feud over who was the head of society and all that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As early as the 1870's, the encroaching commercialization of the area led the social set to move north to Fifth Avenue and the "Fifties" to build their houses. The bigger the better. The upstart Vanderbilt family created mansions that made the Stewart house look like a guest house. Some of these mansions remain--with new uses, but the Stewart mansion was demolished in 1902. Progress, you know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And what now sits where the Astor brownstone and the old Waldorf-Astoria sat? The Empire State Building. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">If you'd like to read more of my Gilded Age novels, try the sequel to <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V2C4354/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i3" target="_blank">Masquerade</a>, </em>called <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V7SH44B?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank">An Unlikely Suitor</a>,</em> and <em>A <a href="http://www.amazon.com/PATCHWORK-CHRISTMAS-Judith-Mccoy-Miller/dp/1616267488/ref=la_B001H6V28U_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421506157&sr=1-1" target="_blank">Bridal Quilt,</a> </em>which is in the novella anthology <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/PATCHWORK-CHRISTMAS-Judith-Mccoy-Miller/dp/1616267488/ref=la_B001H6V28U_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1421506157&sr=1-1" target="_blank">A Patchwork Christmas</a>. </em></span><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">//Nancy Moser</span><br />
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Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-81511135861869642622017-07-13T10:03:00.000-05:002020-01-30T06:36:01.377-06:00Shopping: Paper or Plastic?<div style="border: currentColor;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLWxFBO88OD9irTCUot4UbdT1BJdNpZ7c7e4iNeoq7Nq1nYR4bUGhM-SXprYHgLiROqYPtq4JUNg4IvA7QU7gEBhqorAiKoMlO0KzLNp703DI7_oclN6xa4Xj0tM-UqhscBcswwf6ptko/s1600/drygoods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLWxFBO88OD9irTCUot4UbdT1BJdNpZ7c7e4iNeoq7Nq1nYR4bUGhM-SXprYHgLiROqYPtq4JUNg4IvA7QU7gEBhqorAiKoMlO0KzLNp703DI7_oclN6xa4Xj0tM-UqhscBcswwf6ptko/s320/drygoods.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In this season of Christmas shopping we are faced with the question: <em>Paper or plastic?</em> Believe it or not, that familiar line has only been around since 1977. But what about when there were no shopping bags. Can you even fathom it?</span><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Masquerade-Gilded-Age-Book-1-ebook/dp/B07V2C4354?_bbid=13520214&tag=individualbookpagesite-20" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1036" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTKlCBueN-qfFuI1nBDlpwgsSofVaQKy-2tObC0GgN7Nc-vA87h2QDmAIjPY0-Kf42WYqi4ore1kx-XnbGXnDmwybxNx4nPO04n9ENzn4f6IhsSjg9Eef9DMhfxmXzGs6Ycb9vtRPYnwIl/s320/Masquerade+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I was writing <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Masquerade-Gilded-Age-Book-1-ebook/dp/B07V2C4354?_bbid=13520214&tag=individualbookpagesite-20" target="_blank">Masquerade</a></em> which is set in 1886, the story involves a department store. I needed to find out how shoppers got their goods from store to home. Turns out they often had the purchases delivered. In New York City, millions of packages a year. Free delivery became a marketing tool. And small goods were often wrapped in paper and tied. Women had trouble enough getting around town in bustled dresses and intricate hats, much less carrying around a myriad of bags.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So when was the shopping bag invented? Let’s back up. The <em>paper</em> bag was invented in 1852 by Francis Wolle. He and his brother started the Union Paper Bag Machine Company after the Civil War. Yet paper bags were flawed. They were often shaped like envelopes, were made of flimsy paper, had to be pasted together by hand, didn’t collapse and store easily, and their V-shaped bottoms prevented them from standing up on their own. The next improvement came in 1870 when Margaret Knight invented a machine to cut, fold, and paste paper bag bottoms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In 1883 Charles Stilwell developed the square-bottom paper bag with another improvement: pleated sides. It was named the S.O.S., or Self-Opening Sack. Hey, I used one of those the other day at the grocery store.</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBPu2_jn13NcbkiAmiapnGLtwfH8MUzUQ-jFYEU-aktca6MwaQQ3DI6aUMJlWv5aflUSRsBvMR5z2PnQCmrfaPCbsPqBttZnthNh6NM9SgoSDpbBxgevdjdzPYc435hJt1WYTdsYvM_ps/s1600/store.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBPu2_jn13NcbkiAmiapnGLtwfH8MUzUQ-jFYEU-aktca6MwaQQ3DI6aUMJlWv5aflUSRsBvMR5z2PnQCmrfaPCbsPqBttZnthNh6NM9SgoSDpbBxgevdjdzPYc435hJt1WYTdsYvM_ps/s1600/store.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I’m going to digress about Margaret Knight a bit, because she was quite the woman. Over her lifetime Margaret had 90 inventions and 22 patents. She developed her bag-making machine when she was only 33, while working at the paper factory. The first one was out of wood, but then she developed one out of iron. But Charles Annan, a man who was visiting the factory, stole her idea and tried to get a patent on it. Instead of backing down, Margaret filed a patent interference suit against him. She spent $100 a day plus expenses for sixteen days of depositions from herself and other witnesses. Annan’s defense? He claimed that because Margaret was a woman she wasn’t capable of understanding such a complex machine. Margaret’s offense? Her detailed notes, diary entries, and trial and error samples validated her creative process. The court ruled in her favor. "I'm not surprised at what I've done. I'm only sorry I couldn't have had as good a chance as a boy, and have been put to my trade regularly." Margaret Knight was inducted in the National Inventors Hall of Fame in 2006.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6XYfXlD_m-UYfbpbk5fY9sqz83G4ctP_G7Biv4_vnd4zkoSj00q6Um9E-SKqCWhjkdQQghHf6BUrZ9bk_0B4Fjj6M1WtQvlmkKoWYgL9W9ncE-fMGXQGL1N3gBRD5vKfFp4Y4QyIh_BV/s1600/store+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6XYfXlD_m-UYfbpbk5fY9sqz83G4ctP_G7Biv4_vnd4zkoSj00q6Um9E-SKqCWhjkdQQghHf6BUrZ9bk_0B4Fjj6M1WtQvlmkKoWYgL9W9ncE-fMGXQGL1N3gBRD5vKfFp4Y4QyIh_BV/s1600/store+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Back to the shopping bag—the real ones with handles. You see, people were restricted in how much they could buy because they were limited by what they could carry in a bag held in their arms. In 1912, Minnesota grocer Walter H. Deubner, created a paper bag with a cord running through it for strength. His bag could hold 75 pounds of groceries. He sold the bag for five cents and within three years was selling a million bags a year. That’s a lot of groceries. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3uh_8pbLaOGN2rQtvWOyIWGkoAR7TtDJGlSggRn7gT1aA6kJC2VC-zwGTtkAxaghLf6hl5JQbngNE_JSKrLZ6jQgFMPcQ_9S4OnvbJ3A76iSALODgVIXNthf5rhphUB8iChyK6TANWIMP/s1600/Shopping+bag+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3uh_8pbLaOGN2rQtvWOyIWGkoAR7TtDJGlSggRn7gT1aA6kJC2VC-zwGTtkAxaghLf6hl5JQbngNE_JSKrLZ6jQgFMPcQ_9S4OnvbJ3A76iSALODgVIXNthf5rhphUB8iChyK6TANWIMP/s200/Shopping+bag+1.jpg" width="189" /></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Only in the 1930’s were bags given away, and in 1933 they finally—finally—added a handle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Smithsonian has 1000 in their collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we all know, bags became a status symbol and a means of advertising.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who wouldn’t like to carry around a shopping bag from Neiman Marcus or Tiffany? In the latter’s case, a small bag is a good bag.//Nancy Moser</span></div>
Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-50549478606885196362016-06-21T20:36:00.000-05:002020-01-30T06:39:15.584-06:00Mozart's Big Sister<div style="border: currentColor;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qaU0vDfDarzaKCXwbEAfsrQgG9YzZNN4WxOb3BV3h6kD3VQRYK_EDii52zOYU1CIfKFnPANmetWuTROm0R5IQgdKRxMl-dNDbsd2I5zfkswXjRY6VC5Rg6Ze-zU-S6d9Ya5YTNJaa_ZY/s1600/Papa,+Wolfgang,+and+Nannerl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0qaU0vDfDarzaKCXwbEAfsrQgG9YzZNN4WxOb3BV3h6kD3VQRYK_EDii52zOYU1CIfKFnPANmetWuTROm0R5IQgdKRxMl-dNDbsd2I5zfkswXjRY6VC5Rg6Ze-zU-S6d9Ya5YTNJaa_ZY/s320/Papa,+Wolfgang,+and+Nannerl.jpg" width="288" /></a>Did you know Mozart had an older sister who was just as talented as he was? But because she was a woman she didn't have a chance to fully utilize her talent.</div>
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How sad.<br />
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I heard these two facts a few years ago when I was touring Mozart's house in Salzburg, Austria. Even though I was on tourist overload, I remembered them, and, long story short, ended up writing a biographical novel, <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01G0QS7GQ/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p2_i6" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"><b>Mozart's Sister</b></span>. </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rWmLAeUX1sCFYsVxGV8ogFcbIVY1LG1b7JpY9Xy31P2Tz7Sg6PHvh-fxP_j_VkpOujKEYCrlfWZHe0zKDXt8TDrwBuTDIP8ELdZOMpsEkw6GuCQa_U_EGB9nVHuiZVg7G_DwWOsZ1_sH/s1600/Mozart+Cover+FINAL+cover+ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rWmLAeUX1sCFYsVxGV8ogFcbIVY1LG1b7JpY9Xy31P2Tz7Sg6PHvh-fxP_j_VkpOujKEYCrlfWZHe0zKDXt8TDrwBuTDIP8ELdZOMpsEkw6GuCQa_U_EGB9nVHuiZVg7G_DwWOsZ1_sH/s200/Mozart+Cover+FINAL+cover+ebook.jpg" width="130" /></a></em><br />
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What's a biographical novel--or bio-novel, for short? In my case, I define them as novels that are factual (as much as I can make them so) but read like a novel. It's a chance for my ladies-of-history to speak, to tell their life-stories. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjqv9rLfsqMyEN7rVWDsGj2l87ULztCQwEUhKW2WXWRrF9mtkEKSNNilrL_gqCPMCkTSf70X3pZ_f1wmgwo4AOxlZe67fKfuV6HxdlEIt9uzNxXjbqoWT2wlJP38jvKVpKNXhnbraeyhB/s1600/Nannerl+age+11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjqv9rLfsqMyEN7rVWDsGj2l87ULztCQwEUhKW2WXWRrF9mtkEKSNNilrL_gqCPMCkTSf70X3pZ_f1wmgwo4AOxlZe67fKfuV6HxdlEIt9uzNxXjbqoWT2wlJP38jvKVpKNXhnbraeyhB/s200/Nannerl+age+11.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
Nannerl Mozart was five years older than her little brother, Wolfgang. Their father, Leopold, worked for the archbishop in Salzburg, Austria, with the music program at the cathedral. His talent went beyond music, to being able to see talent in others--in his son and daughter.<br />
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And so at the age of 5 and 10, Leopold and his wife took their children on a grand musical tour, to Vienna, Paris, London, Holland, Germany... They performed before royalty, in castles and palaces. Beyond the normal music, they did tricks like playing with a cloth over the keys. The aristocracy of Europe loved them. Their father readily accepted gifts and payment, though what they'd receive as compensation--and when they'd receive it--was a surprise.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKwKwd8jyxPoKyu3ri6RvTKui234n4BAYlEHsowA63cid9NtXKKBIfZwrcWQpXWagjsgs7hxbpTNp7nVyQT5pka_PqhhbAFZsVzSAmn1Df881UrF8d3nW4QCYLcbCo1TkKKih94SAvqiv/s1600/Nannerl+Mozart.tif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKwKwd8jyxPoKyu3ri6RvTKui234n4BAYlEHsowA63cid9NtXKKBIfZwrcWQpXWagjsgs7hxbpTNp7nVyQT5pka_PqhhbAFZsVzSAmn1Df881UrF8d3nW4QCYLcbCo1TkKKih94SAvqiv/s200/Nannerl+Mozart.tif" width="155" /></a></div>
But then . . . they grew. What was magical as children became less so as adolescents. Leopold began to lie about their age. Imagine being a young girl, blossoming into a woman and not being able to take joy in it because because the simple act of growing up annoyed her father <em>and</em> cut into the family income.<br />
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While Leopold struggled with money, status, and his own delicate ego, Nannerl was literally left behind. With money tight, and the children's star waning, their father focused on the son alone. Even though Nannerl could compose and was an expert at accompanying--without music--there were no women composers, so she was not encouraged. Women were supposed to take care of the home, get married, and have babies. He used her talent as long as it made him money, then pushed her aside.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBClUAr7Jsbnb-DdLd3ZlczOnOqrK3aDDo3no935ml3G5iJGscGRWhFIX1Sk8nxV55pSbRXub3eXHiXSTeu9yEwmCHjTtkMk-LouKLxF8cXSQdCzhXkYFcudqRzkji_iyTBgqThGfSXPDA/s1600/Mozart+family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="294" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBClUAr7Jsbnb-DdLd3ZlczOnOqrK3aDDo3no935ml3G5iJGscGRWhFIX1Sk8nxV55pSbRXub3eXHiXSTeu9yEwmCHjTtkMk-LouKLxF8cXSQdCzhXkYFcudqRzkji_iyTBgqThGfSXPDA/s320/Mozart+family.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mozarts, notice Mrs. Mozart shown in a portrait, <br />
after she died</td></tr>
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As for the other woman in the Mozart family? Nannerl and Wolfgang's mother, Maria Anna, was virtually a footnote to history. She lived, she bore these talented children, but then she died in Paris while being a reluctant chaperone to her teenage son who considered her a bother. <br />
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I often think about women in history, and the roles they were forced to play. Not that being a wife and mother isn't admirable (I enjoy both roles!) but to not have any choices . . . that's what I find sad. Consider your own talents and ambitions. What if they had no outlet? What if you were <em>dis</em>couraged from developing them to their fullest potential? I wouldn't take that well. Yet if a choice wasn't even an option . . . perhaps it was easier for these women of the past. Their roles were clear. Today, our roles are the ones that can grow fuzzy and complicated. Perhaps they didn't mind? </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YsUmzctfy7H7ntkpQ55e_WLIysIbdcM802vmuX061fLQo7b5xzivjO1nxEuCEN63tcQ5zhDyamAaBnOhW4BLZ7aSDYbp4slRNNnt6oWNJwIeEqVl1giczuXpAaxApzNSDiQxvEsDYvUw/s1600/Salzburg%252C+Austria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YsUmzctfy7H7ntkpQ55e_WLIysIbdcM802vmuX061fLQo7b5xzivjO1nxEuCEN63tcQ5zhDyamAaBnOhW4BLZ7aSDYbp4slRNNnt6oWNJwIeEqVl1giczuXpAaxApzNSDiQxvEsDYvUw/s320/Salzburg%252C+Austria.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salzburg, Austria</td></tr>
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I think it <em>was</em> hard for Nannerl because she was shown the world and was initially encouraged in her music. To have all that taken from her would be more painful than never having it at all.<br />
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And yet, I do believe she found happiness and fulfillment--though not as she expected. Isn't that often the way? When one door closes we are usually given the chance to find another path toward our purpose. Rocky roads are not impassable, they just take an extra dose of determination. </div>
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Read Nannerl's life-story in <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mozarts-Sister-Women-History-Book-ebook/dp/B01G0QS7GQ/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Mozart's Sister </span></b></a></em>available in eBook and print on <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mozarts-Sister-Women-History-Book-ebook/dp/B01G0QS7GQ/ref=" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Amazon</span></b></a><i>. </i>A new Bonus Edition is available, that includes 50 additional pages of Fact or Fiction, explaining more of the history of Nannerl and her family. Her father insisted that they keep all their correspondence, so I was often able to use their own words in the telling of the story. How better to hear a family's history? Also included in the Bonus Edition are extensive Discussion Questions for book clubs. Want to read an excerpt? Click <a href="http://www.nancymoser.com/excerptmozart.html" target="_blank"><strong><span style="color: red;">HERE</span></strong></a>. </div>
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If you'd like to read about other women-of history, check out my other bio-novels: <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Just-Jane-Nancy-Moser-ebook/dp/B00AEFFNQ2/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Just Jane</span></b></a> </em>(Jane Austen), <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Washingtons-Lady-Nancy-Moser-ebook/dp/B00AEFFN58/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: red;">Washington's Lady</span></b></a> </em>(Martha Washington), and <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/How-Do-I-Love-Thee-ebook/dp/B00AEFFLIW/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=" target="_blank"><b><span style="background-color: white; color: red;">How Do I Love Thee?</span></b></a><span style="background-color: white; color: red;"> </span> </em>(Elizabeth Barrett Browning.) //Nancy</div>
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-18511765484945320852016-03-21T08:57:00.000-06:002020-01-30T06:41:15.852-06:00The Ultimate Sacrifice<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Ice on the wings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That’s all it took to fell a plane. Thirty-four years ago Florida Flight 90 crashed. Those of you who are over 40 might remember the coverage of the catastrophe on TV. The flight took off in icy conditions, and because of ice of the wings, it couldn’t gain altitude. It crashed into the 14th Street bridge in Washington D.C., breaking apart and sinking into the Potomac.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x6_-De1owkJQN1TBapcd7OubeMeqFBidPc8Rh3OzoOu7A8PiP6Zwfr-kUPeTC1z7hi4NbIyVmd0YsWa83_HM3uCs-Y9d56Z4LMKwmPdY3SuAl0eR3Oog4NaurOh_UXrTONkqH4h75Tg9/s1600/crash+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="270" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x6_-De1owkJQN1TBapcd7OubeMeqFBidPc8Rh3OzoOu7A8PiP6Zwfr-kUPeTC1z7hi4NbIyVmd0YsWa83_HM3uCs-Y9d56Z4LMKwmPdY3SuAl0eR3Oog4NaurOh_UXrTONkqH4h75Tg9/s320/crash+2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We watched as only six survivors clung to wreckage amid ice floes in the frigid water. Heroes were born that day. And one died… I’ll get to him later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Survivors were saved by heroics from the shore, and one bystander, Lenny Skutnik, flung himself the icy water to pull a woman to safety. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And some were saved by a helicopter rescue. Don Usher, the pilot, hovered precariously over the handful of survivors, while his partner, paramedic Gene Windsor, dropped a life line to the victims in the water. Their bodies nearly frozen, their fingers stiff, they had trouble holding on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">On one occasion, Usher flew so low that one victim was pulled onto the skid of the helicopter. So low that Windsor—standing the on skid to reach her—had his shoes covered with water. Here’s a </span><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/air-florida-crash-reflections-on-a-tragic-day-in-dc/2012/01/12/gIQAANhytP_video.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">video</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBoYpL0wBILgsDvrZkLbEssrGdADY4P-IqZwOHfNWLZvcna50E21akYUFjutJcpuvRPu6ugNj30jJFGWRUOoMGMmQaE59HE8Gvojv34PyeJA94Z1-l3QCtl_UzIzAuVWaXMDmHSe_ea-I/s1600/crash+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvBoYpL0wBILgsDvrZkLbEssrGdADY4P-IqZwOHfNWLZvcna50E21akYUFjutJcpuvRPu6ugNj30jJFGWRUOoMGMmQaE59HE8Gvojv34PyeJA94Z1-l3QCtl_UzIzAuVWaXMDmHSe_ea-I/s1600/crash+1.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">All this happened while we watched on TV. Horrified. Praying. Spellbound.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And one thing we saw—that has still haunted me these thirty years—was seeing one man repeatedly hand the lifeline to others. Over and over he gave the line away rather than save himself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And when the others were safe, and the pilot went back for him? He was gone.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtcUIWSpTZw5CtpvsqFlak7-Wav_3VxvGxEiYTGCn3zrJZtRFUZ3tkrCjXv7hWZRviVqadCXBhC1YuulHaI79gqM1oZWHCDoLjeMjDwpc3l4VDNzykpFr5Um9C-q0qRzpMhcLjVMc3Pp8/s1600/Arland+D.+Williams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" kba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbtcUIWSpTZw5CtpvsqFlak7-Wav_3VxvGxEiYTGCn3zrJZtRFUZ3tkrCjXv7hWZRviVqadCXBhC1YuulHaI79gqM1oZWHCDoLjeMjDwpc3l4VDNzykpFr5Um9C-q0qRzpMhcLjVMc3Pp8/s200/Arland+D.+Williams.jpg" width="143" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">His name was Arland D Williams Jr.. He died while offering his fellow passengers--strangers--the greatest sacrifice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Of the 74 people who died in the plane (and four died on the bridge), all but one died of blunt force trauma. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Only one died of drowning. Arland Williams. Because of that fact, they were able to identify the brave man who gave his life so others might live.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In 1983--the year after the crash--they named the 14th Street bridge the Arland D. Williams Memorial Bridge in his honor. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd-Zr_1dbnPWnDw3OngU2mE8MioQsQTbaJlc_uKydAWwUBkWihkmyea7c2nYRfEWkecE31F9VJ75pAlXLL97PjdoM22wncqtcYpaj08hL888s544QM1_71SL7nOWIT46PKXAJzpH9gPnc/s1600/Seat+Beside+Me+cover+FINAL+ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Here is a </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arland_D._Williams_Jr" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">story on Mr. Williams</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. He also has a </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Arland-D-Williams-Jr/116504791731176" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Facebook page</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> in his honor. There is an </span><a href="http://www.mattoon.k12.il.us/vnews/display.v/SEC/Williams%20Elementary" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Arland D. Williams Elementary school</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> in Mattoon, Illinois, and the town has a </span><a href="http://www.enrichingourcommunity.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=60:arland-d-williams-jr-scholarship&catid=48:scholarships-mattoon-area&Itemid=46" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">college scholarship fund</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"> in his honor. The Citidel, a military school in South Carolina, has an </span><a href="http://externalaffairs.citadel.edu/homecoming07_arlandwmssociety" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Arland D. Williams Society</span></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, "to recognize Citadel graduates who have distinguished themselves through community service, heroism and bravery." He also received many posthumous honors. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">That makes me glad. And humbled. One ordinary man who stepped up, who gave up everything . . . I'm an ordinary woman. What would I have done in his situation? What would you do? </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3B9sJ4Y2rWG0PlYcpiAMLmHK1WgzEG224PmnMz2qdTo1CaY8T7_FDZx-K3NpdA2BEKSmiHvo12DUqrbANR6OkIXHT5OLZ3084NNcTVWuPI6INpzMNEHbEvgVhTOmpBP1RAr0PoOy6NWMY/s1600/NEW+2020+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1020" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3B9sJ4Y2rWG0PlYcpiAMLmHK1WgzEG224PmnMz2qdTo1CaY8T7_FDZx-K3NpdA2BEKSmiHvo12DUqrbANR6OkIXHT5OLZ3084NNcTVWuPI6INpzMNEHbEvgVhTOmpBP1RAr0PoOy6NWMY/s320/NEW+2020+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" width="204" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtt1nJ028p8oiQ03sn23hKuXWYfYpH04NbU0qiRT18-RZ1YsGkIyEWQYH3j3TV5Qu82CTELvYozY5zxIRqanSqTHlqQrsyk8klTvd2fF6riWlhoYUJZrc9BvCVEHWKC3fB1xt8CAZB_2L/s1600/Seat+Beside+Me+cover+FINAL+ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd-Zr_1dbnPWnDw3OngU2mE8MioQsQTbaJlc_uKydAWwUBkWihkmyea7c2nYRfEWkecE31F9VJ75pAlXLL97PjdoM22wncqtcYpaj08hL888s544QM1_71SL7nOWIT46PKXAJzpH9gPnc/s1600/Seat+Beside+Me+cover+FINAL+ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have always been so moved by this event, and in Mr. Williams sacrifice, that I wrote a book inspired by the crash and the rescue: </span><em><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01CLWURP2/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p2_i8" target="_blank">The Seat Beside Me</a></span></em><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. Although my characters are fictional (in deference to the survivors who are still living) I explored the humanity of the crash. For it all comes down to this: You’re sitting in a plane, chatting with your seatmate—who is quite an amazing person. But then the plane crashes. They die and you live. Why them? Why you? How can you live with the burden of being a survivor? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Let me tell you, writing the scenes with my characters in the water, writing the scenes from the hero’s point-of-view . . . it was one of the most excruciating and emotional things I’ve ever done. And because of that, it's the book of my heart. My heart broke a hundred times while writing it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I wrote it for the heroes of Flight 90, but also for the heros of 9/11, the heroes before and since, the sung and the unsung. I wrote it for the men and women who unexpectedly rise to their greatest while helping others.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">But above all, I wrote it for Arland. //Nancy</span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"></span><br />Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-60632111202317271882015-10-23T06:56:00.007-05:002015-10-23T06:56:59.649-05:00Why Don't We Wear Hats?<div class="separator" style="border: currentColor; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCaGzkiohz_T1jb0hWwLoAmLawcaMQqdGBYf6ZbCm_z-XrPJBR8NYDTeFJXLrOJQSZ8UFwly8E7azEWqjtgPxilvLKPtXwZEkFU2uLbm1EMjC1g1eOb-m5pJhgUMNu5E1FgDn3s_68Krn/s320/hats+8.jpg" width="209" /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When was the last time you wore a hat? It can be two degrees out, and only reluctantly do I pull on a warm cap. Considering the nylon of my coat can freeze within seconds and crackle like paper, it would be a wise move. But unless you’re British royalty, a construction worker, a cowboy, or any male under the age of thirty (I detest baseball caps), you’ve probably been bare-headed more than not.</span></div>
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Through the ages, why did people wear hats? For warmth, for protection, to show humility—and status. It’s fascinating how mankind moved through nearly two-thousand years in the A.D. of the world before we made the choice to say no-thanks to daily headgear. How audacious of us to change everything. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not that I want to return to the absurdity of the cone-heads of medieval times, or the massive hair-hat creations of the French court, but the nice bonnets of the Regency period and the sweeping hats of the Gibson Girl era are rather pretty. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCpOLDVkua-x0S_u1Crf1UKD_sqb6agzphUoSIEcadGjQYGZ4ZBwNg6spsH-HxFNkfT1dKx-dXSyhxNsZyi_n1pBLP2C3cVgSlw9ejuhr-zVjo0_CLupRgVcvY8CFvyasOTS7NUZgl517/s1600/hats+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually, it wasn't too many years ago that a woman (or man) wouldn’t dare be seen in public without a hat. It was the topper to many a smart-looking outfit. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCpOLDVkua-x0S_u1Crf1UKD_sqb6agzphUoSIEcadGjQYGZ4ZBwNg6spsH-HxFNkfT1dKx-dXSyhxNsZyi_n1pBLP2C3cVgSlw9ejuhr-zVjo0_CLupRgVcvY8CFvyasOTS7NUZgl517/s1600/hats+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwCpOLDVkua-x0S_u1Crf1UKD_sqb6agzphUoSIEcadGjQYGZ4ZBwNg6spsH-HxFNkfT1dKx-dXSyhxNsZyi_n1pBLP2C3cVgSlw9ejuhr-zVjo0_CLupRgVcvY8CFvyasOTS7NUZgl517/s200/hats+3.png" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I like the idea of hats--so much so that I've collected 200 of them on my <a href="https://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/accessories-from-history-fans-gloves-hats-and-para/" target="_blank">Pinterest </a>Board. Take a look and drool--even if you don't want to wear them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I doubt there’s a definitive moment when hats went out of favor, but from my own recollections I think Jackie Kennedy was one of the last to wear a snappy pillobox hat and look good doing it. Did hats die with the assassination of the president in 1963? Might they represent something innocent and crisp and elegant that we, as a country, relinquished when our president was murdered in front of our eyes?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know. In some cases even hindsight is blind. Yet I can truly say I'm okay with the no-hat style of today. Unless we change the whole of fashion to be classy and classic, unless we get the entire country to agree to give up jeans, jogging suits, and teeshirts, we don't deserve the luxury of wearing lovely hats.//<a href="http://www.nancymoser.com/" target="_blank">Nancy Moser</a></span></div>
Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-73262818653132442592015-04-12T13:00:00.000-05:002015-04-12T13:00:02.916-05:00Etiquette Then--and Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I wrote my novel <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Love-Summerfields-Manor-House-1/dp/0986195200/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428844613&sr=8-1&keywords=love+of+the+summerfields" target="_blank">Love of the Summerfields,</a> </em>which is set in an English manor house--and after being a Downton Abbey fanatic since Mary and Edith first argued--I became aware of the details and delicacies of proper etiquette. <br />
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ETIQUETTE: The act of behaving in an utterly proper way so you won't get your hand slapped or be shunned from the members of society who made up the rules which are almost impossible to follow.<br />
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Here are some gems from <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Essential-Handbook-Victorian-Entertaining/dp/0912517549/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428843944&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Essential+Handbook+of+Victorian+Entertaining" target="_blank">The Essential Handbook of Victorian Entertaining</a></em> (adapted by Autumn Stephens) with a few asides from me.<br />
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• Do not dress above your station; it is a grievous mistake, and leads to great evils, besides being the proof of a complete lack of taste. <em>So we're to dress down? I hardly think "slovenly" would be appreciated.</em><br />
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• Do not expose the neck and arms at a dinner party. These should be covered, if not by the dress itself, then by lace or muslin overwaist. <em>How about a nice plaid stadium blanket?</em><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqOgEv39fqAKCbz3-dhsDJ94FqHBfnYnEviZp8OGqNo6X4lgLwr_D11UIhBxmuPi23aAku6SDeNeUK8HjpSQATD55MF-uuoQdZEJ1Wu6XzE4Ju-B1geDqEqxx9M_Ljj2XAo1zT5uUG_5N/s1600/victorian+dinner+2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqOgEv39fqAKCbz3-dhsDJ94FqHBfnYnEviZp8OGqNo6X4lgLwr_D11UIhBxmuPi23aAku6SDeNeUK8HjpSQATD55MF-uuoQdZEJ1Wu6XzE4Ju-B1geDqEqxx9M_Ljj2XAo1zT5uUG_5N/s320/victorian+dinner+2.bmp" ox="true" /></a>• Do not fail to try the effect of your dress by gaslight and daylight both. Many a color that may look well in daylight may look extremely ugly in gaslight. <em>But facial lines and wrinkles look marvelous!</em><br />
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• When a gentleman is invited out for the evening, or when he hosts an evening entertainment himself, he is under no embarrassment as to what he shall wear. The unvarying uniform is black pants, waistcoat, and jacket, with white tie, shirt, and gloves. <em>How about jeans and a tee-shirt? Or the ever popular khakis and a polo shirt? </em><br />
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• Prior to the dinner party, the hostess will acquaint herself with the social standing of each guest. If necessary, she may consult a reference volume, such as Who's Who. She then pairs each gentleman guest with a lady guest of equivalent social status. <em>Does consulting Facebook and You Tube count?</em><br />
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• A few well-chosen words of praise for any dish that you happen to know is a matter of pride to your hostess will be well received. As a rule, however, the fewer remarks about your food, the better. <em>Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub? Or how about "These Doritos are simply divine!"</em><br />
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• Do not hesitate what to take when a dish is passed to you. Nothing displays a lack of breeding more than not to know your own mind in trifles. <em>Trifles? Is that in the same family as truffles?</em><br />
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• Do not refuse to take the last piece of bread of cake; it looks as though you imagined there might be no more. <em>Hey now.</em> <em>If the plate's empty in my house, there ain't no more. And the last slice is mine.</em><br />
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• Do not carry anything like food with you from the table. <em>Anything "like" food? I suppose a doggie bag is out of the question.</em><br />
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• Never leave the table before the end of the dinner, unless from urgent necessity. <em>I won't go there</em>.<br />
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• Young ladies seldom drink more than three glasses of wine at dinner; but married ladies who are engaged in a profession, such as authors and teachers, and those accustomed to society and the habits of affluence, will habitually take five or even six, whether in their own home or at the tables of their friends. <em>Who are these winos? And who's the designated driver?</em><br />
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• Do not wear gloves at the table. <em>I wouldn't think of it. I can't lick my fingers with gloves on.</em><br />
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• Be moderate in the quantity you eat. You impair your health by overloading the stomach, and render yourself dull and stupid for hours after the meal. <em>Which gives you no out for being dull and stupid during the meal. And since the antidote for overeating is napping, I'm all for it.</em><br />
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All kidding aside, I grieve the loss of manners and etiquette. Baseball hats in restaurants incense me and I want to kiss any man who holds a door open for me. Actually, nowadays we need a new set of rules:<br />
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• No phone calls or texts while driving or dining. Or while in line. And if you can't talk on a cell phone without shouting, go outside. <br />
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• No tank tops on men. Ever. And especially not at a meal. <br />
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• Regarding gum: no popping, clicking, chomping, or blowing bubbles. And if I can see it in your mouth when you talk, you're toast.<br />
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• Never (ever) bring a full sized pillow on a plane. <br />
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• Unless you are a toddler, never (ever) wear pajama pants in public--including on a plane.<br />
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• If "muffin-top" applies to your figure, do not wear skin-tight tops or show skin. Even if you're skinny don't show me your midriff.<br />
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<li>Leggings are <em>not </em>pants, and need a blouse or top that is long enough to cover your bottom. If your top doesn't touch the tops of your legs, it's too short to wear with leggings.</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOIRtisztgPlUJMCn55aQVuICoFcWHpXq9yNdYNe8zzGDUz8OLUxPEXvW3vNGMP6tVyFejD8x9-H0nIubKcM4PMWN4ebJVObDr7rPUBUOyzJpbZn4lTEyddSb8SKAyx1TMFin0o16l_FK/s1600/baby+headphones.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOIRtisztgPlUJMCn55aQVuICoFcWHpXq9yNdYNe8zzGDUz8OLUxPEXvW3vNGMP6tVyFejD8x9-H0nIubKcM4PMWN4ebJVObDr7rPUBUOyzJpbZn4lTEyddSb8SKAyx1TMFin0o16l_FK/s1600/baby+headphones.png" height="200" width="133" /></a><br />
• Flip-flops don't belong in church.<br />
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• Thank you notes are still necessary. Whether emailed or snail-mailed, say thank you. Your mama will be so proud.<br />
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• If you must have music blasted into your brain every second of the day, get those headphones that keep it to yourself. Earbuds aren't private and secondary music is annoying. And BTW, if you have music blasted into your brain every second of the day, your brain has no chance to think a real thought. Think about it. Or try to.<br />
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My list was longer than I thought it would be (and could be longer.) What are some of your etiquette requests?//Nancy MoserBrenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-89609107878720736392015-02-13T09:10:00.000-06:002015-02-13T16:11:39.115-06:00Civil War in Missouri, the Oliver Anderson House, battlefield hospital<div style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4599990844727px; margin-bottom: 1.35em;">
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<span style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Posted:</span> 11 Feb 2015 10:00 PM PST</div>
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<i style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">A Footnote from History by Stephanie Grace Whitson</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small; line-height: 14.1999998092651px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14.1999998092651px;">"Maggie didn’t know how long it had been since John had screamed at her to go back to safety in the rear. He’d been astride Blue and he’d kept going, tearing across the battlefield ... She’d watched with a horrible kind of fascination as Blue galloped away, willing both horse and rider to somehow fill only the spaces between the bullets. And then, when Colt dropped out of sight, she’d looked down at the boy she was tending and was jerked back to another terrible reality ... </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14.1999998092651px;">The boy was staring up at her with panic in his eyes, and with everything that was in her, Maggie mustered kindness and an expression that she desperately willed to feign hope ... </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14.1999998092651px;">“Look at me, Private. You aren’t alone. The Good Lord is here and so is Maggie Malone. Neither of us is leaving you.” (Excerpted from <i style="line-height: 14.1999998092651px;">Daughter of the Regiment</i>)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">In 1853, Kentuckian Oliver Anderson had this beautiful house built overlooking the Missouri River near Lexington, Missouri,</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">in the heart of a rich agricultural center where planters raised hemp, tobacco, and fine cattle. With its 15-foot ceilings and 15-foot-wide central hallway, the house is an example of the kinds of mansions prosperous, slave-holding Southerners were building in Missouri in the 1840s and 1850s. None of the outbuildings survive, but there would have been a carriage house, a horse barn, a summer kitchen, and slave quarters. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8904xFAzRJgDuB68u3SvwP1gZV6rMuhe6GxPCM3EwicWE6KtwY3gzGI7cLuLeAkzbHgkRPm08_XMNOBxHIUBHpbqBSiN0db-2oJmfZbVOAR_aSa005jj0-wULzocxwzhE8Z5CTJKe8o/s1600/Negro+Boys+at+Auction.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8904xFAzRJgDuB68u3SvwP1gZV6rMuhe6GxPCM3EwicWE6KtwY3gzGI7cLuLeAkzbHgkRPm08_XMNOBxHIUBHpbqBSiN0db-2oJmfZbVOAR_aSa005jj0-wULzocxwzhE8Z5CTJKe8o/s1600/Negro+Boys+at+Auction.JPG" height="143" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">In the fall of 1859, financial woes forced Anderson to auction off all his real estate, his personal property, and his slaves. His sons purchased the house, enabling their parents to live there until the eve of the Civil War.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"><br style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;" /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">When the Civil War broke out, Unionists in Missouri quickly gained the upper hand. With the Missouri River strategically vital for the movement of troops and supplies, Federal troops occupied Lexington in July of 1861 and </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">confiscated the Anderson House for use as a hospital. Local tradition says that Anderson refused to take the Union-imposed oath of loyalty. He subsequently left Lexington (Anderson died in Kentucky in 1873). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"><br style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;" /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">In August of 1861, when the Battle of Wilson's Creek near Springfield set the stage for a rebel offensive into the heart of the Missouri River valley, the Anderson house was at the heart of the action. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The battle map shows the house in green and various military positions in red. The Battle of Lexington was waged over three days in September. Battle damage to the house is still visible today, both on the exterior brick walls and on interior walls.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaQ_3xdOUiF_lPI-2lF0w3t-8tqPea4HmadvhemnyITd2P6ZE1kA8qh-KyQheHMOkYNR4w8xNPGg5rwQL882XUfZd2Ld3EE8R0LGqg2ZNPrxJFUom6fC8nDlWaD54RtTYagbtrkacvf0/s1600/bullets+in+wall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiaQ_3xdOUiF_lPI-2lF0w3t-8tqPea4HmadvhemnyITd2P6ZE1kA8qh-KyQheHMOkYNR4w8xNPGg5rwQL882XUfZd2Ld3EE8R0LGqg2ZNPrxJFUom6fC8nDlWaD54RtTYagbtrkacvf0/s1600/bullets+in+wall.jpg" height="148" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Battle damage to the house is still visible today, both on the exterior brick walls and on interior walls. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZM_PVJBySYWkThb532S5x4MYEPNfXs6DyiwSln9wew2ebMQuG3D7h7NSc6zDLuNpNBHV_6e6csKYcF9RayKl2qsSHjZNVdDbO37m8u-QSNIE0RfY141jEW5rSirHCkKoa74PmJx7uQY/s1600/both+hallways.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZM_PVJBySYWkThb532S5x4MYEPNfXs6DyiwSln9wew2ebMQuG3D7h7NSc6zDLuNpNBHV_6e6csKYcF9RayKl2qsSHjZNVdDbO37m8u-QSNIE0RfY141jEW5rSirHCkKoa74PmJx7uQY/s1600/both+hallways.JPG" height="200" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">The house changed hands three times on September 18, 1861, the first day of the Battle of Lexington. That day, three Southern soldiers died at the base of the grand staircase in the main hall.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Visitors who venture away from the house to walk the battlefield encounter this small burial plot designated for five unknown Union soldiers whose remains were found during excavations in 1932 near the site of the building that was used as Union headquarters during the siege of Lexington. The men were likely part of Colonel Thomas A. Marshall's cavalry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">The southern victory at the </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Battle of Lexington made Major General Sterling Price a hero throughout the South. T</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">he Union responded <i style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">en masse</i> and eventually forced Price to retreat back to the southwestern corner of the state, returning Lexington and the Missouri River Valley to Union control.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">In 1958, the Anderson house and portions of the battlefield were donated to the Missouri state park system. See interior photos and learn more here: <a href="http://mostateparks.com/park/battle-lexington-state-historic-site" style="color: #000099; cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.4599990844727px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://mostateparks.com/park/battle-lexington-state-historic-site</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Have you visited any state historic sites in recent weeks? Did you enjoy your time there? Learn anything new? Share!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">The Oliver Anderson house and the Battle of Lexington played an important role in </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8VLrrpZJgxl6k5If5SKL9OKHXxQV20rYO8Oaj-74jSMHaTB6M3O5L1V24dAQlHxaF8YeRGRTldRCeWi7a6DvCypwE4Wl6ExhyIJNbouBiSmqdDqM_vjCAUfAO9chcPXVAscq3m4yAuo/s1600/Daughter+of+the+Regiment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU8VLrrpZJgxl6k5If5SKL9OKHXxQV20rYO8Oaj-74jSMHaTB6M3O5L1V24dAQlHxaF8YeRGRTldRCeWi7a6DvCypwE4Wl6ExhyIJNbouBiSmqdDqM_vjCAUfAO9chcPXVAscq3m4yAuo/s1600/Daughter+of+the+Regiment.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">inspiring <i style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Daughter of the Regiment</i>, Stephanie Grace Whitson's March, 2015 release. Stephanie has been </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">a full time novelist since 1994. Her studio is located in the lower level of her 1890s home--"the hired man's house"--in Lincoln, Nebraska. She enjoys learning about the real women who inspire her historical fiction, studying antique quilt history, riding her Honda Magna motorcycle named Kitty, and spending time with her extended family, grandchildren, and grand-dogs. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"><br style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;" /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Pre-order <i style="line-height: 18.4599990844727px;">Daughter of the Regiment</i> here:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4599990844727px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Daughter-Regiment-Stephanie-Grace-Whitson/dp/1455529036" style="color: #000099; cursor: pointer; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18.4599990844727px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/Daughter-Regiment-Stephanie-Grace-Whitson/dp/1455529036</a></span></div>
Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-26611706935389727772014-11-11T09:58:00.000-06:002014-11-11T09:59:29.553-06:00A Symbol of our Freedom for Veterans' Day<div style="border: currentColor;">
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<strong><span style="color: red; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">* A Note from Nancy *</span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIy9t90zW62Cb8-OISRP1lZmFxU9_aM40y67uGLtxq8Mkz9Uw-xEgRvtj0P2nM8Zo-bZGpP5Ywr0RWksSmTuHNG7fS1Np0w5iEedIurFBf_cmT0N1Vd21h83CkFji1gjKKCIyqpPRb_5DA/s1600/SOL_2.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIy9t90zW62Cb8-OISRP1lZmFxU9_aM40y67uGLtxq8Mkz9Uw-xEgRvtj0P2nM8Zo-bZGpP5Ywr0RWksSmTuHNG7fS1Np0w5iEedIurFBf_cmT0N1Vd21h83CkFji1gjKKCIyqpPRb_5DA/s320/SOL_2.bmp" height="320" nx="true" width="214" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On this Veterans Day we thank all our veterans who have served to protect and defend our country. My family has had a long line of veterans, from my dad in World War II, to a grandfather in World War I, to two great-grandfathers in the Civil War, and another "great" fighting in the Revolutionary War. God bless America!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Thinking of Veterans ignites a swell of patriotism in my breast. And <em>the </em>symbol of what our country stands for is the Statue of Liberty. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A month ago she celebrated her 128th birthday...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">October 1886. As we all learned in grammar school, the Statue was a gift from the people of France to the people of the United States, to celebrate the friendship between the two countries that was started during the American Revolution. Basically, if it weren’t for France sending ships and men to help our cause, we all might be talking with a British accent. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguesBXzRgSV7xPLwP7xScvXpQj_3g5PfEuaqQ20QgusppQxcX0QpfU3tgZGZunvJmJWQdbJ317ewL0Dof7dmZlI5l1OkWHcetY_NopzhgcwdLB7_OmylSHQIfdPrPVEyna4DILRovmBLwP/s1600/StatueOfLibertyCloseup-paris-photos-paris-nightlife-rmc-image-1001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguesBXzRgSV7xPLwP7xScvXpQj_3g5PfEuaqQ20QgusppQxcX0QpfU3tgZGZunvJmJWQdbJ317ewL0Dof7dmZlI5l1OkWHcetY_NopzhgcwdLB7_OmylSHQIfdPrPVEyna4DILRovmBLwP/s200/StatueOfLibertyCloseup-paris-photos-paris-nightlife-rmc-image-1001.jpg" height="134" nx="true" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Statue was supposed to come about in 1876, to commemorate the centennial of the Declaration of Independence, but funding issues—on both sides of the Atlantic—made for an ten year delay. The deal was, France would give us the statue and assemble it, and we would build the base to put it on. </span> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBZ6b0ZsXYa292UKgEsvBJnN057IABm_uRO7wXkXlgoBu8qDzvWoTrVPvj44wOCQVCPHT8QBRgtkqvv99kSTF69uAoShUDjbgTLA5WwJav2a80oYdjXJ-dt4E4eBhsVushLNVepRSBEy6/s1600/libertyconstruction1880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZBZ6b0ZsXYa292UKgEsvBJnN057IABm_uRO7wXkXlgoBu8qDzvWoTrVPvj44wOCQVCPHT8QBRgtkqvv99kSTF69uAoShUDjbgTLA5WwJav2a80oYdjXJ-dt4E4eBhsVushLNVepRSBEy6/s320/libertyconstruction1880.jpg" height="222" nx="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note the hand on its side</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSp3EHcvbgw-jj_YIf2xUKJBF0bNkOpZBBj1BKC6l68WQtCUathurzgKyarF8GtENtgxG9FO36eFt6eZMWFWOeksZot05DIxpO2ZI1Jwr3CGlOhDUE1Lsr5n2SzwO79V_4zszWK-wCpZj/s1600/libertyparis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibSp3EHcvbgw-jj_YIf2xUKJBF0bNkOpZBBj1BKC6l68WQtCUathurzgKyarF8GtENtgxG9FO36eFt6eZMWFWOeksZot05DIxpO2ZI1Jwr3CGlOhDUE1Lsr5n2SzwO79V_4zszWK-wCpZj/s320/libertyparis.jpg" height="320" nx="true" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Assembled in France</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9iwGbVNnFl5j4V7jQ0Wj3TSAxcDvsdEc0oz5x5AKVsj7p1l5caHUfNvL8gzALGDOAPrEg5okaGcDCTH1-oKqbVqGlRGzpK2erbUTa70vi4OuzZ5fFViWDnBZI2udvJ2XSSvFrmSp8U58/s1600/statue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9iwGbVNnFl5j4V7jQ0Wj3TSAxcDvsdEc0oz5x5AKVsj7p1l5caHUfNvL8gzALGDOAPrEg5okaGcDCTH1-oKqbVqGlRGzpK2erbUTa70vi4OuzZ5fFViWDnBZI2udvJ2XSSvFrmSp8U58/s320/statue.jpg" height="320" nx="true" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reassembled in America</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">To spur Americans to donate, Joseph Pulitzer (of the Pulitzer Prize) used his newspaper, “The World” to shame people into giving. He got after the rich for not giving more, and got after the middle class for relying on the rich to do the giving. It worked.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYjW8_8s4gHcWfi8sqGI89sUEcHsl5fLkldbRmEFfB9oMNtPD9Bsqw7NsbTVqRkVYgB6hJg42m-l8W7d7Qheq8cW07J1lmOVwCv6HWks7qUiW9aX4goB2SuXy1ZVU3FPZCBzTeadjgWIm/s1600/statue-of-liberty-construction5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNYjW8_8s4gHcWfi8sqGI89sUEcHsl5fLkldbRmEFfB9oMNtPD9Bsqw7NsbTVqRkVYgB6hJg42m-l8W7d7Qheq8cW07J1lmOVwCv6HWks7qUiW9aX4goB2SuXy1ZVU3FPZCBzTeadjgWIm/s320/statue-of-liberty-construction5.jpg" height="205" nx="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A foot bigger than mine!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">he sculptor was Frederic Auguste Bartholdi, who asked Gustave Eiffel (the designer of the Eiffel Tower) to figure out the iron framework underneath the copper plating—which was only 3/32” thick.</span> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBI3vgPsK4Hvz0nR5nbYjsc8gTsCULUx8GjStLTWz9c7o5vHWCGkGA4jg1tnpZ_U2FRBFsGUcxR8paga_KNvH0mWDm16s0Fq3-1lG7D3KGgkq5I0-fLxuDxQRIOh5sDjVe5aARcK0xJFNc/s1600/SOL_3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBI3vgPsK4Hvz0nR5nbYjsc8gTsCULUx8GjStLTWz9c7o5vHWCGkGA4jg1tnpZ_U2FRBFsGUcxR8paga_KNvH0mWDm16s0Fq3-1lG7D3KGgkq5I0-fLxuDxQRIOh5sDjVe5aARcK0xJFNc/s320/SOL_3.jpg" height="320" nx="true" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The torch on display in Paris</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Statue was put together in Paris, dismantled into 350 pieces, and packed into 214 crates. Parts of the statue were displayed in Paris during the construction. It took four months to put it all back together.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The presence of the Statue in the harbor--Lady Liberty greeting the influx of millions of immigrants--made her evolve into a symbol of freedom and hope. In 1883, Emily Lazarus wrote the poem “The New Colossus” for an auction to raise money for the pedestal. Only after her death was the poem married with the Statue. Since 1903 the poem has been on a plaque at the foot of the statue. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2caS6JrQDD3UE1LdpMPg9fBv4FhcG9PmWjAN2cNdyyZLz62Iw6zRwA05CPISn5Jy6_ldDMYQn6BgRwrOCru_S9fihVSzSwTsx3gY6mlEx4BVkhrxdyrYwmGnHhDKhvIDkhQBlFY7tco4/s1600/C.W.+Jefferys+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq2caS6JrQDD3UE1LdpMPg9fBv4FhcG9PmWjAN2cNdyyZLz62Iw6zRwA05CPISn5Jy6_ldDMYQn6BgRwrOCru_S9fihVSzSwTsx3gY6mlEx4BVkhrxdyrYwmGnHhDKhvIDkhQBlFY7tco4/s320/C.W.+Jefferys+painting.jpg" height="400" nx="true" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">C.W. Jefferys painting</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,</em></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>With conquering limbs astride from land to land;</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,</em></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,</em></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.</em></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,</em></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"</em></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Enjoy the photos, and remember all she stood for—and has come to stand for.//Nancy </span>Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-90431974545676994782014-11-01T00:00:00.000-06:002014-11-01T00:00:03.364-06:00A Pioneer's Ghost Story <div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
The Ghost Story<o:p></o:p></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;"> Reprinted from a 1912 edition of <i>Pioneer Tales of the Oregon Trail and of
Jefferson County </i>by Charles Dawson.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;">This
reprinting is an exact
reproduction of the original with the exception of a few nods to more modern
punctuation and paragraph formatting, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;">solely for the purpose of making the text more accessible to
readers in 2014. Submitted by Stephanie Grace Whitson</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 8.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Jdpr0u5oHVheF3HWLfcp0-jqYm6ib43bCRapJo8BF5glsg5cqn3-do0d9jTG1_ryowghkIxIz7uDLY5wT9ckBLINcLhCyaGiD41jk4gVCpKzH7EdABKdndVqR80kHMsIVPqKMeo_ZK0/s1600/Angel+Sprinkling+Stars.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Jdpr0u5oHVheF3HWLfcp0-jqYm6ib43bCRapJo8BF5glsg5cqn3-do0d9jTG1_ryowghkIxIz7uDLY5wT9ckBLINcLhCyaGiD41jk4gVCpKzH7EdABKdndVqR80kHMsIVPqKMeo_ZK0/s1600/Angel+Sprinkling+Stars.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a> Without
attempt to uphold the beliefs of the superstitious, a ghost story is
chronicled. Nearly every community has in its story-lore, some weird tale of
people or things that assumes the aspect of the supernatural. Seemingly, all
people, regardless of their beliefs, relish the relation of such tales; so the
story is submitted on its own merits, just as it was told, leaving the reader
to draw his own conclusions. An old settler gives the story, as follows:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In
the late [18]60’s, wife and I with our bunch of tow-headed youngsters were headed
westward, traveling by ox-team, in a canvas-topped wagon, bound for Nebraska,
in response to the solicitations of my father, who had settled there a few
years previously. Crossing the Missouri river in the early days of spring, at
St. Joseph, we joined one of the first caravans of emigrants going westward
over the Old Oregon Trail. Traveling over the wonderful prairies and through
the rich valleys of eastern Kansas, we had our ideas of the Great American
Desert rudely but pleasantly shattered. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In
due time we reached our destination, and encamped on the tract of land that had
been selected for us, which was a well-timbered and watered body of land, lying
along a spring-fed stream, that ran back into a valley which was flanked on the
sides by frowning bluffs capped by ledges of sandstone. As the first tints of
green began to appear to bedeck the landscape it was a wonderful sight to
witness the unfolding of such picturesque scenery, the like of which we had
never seen before.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Our
new home lay about half-way between the Old Trail and the Little Blue river,
but this is all I will tell you, for ghosts and their haunts should not be too
definitely located, as it might spoil their charms or the veracity, if there be
any.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
We
immediately commenced the building of a home, and, with the aid of my relatives
and neighbors, contrived to erect a habitable log cabin, a one-room affair with
a loft above, with a clapboard roof, provided with a mud-and-stick chimney, with
a stone fireplace at one end. Compared with our previous places of habitation
and modes of living this seemed at first to be very primitive and almost
unendurable, but before long we grew to regard this homely little log cabin as
the coziest place it had been our pleasure to reside in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With
the coming of the warm days of spring, we broke out the little flats of land
along the creek bottom, and planted them with corn, potatoes, melons, etc.
Gardens were made, and we entered into the cultivation of our promising crops,
hoping to reap an abundance for our needs. Nature had by now fully bedecked the
whole panorama with a wonderful profusion of foliage, blossom, and color. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Our
little world seemed to be filled to overflowing with promise and happiness.
Strawberry-time had come. The hillsides were apparently covered with the
patches of red luscious fruit. One Sabbath morning, wife and I, light of heart,
arms in arm, set out to roam the hillsides to gather a pailful of strawberries.
We were soon in the midst of a profusion of strawberries, so plentiful, full
and ripe on all sides of us, that we ran here and there, trampling under foot
many berries, in our greed to secure the nicest ones.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Our
pail was soon full to the brim, and our fingers and lips stained from picking
and eating, till we were forced to desist, for want of further capacity. Then,
feeling the tire of contented satisfaction, we sat down upon a convenient rock,
lazily viewing the surrounding scenery, resting before we would attempt our
home-bound journey. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With
half-closed eyes lying back on the big shaded ledge of stone, my thoughts were
dwelling on the incidents of the short past, in which we had left the comforts
of civilization and had taken up our abode in this the land of promise,
thinking how content we were; and just as I began to conjecture the future, I
was aroused by the exclamation of the wife, who was now pointing across the
rock-walled ravine to a springy spot, shaded by scattered clumps of underbrush.
Brushing aside the sleepy tangles of my eyes, I noted the cause of her
excitement, which I first thought might be Indians. Underneath and in the
tangles of green were berries—strawberries of great size and blood-red color,
rivaling even the choices of the tame ones we had seen in the gardens of our
Eastern homes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Leaving
our already filled pail, we hastened over to view the wonderful sight. Picking
and eating the first few that we came to, we decided to take some home in my
old hat and in the wife’s apron; so, with many ejaculations of wonder and
surprise, we filled these articles, and as I strode through a thick tangle of
brush in leaving the patch, my foot caught on an object which threw me to the
ground, and on turning over, seeking to arise, I found at my feet the skull of
a human being. Leaping to my feet, I rushed out of the thicket almost
completely unnerved at my ghastly find. Wife witnessing my stumble and
following movements, ran back towards me, inquiring with alarm the cause of
this unusual action. Together we walked back, and I pointed to the eyeless bare
skull that was apparently grinning at us from his mouldy moss-covered retreat
from which my foot had ruthlessly torn him but a moment before. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Proceeding
into the thicket to investigate more fully, we found that underneath the leafy
and moulding foliages of the past seasons which had covered their bodies like
that of the “Babes in the Wood” were the bones of many other persons. In fact,
our strawberry patch had been the burial-ground of the unknown dead. Wife and
I, stilled by the presence of the dead, stood with bowed heads, silently
offered up prayers to Him on high, who alone could give the solution of this mystery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Glancing
up, I met the gaze of my wife, and with one accord my old hat was overturned
and the corners of her apron were dropped and the berries spilled on the
ground. For we both knew without further questioning, what had caused the
berries to be so big and red.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Then
we made a thorough search thereabout for the bones of the unknown dead,
faithfully gathering the bones as they lay, endeavoring to give each skull its
own and full complement of bones. Finally we felt that this duty had been
performed, and the result was twelve skeletons, which we judged were a party of
emigrants, men, women and children. After considerable labor, a grave was dug
and the bones placed within, and filled up with earth and stones covering the
top to mark and protect the grave. Thoroughly tired by our toil, we wended our
way homeward, conscious that we had fulfilled our duty to those poor
unfortunate beings by giving them at least a burial. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
After
the supper meal was partaken and we had gathered on the doorstep in the twilight
of the evening, we began to feel content and at peace with all fellow-beings;
then there came an uncanny, weird moan or cry, like that of a woman or child in
the depth of anguish or despair. Listening in awe, I awaited the repetition of
that mournful sound. Soon it came, now in the fringe of trees about the cabin,
then in the waist-high corn. Swift recalling the incidents of that day, I tried
to assure myself that it was not real, that this was but the result of a
befuddled mind, just imagination; but the children now were questioning us as
to the cry, and upon receiving non-committal answers, and perhaps reading our
faces, they grew frightened and began to cry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
To
assert myself and to allay their fears I arose and said to the wife, “Hand me
my rifle and I will go down there and shoot that old, tree-toad, or whatever it
may be.” Leaving the wife and children on the porch, I proceeded to search
about in the growing corn, around the barn and all through the near-by
underbrush, but without result, although I seemed to be following the voice
from point to point. Finally it seemed to be at the cabin. Hastening there, I
found that my family had fled within and had barred the door. Undaunted, I
continued the search, following the clues from when I heard the voice. After
vain attempts which led me to the roof, around and underneath the cabin, I
contracted the same feelings of the rest of the family, and called for
admittance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
There
was not much sleep for us that night, for we could hear the cries of our
unearthly visitor at frequent intervals, till the early dawn of the morning.
Night after night we had much the same experience until we grew accustomed to
it and were but little disturbed. Our neighbors joined with us on several
occasions to find the mysterious visitor, but despite the most exacting vigils
and search, we gave it up, for not one single object or reason could be found
that might be suspected of making the nightly occurring sounds, which the
neighbors dubbed “The Lost Woman Ghost.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The
summer wore on, succeeded by the bountiful autumn harvests. We should have been
happy and content, but the “nightly visitor” had worn our nerves, so after the
harvest had been gathered, I was only too glad to sanction the wife’s
suggestion that we go and live with my father down on the Little Blue river,
for the winter, as it was too lonesome away up here by ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
We
spent the long winter down there, hunting and trapping, returning occasionally
to see if everything was all right at our homestead, but never staying overnight,
so we did not know if our unwelcome guest had departed or not. With the opening
days of spring, we moved back, for our crops must be planted and tended, and
the first night of our return was celebrated by the usual performance of the
unseen voice. Of course this was annoying, but what could we do? Then there was
no harm resulting, so we settled down, accepting the situation as best we
could. Strawberry-picking time came
again, and we started out once more to search the hillsides and ravines for the
big red berries. Our wanderings brought us to the burial-place of the unknown
party of people that we had found just one year ago. Here we stood for a moment
with bared heads in reverence, swiftly recalling the incidents of their past as
we knew of them, praying that we might in some way learn who they were, so that
their relatives might know of their fate, and as we realized the improbability
of this, we turned away with dimmed eyes, and continued to ascend the hill. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Upon
reaching the top, we sat down upon a large flat boulder to rest. The whole
panorama lay spread out at our feet, and across the ravine to our right was a
hillside almost mountainous in appearance, cut and intersticed by irregular,
rock-filled canyons and gorges, down which trickling spring-fed streams flowed,
the rock-strewn hillside being covered with straggling growths of dwarfed oaks
and hackberry trees, with the hill itself rising high to the blue sky-line,
capped with heavy ledge of brown sandstone, irregularly set, cracked and fissured
deeply with dark recesses underneath the many overhanging shelves, which
suggested ideal retreats for wild animal life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As
we searched with our eyes every part of its face for some new wonder of
formation, a ghastly sight came to our vision—the skeleton of a human being. On
closer investigation we found it to be that of a woman, huddled in a crouched,
squatting position, back against the wall of a cavern-like place, seemingly as
though she had taken refuge here, only to be found, and had raised her arms to
ward off the blow that had stilled her life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Tenderly
we gathered up the bones and carried them down to the burial-place, and
interred them with the rest, whom we judged to have been her companions. That
afternoon was spent in the search for others that might be lying unburied on
the hillsides, but the search proved fruitless; our only find bein<o:p></o:p></div>
g a few
piles of fire-warped wagon-irons and charred wood-work, near which lay bones of
oxen, many having the wooden yokes still around their necks. A few arrows were
found scattered about in these piles of bones, so we knew that this was the
work of Indians.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In
the twilight of that evening I sat upon the broad doorstep of our cabin,
thinking of all these things, the part that we had played and who these people
might be; then came the though, could there be any connection between them and
the ghostly visitor? If so, perhaps it would give me an answer tonight. Though
I waited and meditated long into the night I was in one way disappointed, for
the voice came not—not alone that night, but never afterwards. So to me the
mystery has deepened as they years have gone by. Was this the spirit of the
murdered woman beseeching me to bury her bones beside those we had previously
buried, who no doubt had met a similar fate? I hope so, and if this gave rest
to the Soul, let it be the end.<o:p></o:p></div>
Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-50251068267849219262014-10-15T15:37:00.000-05:002014-10-16T06:32:28.166-05:00Epitaphs and a free Ghost Story from 1912<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Steph's turn to blog (scroll down for the free offer)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFCzJ9cpMCys6KvfPzoENNIFTDN2AN2LMZQo9uuJ2ZoACEYPwRB7r3dH3Vn5fjBx-GlJxJJBBm_I91WftTIpLvsQ6GSP9H3gjwkcvZlhJl20HmyCMUs6yIShMvvxOWwJDX28-9ZfQpqI/s1600/Bronze+bas+relief+hooded+woman+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFCzJ9cpMCys6KvfPzoENNIFTDN2AN2LMZQo9uuJ2ZoACEYPwRB7r3dH3Vn5fjBx-GlJxJJBBm_I91WftTIpLvsQ6GSP9H3gjwkcvZlhJl20HmyCMUs6yIShMvvxOWwJDX28-9ZfQpqI/s1600/Bronze+bas+relief+hooded+woman+-+Copy.JPG" height="200" width="148" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Halloween seems to be a time when folks develop a somewhat macabre interest in cemeteries and tombstones, but my interest in these things isn't seasonal, and it isn't really macabre. I've sought out pioneer cemeteries and the stories hidden behind the epitaphs since I was a girl tromping about with my family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I was working on A Captain for Laura Rose (<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://tinyurl.com/n2ykr2f">http://tinyurl.com/n2ykr2f</a>)</span> I spent some time exploring a St. Louis cemetery, led there by mention of steamboat pilot, Isaiah Sellers (Mark Twain knew him!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgS-4PgB7b5_CvbCzbF4eBTq0ZDOh4JonRKAd7xba1qJUYY-y5K2UpIzDUf7gt4IgrUi8yK7eNMq7iNNTM8DmVb7b3nTnv0Mxn-u-VlhQzLNRk7Q21ml15IqZaL8doMEdM1zjJJdrHms/s1600/099658pr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOgS-4PgB7b5_CvbCzbF4eBTq0ZDOh4JonRKAd7xba1qJUYY-y5K2UpIzDUf7gt4IgrUi8yK7eNMq7iNNTM8DmVb7b3nTnv0Mxn-u-VlhQzLNRk7Q21ml15IqZaL8doMEdM1zjJJdrHms/s1600/099658pr.jpg" height="200" width="158" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> This past year I even developed a program to give on these "Stories in Stone." Who wouldn't admire the artistry present in the stonework, zinc, and bronze forms used in memorials across the centuries. I'm also moved by the epitaphs (I tend to collect them).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>In 1904</b>, this epitaph was cast into a bronze plaque mounted on a granite boulder:</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Warm summer sun, shine kindly here,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Warm southern wind, blow softly here,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Green sod above, lie light, lie light,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Good night, dear heart, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Good night, Good night.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AkS4q6X-QyjOLIhc9kHxIezPRab4qrDGvm7AX__PWKKb5bZdVleXO7Z24HTf7AX4chRaeUw9b_0Zn4aCRr3k9bjkOODZueSc4k6QdCxmEtqfmMd31Tf-N7H6Wo7O9CiWnkUjaB-_Hlg/s1600/Angel+close-up+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></span></a><br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AkS4q6X-QyjOLIhc9kHxIezPRab4qrDGvm7AX__PWKKb5bZdVleXO7Z24HTf7AX4chRaeUw9b_0Zn4aCRr3k9bjkOODZueSc4k6QdCxmEtqfmMd31Tf-N7H6Wo7O9CiWnkUjaB-_Hlg/s1600/Angel+close-up+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AkS4q6X-QyjOLIhc9kHxIezPRab4qrDGvm7AX__PWKKb5bZdVleXO7Z24HTf7AX4chRaeUw9b_0Zn4aCRr3k9bjkOODZueSc4k6QdCxmEtqfmMd31Tf-N7H6Wo7O9CiWnkUjaB-_Hlg/s1600/Angel+close-up+-+Copy.JPG" height="200" width="148" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>In 1876</b>, this epitaph tossed a bit of realism at anyone who happened to pass the grave:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear companion remember me,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I am now, so you must be</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Prepare for death and follow me.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This one <b>from 1895</b> made me wonder about the life it sums up in a rather acerbic manner:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She hath done what she could.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We don't often associate <b>a sense of humor</b> with epitaphs, but in Kentucky a woman's epitaph gives an order: "Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not here. I did not die." Her husband's epitaph asks a question: "If we didn't die, what are we doing here?" I imagine these two were the life of every party they attended!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXBHLcHQaMW1lrt0-JXH50EU2he9e44NaUguT3MKRlVinsBCGmSrW8RRCCSWGe0g3kyiQZWwAnEfRrgZ-Fp2qXx1SdMR0xPE5Hme_WdTKDcX8ZZKZInLvkac_j7XJYgWauNSdu_k4OAY/s1600/Celtic+Cross.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXBHLcHQaMW1lrt0-JXH50EU2he9e44NaUguT3MKRlVinsBCGmSrW8RRCCSWGe0g3kyiQZWwAnEfRrgZ-Fp2qXx1SdMR0xPE5Hme_WdTKDcX8ZZKZInLvkac_j7XJYgWauNSdu_k4OAY/s1600/Celtic+Cross.JPG" height="200" width="148" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>One of my favorites</b> is short and simple, but there is a world of story in the message:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Born to die, August 4, 1840</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Died to live May 30 1878</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This reminds me of the epitaph I'll have put on my tombstone one day. It's part of a lovely poem written by Calvin Miller:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Graves are only doorways cut in sod,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And dying is but getting dressed for God.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Are you like me? Do you enjoy wandering old cemeteries and wondering about the stories represented by the grave markers? What's your favorite or most memorable discovery?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">____________________________</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__w2-4S__Hzg1imPlZOQ6hyX6hLG05Z9oXnsZlFvZxNdX3ZX445hi2Y3FPahrGuWFjCF_wjGh1Ah5YMbihizxDRV7aotfJ4N4AfDpI88HP-Pab3V12vgcxn4zHDAIVRgc3TlzDmza0Ao/s1600/Death's%2BHead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh__w2-4S__Hzg1imPlZOQ6hyX6hLG05Z9oXnsZlFvZxNdX3ZX445hi2Y3FPahrGuWFjCF_wjGh1Ah5YMbihizxDRV7aotfJ4N4AfDpI88HP-Pab3V12vgcxn4zHDAIVRgc3TlzDmza0Ao/s1600/Death's+Head.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">PS: If you'd like a copy of a 1912 story originally told by a homesteader from Oregon Trail days, go to <a href="http://www.stephaniewhitson.com/">www.stephaniewhitson.com</a> and subscribe to my newsletter. Everyone on my mailing list will received the story in a special mailing sent out the first week of November. </span></div>
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<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">* A Note From Nancy *</span></strong></div>
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I am constantly losing my keys in my purse, along with my glasses, my Chapstick, my pens... <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border: currentColor; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ0ur-yzY0ZhXJ8YhVUY8TNoDIuMKYVLp_MobAT9FR_v3JtRHXqAwqYdwFmBH6RUv-4XUNpnX8UokqTAaYfX66jPCLwvwS4mb_OpTXQwFDuTpXRuAqMDvYdIRXjgg_wbQUHEWiA3qAlQv/s1600/nannywhistleBells_L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ0ur-yzY0ZhXJ8YhVUY8TNoDIuMKYVLp_MobAT9FR_v3JtRHXqAwqYdwFmBH6RUv-4XUNpnX8UokqTAaYfX66jPCLwvwS4mb_OpTXQwFDuTpXRuAqMDvYdIRXjgg_wbQUHEWiA3qAlQv/s200/nannywhistleBells_L.jpg" width="127" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="border: currentColor; text-align: center;">Nanny whistle, pacifier,<br />
and rattle in one</td></tr>
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When I did the research for my Gilded Age novels <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V2C4354?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_0&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank">Masquerade</a> </em>and <em><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V7SH44B?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank">An Unlikely Suitor</a></em>, I discovered their solution to this age-old "losing things" problem: chatelaines. These pieces of jewelry were the answer to organizing a woman's <em>stuff. </em> Whatever items women deemed necessary throughout their day were simply hung from chains and clipped to their waistbands or belts. </div>
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They were very specialized. Nannies had kid-stuff at their fingertips: a nanny whistle, pacifier, and rattle. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bzlwQkg9XvSS0vDEAN4vZd8flEM8uw0trlGX6YVXUIxU7waq72SEM2wqg110xhTSAL0v1lGxCN7tmGI13Bsl2Seg-PKYNip_v9-z9h2aUIdHGbw8aq4OeNl_hgAbh9vrELgeVIawtEU8/s1600/chatelaine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bzlwQkg9XvSS0vDEAN4vZd8flEM8uw0trlGX6YVXUIxU7waq72SEM2wqg110xhTSAL0v1lGxCN7tmGI13Bsl2Seg-PKYNip_v9-z9h2aUIdHGbw8aq4OeNl_hgAbh9vrELgeVIawtEU8/s200/chatelaine.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seamstress chatelaine</td></tr>
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Seamstresses had scissors, needles, thimbles, and bobbins of thread at their fingertips. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3BEGBBkdQKSOZdtGhh4aVR7YEnr2WV9L0gr6Ce6FkdSj5y7vhh7xJT-z-oc_cCXenvILR5rChoRWAtz_hiVtaVwA-MSpAYvBRT5QH12wAuAAGth4VnzuuDW-p5hEaZY6tfXQJgMUmomy/s1600/chat+TGSE00722_m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3BEGBBkdQKSOZdtGhh4aVR7YEnr2WV9L0gr6Ce6FkdSj5y7vhh7xJT-z-oc_cCXenvILR5rChoRWAtz_hiVtaVwA-MSpAYvBRT5QH12wAuAAGth4VnzuuDW-p5hEaZY6tfXQJgMUmomy/s320/chat+TGSE00722_m.jpg" width="187" /></a>Maids mights have keys, scissors . . . hmm. I can't see the details on this picture. What else might she have on her chains? <br />
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Fine ladies might have a small purse attached, perfume, mirror, and pencil. Or a watch. They were made of sterling or gold, with semi-precious stones.<br />
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As a collector of antique purses, I can vouch for the fact that purses of the day held next to nothing, and actually, the wealthy ladies had no need to carry money or keys. They rarely went out without their men, so relied on them to carry such things. Chatelaines were a nice (and pretty) way to carry around some bulkier items--and to show off some gold and stones as an accessory. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-YpsSbUvWvOA8mFBiKxyWrO-HTAjLb1ZcthndPUlWa7rFSf8kwm0Ttxf-Ql4N56Yyzggd0A9s5MVVHHTM8qHh_ud7qKt14EeIIq-ThbdX37koTx2serUZVHyLwH0NJypvOnLfZZmZkIS/s1600/Chat+1787-Le-Magasin-detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj-YpsSbUvWvOA8mFBiKxyWrO-HTAjLb1ZcthndPUlWa7rFSf8kwm0Ttxf-Ql4N56Yyzggd0A9s5MVVHHTM8qHh_ud7qKt14EeIIq-ThbdX37koTx2serUZVHyLwH0NJypvOnLfZZmZkIS/s200/Chat+1787-Le-Magasin-detail.jpg" width="155" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4j49q4H33ybgAzLzr8fRsfm9HQ1izJM3qNiYLlZrZl8a3ISZkGUvaytnXMM0X3PAi0QbSDwJKjXUr2gCcaPGrfkDSIqEv0rI1BiEeOtHuSPxoe9ZVkuju9L_VKK4Bmk9Ou3SNXmoBMEb/s1600/woman+with+chatelaine.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS4j49q4H33ybgAzLzr8fRsfm9HQ1izJM3qNiYLlZrZl8a3ISZkGUvaytnXMM0X3PAi0QbSDwJKjXUr2gCcaPGrfkDSIqEv0rI1BiEeOtHuSPxoe9ZVkuju9L_VKK4Bmk9Ou3SNXmoBMEb/s1600/woman+with+chatelaine.png" /></a>Plus, when I think about the logistics of carrying a purse, I see the advantage of the <br />
hands-off chatelaine. With bustles and gloves and parasols . . . a lady needed her hands free to deal with her clothes, getting in and out of carriages, holding up her skirt so as not to trip on stairs, and finding a way to sit and move through a room without getting caught on a stray table or Victorian gew-gaw.<br />
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Ah, the freedom we have in our fashion today! But a chatelaine . . . it has real possibilities.<br />
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If you'd like to take a look at hundreds of fashion examples from the Gilded Age go to my Pinterest fashion boards: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1870s-fashion-hello-bustle/" target="_blank">Fashion of the 1870's</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1880s-fashion-from-the-novel-masquerade/" target="_blank">Fashion of the 1880's</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1890s-fashion-from-an-unlikely-suitor-era/" target="_blank">Fashion of the 1890's</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/accessories-from-history-fans-gloves-hats-and-para/" target="_blank">Accessories</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/shoes-of-the-past/" target="_blank">Shoes of the Past</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/antique-purses/" target="_blank"> Antique Purses</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/what-a-lady-wore-beneath-it-all/" target="_blank">Historical Undergarments</a> Enjoy!<br />
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Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-7680333380729733952014-09-24T00:30:00.000-05:002020-01-30T08:53:21.264-06:00A Romantic Stroll along a Cliff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><strong>* A Note From Nancy *</strong></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6rQ-3RVgszoCOYl5ddv40TttxlnFxaec31esrHFaqHscmQlvKCFnfroe2cogPI-NucqJPro_nL_ZFvauPHT3ysfy84R2GKoZmfxIRs9B9eoik343kZ-n_zRD1qwjEyiwVxL5v7YkPGE9/s1600/on+cliff+walk+5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg6rQ-3RVgszoCOYl5ddv40TttxlnFxaec31esrHFaqHscmQlvKCFnfroe2cogPI-NucqJPro_nL_ZFvauPHT3ysfy84R2GKoZmfxIRs9B9eoik343kZ-n_zRD1qwjEyiwVxL5v7YkPGE9/s200/on+cliff+walk+5.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
The Cliff Walk… doesn’t it sound like the perfect place for a romance, or a Gothic tale? That’s one reason I chose it as an integral element in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V7SH44B?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank">An Unlikely Suitor</a>. Walking along its 3.5 mile length with my husband conjured up images of Newport in its prime, during the last half of the 19th century…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtuAZpT66LRApCguQZry4vObs8PApB8bXRBci5v1blkkAXq_Ez2oXQ8w19OEnyfX9cDLZvpnUlFd3_yLZ4Jp1428VS45VO99NaiEiTNDlP0gExm1e-Gm0bNmJDha5aRD68bZBPA-0GuyW/s1600/Unlikely+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1036" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtuAZpT66LRApCguQZry4vObs8PApB8bXRBci5v1blkkAXq_Ez2oXQ8w19OEnyfX9cDLZvpnUlFd3_yLZ4Jp1428VS45VO99NaiEiTNDlP0gExm1e-Gm0bNmJDha5aRD68bZBPA-0GuyW/s320/Unlikely+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLlR_0ZYJdaz3YHU8Rf4kDuDQtHXYQmU1kub_ZeLr8SbCcWL7cb1ibWr4HoRob1TxelneYVBcm9ga2eUzjvLR68g-_bVC84L7dszJ2ehvHQS3viDkuf3jmINH9R_HbEiC9VsIvolozDRm/s1600/cliff+walk+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNLlR_0ZYJdaz3YHU8Rf4kDuDQtHXYQmU1kub_ZeLr8SbCcWL7cb1ibWr4HoRob1TxelneYVBcm9ga2eUzjvLR68g-_bVC84L7dszJ2ehvHQS3viDkuf3jmINH9R_HbEiC9VsIvolozDRm/s200/cliff+walk+3.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
The nice thing about nature is that the basics remain the same. And so the essence of the Cliff Walk remains much as it was so long ago. Considering Newport has been around since 1639, the original paths along the shore of Rhode Island Sound and the Atlantic were probably originally worn down by deer and the Narragansett Indians. When European settlers lived there, they would go down to the rocks to recover goods from ship wrecks.<br />
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For the sea could be harsh and the rocks along the shore were (and are) jagged and dangerous. Yet there’s something very exciting about walking on a narrow path with civilization on the one side, and the fierceness of nature on the other. Standing on the Walk, looking out to sea, the centuries fall away and you feel a connection with all that came before.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kyOs1Pulon9t-wKlX7t-VWwDvisbwlEPwsz94bX1kQeR5mxYkksnMBqcXRvXdqzP1JeccJLqLMgTpJXg-KmG3KoLBEss8xMOl-O7yMPesnz1KFuz8rNVimL6yDC-khd1Rykfa4fAKlM6/s1600/112357238_the_breakers_newport1-40491216764_xlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1kyOs1Pulon9t-wKlX7t-VWwDvisbwlEPwsz94bX1kQeR5mxYkksnMBqcXRvXdqzP1JeccJLqLMgTpJXg-KmG3KoLBEss8xMOl-O7yMPesnz1KFuz8rNVimL6yDC-khd1Rykfa4fAKlM6/s200/112357238_the_breakers_newport1-40491216764_xlarge.jpg" width="168" /></a></div>
Newport began to be a summer <a href="http://www.newportmansions.org/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">haven of wealthy</span></a> New Englanders as far back as 1850. As is the way since time began, people liked having a home with a view, and so homes were built along the edge of the ocean. As the century progressed, the first homes were replaced with palatial mansions that had grounds rivaling the lush estates of Europe. Instead of merchants and politicians building there, the extraordinarily wealthy “Robber Barons” of the Gilded Age took over: the Vanderbilts and Astors built summer “cottages” that were as large as twenty homes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31B3-_p2TIRqZVl8viGEpN6Ca7w0FPnqw9lCBWC5OlokjIdN70qK2yThyphenhyphen09EGBAhn27_f5iSrZA37NvIbQVdlO53AYPXESlq2PhWQH9LaT_iDjH_mVPuGcz3aGq8VYloj_gFyHOijb-vs/s1600/The_Forty_Steps_-1024x644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="201" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh31B3-_p2TIRqZVl8viGEpN6Ca7w0FPnqw9lCBWC5OlokjIdN70qK2yThyphenhyphen09EGBAhn27_f5iSrZA37NvIbQVdlO53AYPXESlq2PhWQH9LaT_iDjH_mVPuGcz3aGq8VYloj_gFyHOijb-vs/s320/The_Forty_Steps_-1024x644.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Forty Steps </td></tr>
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The <a href="http://www.cliffwalk.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Cliff Walk</span></a> was a place for all classes. Although the wealthy lived along its edges, the servants who worked in those houses were free to use the Walk. At the north end are the 40 Steps. Here’s a photo of the wooden steps taken during that olden time. The steps ended on the rocks. It was a gathering place for the working class who would have parties where they’d dance and sing Irish music. Since that time, the steps have been improved, from wood to more sturdy stone. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMp83IMmCcguO807A0qbTBcVav7AhUhUOZesLifxALwWO4pRTFINgG-_IwGQj7cgjo58jHVpKzJFc1l-4UjOKNNpz0sKTLfMGiLxIgS2j6uy3_ikgSoUdEyWRPmgeM0zjht-3mW9HbLOr/s1600/servants+on+the+cliff+walk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguMp83IMmCcguO807A0qbTBcVav7AhUhUOZesLifxALwWO4pRTFINgG-_IwGQj7cgjo58jHVpKzJFc1l-4UjOKNNpz0sKTLfMGiLxIgS2j6uy3_ikgSoUdEyWRPmgeM0zjht-3mW9HbLOr/s200/servants+on+the+cliff+walk.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Servants gathering <br />
on the Cliff Walk</td></tr>
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As the Walk gained in popularity, improvements were made a little at a time. Now, most of the Walk is paved, though there are still areas where you are virtually walking on rocks. But in the 1890’s (the era of my book) it was a more dangerous place and every year there were accidents and even deaths. I’ll leave it at that…</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My husband on the Cliff Walk<br />
telling me "How about this one?"</td></tr>
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What did the rich home owners think about the lower classes walking within a hundred feet of their back porticos? They were not amused. At various times in history, the homeowners tried to restrict access. At one point they even dropped the Walk 12’ below the land-line so walkers couldn't see their houses. They’d plant bushes, put rocks in the way, or even use guard dog. <br />
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But many embraced the merging of their property and the Cliff Walk and made improvements, including nice walls to sit upon and bridges. The bottom line is the walk is a public place and all are welcome to embrace its beauty and honor its history. Go to Newport and take a walk. You won't be disappointed.//Nancy<br />
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Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-61155612990238865492014-09-10T00:01:00.000-05:002014-09-10T00:01:00.026-05:00How Much Things Cost--Then and Now<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: red;">* <strong>A NOTE FROM NANCY *</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How much does it cost? It’s an oft-used phrase, an oft-asked question. The cost of living affects every part of our lives. We make choices based on an item’s cost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve always been fascinated with how much things cost in the past. Much of the time, the items seem ridiculously cheap. And yet . . . and yet . . . when taken in relation to income, often what seems cheap isn’t. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6xYwjjY11ocBWMndOc69AbcPUFWna3Ubjm8-0o6PH60DoD6p3r4VHIElCg-5BTp7JJzYCGU4w28R5dkE93BP8V39Trc9gdyJVq0qxf2NJAu1dT3N83K77gBvY83UMbtFVOCfeEmmca76/s1600/shoes+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6xYwjjY11ocBWMndOc69AbcPUFWna3Ubjm8-0o6PH60DoD6p3r4VHIElCg-5BTp7JJzYCGU4w28R5dkE93BP8V39Trc9gdyJVq0qxf2NJAu1dT3N83K77gBvY83UMbtFVOCfeEmmca76/s200/shoes+1.jpg" height="150" nx="true" width="200" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptPBpqeVQ4bmQuQrVuNYIORduE6vqe_uk1KPFtnBtJwwm2sMc37NTZyNwQJgnSksa8lrH0KkBY2udNP56zMVXfekyQrSXNBbOet8nHIjBc5Fd_e71zUtKDJ6V-qDHMPqTVWcnLQfERh_G/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgptPBpqeVQ4bmQuQrVuNYIORduE6vqe_uk1KPFtnBtJwwm2sMc37NTZyNwQJgnSksa8lrH0KkBY2udNP56zMVXfekyQrSXNBbOet8nHIjBc5Fd_e71zUtKDJ6V-qDHMPqTVWcnLQfERh_G/s200/shoes.jpg" height="180" nx="true" width="200" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For instance, in a Bloomingdale’s 1886 catalog a pair of women’s boots costs $1.75. We can find similar boots today for $49.95. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yet considering the income of many unskilled city-dwellers was only $740/year . . . They worked 10-12 hours a day, for $.20/hour, six days a week. It’s said that a dollar in 1886 is worth $23.50 now (</span><a href="http://www.measuringworth.com/"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.measuringworth.com</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> ). Let’s make it x 24 to make it a nice number… $740 in today’s money is $17,760. It seems about even-steven. Even the cost of the boots is commensurate: $1.75 x 24 = $42. It’s actually kind of amazing.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvGq8bPhWqBpH3G5Iood_PAYtpyNYck-K2czGVfFG1AntOjwkLelt9oHquK2zJalhX5Q0btC8aBrFArZWtGsiRzSUXb6UDaTNT_dqZWatGDclcTPfFwTlb-aVZKUKrKRuTab23MyqPes7/s1600/clothes+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvGq8bPhWqBpH3G5Iood_PAYtpyNYck-K2czGVfFG1AntOjwkLelt9oHquK2zJalhX5Q0btC8aBrFArZWtGsiRzSUXb6UDaTNT_dqZWatGDclcTPfFwTlb-aVZKUKrKRuTab23MyqPes7/s400/clothes+1.jpg" height="400" nx="true" width="216" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day dress on the left—with a lot of embellishments—cost $4.75 in the Bloomingdale’s catalog. The one on the right, with a lot of lace, was $12.75. Although it’s hard to find a present-day outfit that uses an equal amount of yardage or trim, if we take the 1886 price x 24, that brings up a modern-day cost of $114-$306 for an outfit with a lot of detail. Again, not out of line. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oeSBq319eFLqQLmn-DmkglgM__O5HBAjgpfi4tdC3WT4ufOSizMiDXD8tU9guF1MybrImKEqLeXn10Hfg1PRdRsDIZN9Yi7fsCgt77HyaSn6dYfdsPyFdnrtRK1ekNeY2y6eb_Nz6Agw/s1600/napkin+ring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0oeSBq319eFLqQLmn-DmkglgM__O5HBAjgpfi4tdC3WT4ufOSizMiDXD8tU9guF1MybrImKEqLeXn10Hfg1PRdRsDIZN9Yi7fsCgt77HyaSn6dYfdsPyFdnrtRK1ekNeY2y6eb_Nz6Agw/s200/napkin+ring.jpg" height="200" nx="true" width="187" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let's look at something fancy. A silver-plated napkin ring cost $.29 each (or $1.16 for 4). Now? $27.84 for 4 (but note the modern ones are simple, with no fancy etching.)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLjqIJMfCzH8UeGIvp6x4eOAyP8ZSsFGYOJHmKhl7U2QcfHkrX3UAwgovIdDWTMWHbuMsD8O81jfEp45UsyPbGN30D9qcbYCuVVobsXfgQVD6v_5Be96Mv8MDqZk-j71YCz1LqJ3-x9XX/s1600/napkin+rings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLjqIJMfCzH8UeGIvp6x4eOAyP8ZSsFGYOJHmKhl7U2QcfHkrX3UAwgovIdDWTMWHbuMsD8O81jfEp45UsyPbGN30D9qcbYCuVVobsXfgQVD6v_5Be96Mv8MDqZk-j71YCz1LqJ3-x9XX/s200/napkin+rings.jpg" height="129" nx="true" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm69PQAgU4i6llBhvCtScFcVPfGXgg11ooJcU6WPFriXBcWQ4mzkWuRnWKzwR557eFRkMrHkWh5m1bYo7FqBlehV0ihRvp6hpGLiH1ynzlsQVEXi7jZHjhPn5xsxAtyCt8nRQDcDP4DI5F/s1600/baby+carriage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm69PQAgU4i6llBhvCtScFcVPfGXgg11ooJcU6WPFriXBcWQ4mzkWuRnWKzwR557eFRkMrHkWh5m1bYo7FqBlehV0ihRvp6hpGLiH1ynzlsQVEXi7jZHjhPn5xsxAtyCt8nRQDcDP4DI5F/s200/baby+carriage.jpg" height="200" nx="true" width="164" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A baby carriage cost $11.50. Now? A collapsible stroller with extra storage and cup holders costs $249. Close to the $276 inflation number. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZK2kOMz-UPkHU-uQkp2uJS6eoqNLe7IKIoIbJRcZZLdE4tBXQh8sN2ehcEgfqu0hsvXPxER9dUgVFyzcJDUqEnDNVWx3brxVcq9_KxMKFY8tbJsH0YdXJdGDNYQYDd6z-OkQzkGIDTYG/s1600/stroller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZK2kOMz-UPkHU-uQkp2uJS6eoqNLe7IKIoIbJRcZZLdE4tBXQh8sN2ehcEgfqu0hsvXPxER9dUgVFyzcJDUqEnDNVWx3brxVcq9_KxMKFY8tbJsH0YdXJdGDNYQYDd6z-OkQzkGIDTYG/s200/stroller.jpg" height="200" nx="true" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So where is the discrepancy in what things cost then and now? </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Or is there one?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A basic not-so-nice apartment rented for $15/month. Times 24 = $360. Can people find any type of housing for $360/month anymore? And only the rich owned carriages while almost everyone now owns their own car. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The cost of living in 1886 was pretty basic: lodging, food, and clothes. No charges for cell phones, computers, cable TV, air conditioning, internet, insurance, gasoline . . . And no income tax or sales tax. </span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGfbBel0XWzdcU2POJUBTLbXpSuAC_5FoAbdt7B97McOCKJeVfnmv0QhznONIqQf9O5vBsxcjHfC1dOBkaWd6CewsE_U7v1ZDtWJlObpS7UvRzaGIp8lyQSE15MKRBFMTnl-GTjzJnIRe/s1600/flag.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We have more to spend our money on nowadays. More bottom-line items in our monthly budgets. Our lives are more varied and comfortable. And complicated. But we work shorter hours, spend more time and money on entertainment and recreation, and have something most 1886 people did not: FREE TIME. We have more options in every aspect of our lives. Is that a good thing? Are we happier?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It still comes down to the fact that money—and buying things—shouldn't be the source of our happiness. The things that have no monetary cost are the things that are priceless: our family, friends, faith, and freedom//Nancy Moser</span></div>
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Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-46042481473791696222014-08-27T07:00:00.000-05:002020-01-30T08:49:46.672-06:00I'll Take Thirty Dresses<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: large;">* <strong>A Note From Nancy *</strong></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I've been sewing since I was a little girl. It's in my blood. As such I like fashion, and I like to write about dressmaking...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-9vvz9rH5s3MJriRZ8413NaWBJhbb35RU1EYYaB0PQ_AG8YegXIAUNO4jssIAGwkPId4r8jU0q62gjIyTsiI-oOgxeLRmN4ksJDPcpAAwfTWrZI5JqXLUa0NRxjrRVffwTeyHjh48KRH/s1600/Stewarts+in+house+dressmaking+shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="216" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-9vvz9rH5s3MJriRZ8413NaWBJhbb35RU1EYYaB0PQ_AG8YegXIAUNO4jssIAGwkPId4r8jU0q62gjIyTsiI-oOgxeLRmN4ksJDPcpAAwfTWrZI5JqXLUa0NRxjrRVffwTeyHjh48KRH/s320/Stewarts+in+house+dressmaking+shop.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Made-to-order workroom in Stewart's</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My novel </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Unlikely-Suitor-An-Nancy-Moser/dp/B005X4C2QI/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1409012619&sr=1-7" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">An Unlikely Suitor</span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> begins in a dressmaking shop in New York City in 1895. Off-the-rack clothes were no longer a novelty and could be purchased at a myriad of department stores (Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, Stewart’s, Bergdorf-Goodman…) Many stores offered both custom made clothing as well as ready-to-wear, which was often sewn to fit on the premises. Women could also order clothing from catalogs. But with all these options, most high-society ladies still had their wardrobes custom designed and sewn, often in small dress-shops. In my book it’s Madame Moreau’s Fashion Emporium. The “Madame Moreau” in the store’s name is in reaction to a fascination with all things French. Actually, the woman who runs the store is named Mrs. Flynn, who had the uncanny ability to adopt a French accent when dealing with her clientele. These dressmakers often imported Paris fashion—to copy, although in the 1890's they were taking more and more pride in their own developing American fashion. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG73pIJJ5EujmOIgu7kJej8LzQMbhpN48CItWGam6PLScsM_FTGeY_sYKDPLPpsiGfGVCnwXR5VyiGG4gtGuorF4A1l4F0afs4f359C7zNOJR0QfHyopaKXVQwTp_N2ofnHCH2UL_rByIy/s1600/Bloomingdales+1888.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="236" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG73pIJJ5EujmOIgu7kJej8LzQMbhpN48CItWGam6PLScsM_FTGeY_sYKDPLPpsiGfGVCnwXR5VyiGG4gtGuorF4A1l4F0afs4f359C7zNOJR0QfHyopaKXVQwTp_N2ofnHCH2UL_rByIy/s320/Bloomingdales+1888.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Bloomingdale's 1888 catalog</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">1830's</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Although the complexity of the bustle-era was gone (illustration at left is 1888), dresses in the mid-1890’s were far from simple. The focus moved from the back of the dress to the sleeves—or actually to the waist. For by making the sleeves ridiculously huge, a woman’s waist appeared tiny in comparison. And in the everything-old-is-new-again phenomenon, it should be noted that these sleeves were also popular in the 1830’s. But during that time, skirts were also wide, making women look as if they were swallowed up by their clothes! Too much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Fashion is all about silhouettes. To create the hour-glass silhouette of the 1890’s, a wide top and small middle was needed. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">bodice pattern</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The over-sized puffy sleeves were called gigots, or leg-o-mutton sleeves. They were often made from four separate pieces of fabric (most sleeves nowadays are cut from one piece), and they could be stuffed so they kept their shape. Skirts were often four or six gores, or had insets of gathers at the thigh-level (as a seamstress myself, I know these insets would be difficult to do.) Even though the patterns to ,make these clothes were still far from simple, it was a big step for women’s fashion to lose the bustle. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhISeVvEqUKVIflQcG0paA7GrM7ZvLKmBVg-SwBW8yIbCeoXIJneAlhPwVUcxzVh62IJ4eyhEsvsQk2VWyU2x_-mXeenIdInqFwC90rB4oyOmoKPaeI_9U0V40RJgOT7kRp4M4XQ3toQUCy/s1600/shirtwaist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="157" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhISeVvEqUKVIflQcG0paA7GrM7ZvLKmBVg-SwBW8yIbCeoXIJneAlhPwVUcxzVh62IJ4eyhEsvsQk2VWyU2x_-mXeenIdInqFwC90rB4oyOmoKPaeI_9U0V40RJgOT7kRp4M4XQ3toQUCy/s400/shirtwaist.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Note the inset flared skirts on the right</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To herald the new style came the “shirtwaist”. It became the uniform of working women everywhere: a relatively plain skirt with a leg-o-mutton blouse that had a standing band collar and buttons up the back. A simple petticoat was all that was needed—except for the dratted corset, of course. It would still be twenty-five years before women rid themselves of that awful contraption. Wearing this relatively simple ensemble women were able to go to college, work, and enjoy sports such as golf or tennis. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But forget shirtwaists for the rich patronesses of the dress shops. They wanted custom designs that made them stand out from the masses of women wearing the simpler styles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The dressmaking shops were often staffed by immigrants, first or second generation Americans. They created the intricate patterns for the dresses, cut the fabric (which was purchased in varying non-standardized widths. Now, we basically have 45”, 54”, and 60” widths to choose from), and sewed the garments on machines and by hand (I’ll be blogging about the evolution of the sewing machine next week.) The elite of society kept these shops busy with their need to showcase their family’s successes and wealth through their fashion. To walk the streets of New York City in elegant finery, to take a promenade through Central Park, to go to the opera or Delmonico’s, to attend a ball or dinner at the Astor’s or Vanderbilt’s, demanded fashion that wowed the viewer. Has much changed today? Don’t we also long to be thought of as fashionable?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1ustlAwwWJv-HfRr5ISTbOSFd5G3eh-najbarJZsSiTi-pjn6CT5dwcNiGsh0Ys7JLnzYFFFdkbZPScoG78w6-zEjh2LEFK3bmzlsrwJ_P5fL0K-SuZXO4_S5QvkwQb-5MiHUACbNqyT/s1600/ballgowns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="315" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha1ustlAwwWJv-HfRr5ISTbOSFd5G3eh-najbarJZsSiTi-pjn6CT5dwcNiGsh0Ys7JLnzYFFFdkbZPScoG78w6-zEjh2LEFK3bmzlsrwJ_P5fL0K-SuZXO4_S5QvkwQb-5MiHUACbNqyT/s320/ballgowns.jpg" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now here’s an age old question: did women dress for men or women? Do we dress for men or women now? The fashion of the late nineteenth century tried to emphasize a woman’s figure (even if it was completely covered). But I still think most women dress for the appreciation of other women. For do men really know if something is fashionable or not? Women notice. Women <em>know</em>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Another reason the dressmaking shops kept busy was the summer season. Many of the members of the Four Hundred of New York society went to Newport, Rhode Island for six to eight weeks at the end of every summer. There, amid the cool ocean breezes, they created another version of society, with as many rules and standards as they had in the city. Each woman needed nearly thirty new outfits for this season. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtuAZpT66LRApCguQZry4vObs8PApB8bXRBci5v1blkkAXq_Ez2oXQ8w19OEnyfX9cDLZvpnUlFd3_yLZ4Jp1428VS45VO99NaiEiTNDlP0gExm1e-Gm0bNmJDha5aRD68bZBPA-0GuyW/s1600/Unlikely+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1036" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrtuAZpT66LRApCguQZry4vObs8PApB8bXRBci5v1blkkAXq_Ez2oXQ8w19OEnyfX9cDLZvpnUlFd3_yLZ4Jp1428VS45VO99NaiEiTNDlP0gExm1e-Gm0bNmJDha5aRD68bZBPA-0GuyW/s320/Unlikely+COVER+EBOOK.jpg" width="207" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CcKOc4bxnj4-nd6QdSo99BxyMxs0QeAJT-mNbxqQ-MicMKgzNgHsJ-UbCCT-Lhc9Tkyk-keUFrIfXDZ2K4uyAdEmk9u4vwPE7qF0IKgHLBrINa9dIl_yOE369S95K70JAvezkI_Ff5o_/s1600/An+Unlikely+Suitor+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That’s the starting point in </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07V7SH44B?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks" target="_blank">An Unlikely Suitor</a></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">. A mother and daughter enter Madame Moreau’s in need of an entirely new wardrobe…only the daughter suffers from an infirmity that causes her dresses to hang oddly. Enter the heroine, Lucy Scarpelli to find a sewing solution. And so a friendship between immigrant seamstress and wealthy heiress is born . . . and continues as Lucy gets a chance to join Rowena in Newport. It’s a classic premise of friendship between a poor girl and a rich girl, set amid the lavish opulence of Newport, with the breeze blowing off the Cliff Walk, and handsome young men with time on their hands . . . Trust me, the story is well . . . sewn.//Nancy </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span><br />Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-60962684120574523962014-08-12T14:26:00.000-05:002014-08-12T14:26:28.150-05:00Fickle Fashion<div style="border: currentColor;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EnQxQrh6H53CQb0JJBp19c1tFOviEca8Dn4DjQGThuwFKHWEkkiF0eMOPTaiwueTtT5ZmSkcYG-GytTXl7H7xYr5St6_qdDR6bEynDZrzvsTQzhi6Jey3kZZnTPdnibVI-2SG1b0-AYZ/s1600/elizabethdarnley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EnQxQrh6H53CQb0JJBp19c1tFOviEca8Dn4DjQGThuwFKHWEkkiF0eMOPTaiwueTtT5ZmSkcYG-GytTXl7H7xYr5St6_qdDR6bEynDZrzvsTQzhi6Jey3kZZnTPdnibVI-2SG1b0-AYZ/s200/elizabethdarnley.jpg" height="200" n4="true" style="cursor: move;" unselectable="on" width="137" /></a><br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple;">* NOTES FROM NANCY *</span></strong></div>
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Summer makes me think about the fashion of the past. How at ease we are now. How comfortable. It wasn't always so...<br />
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It’s said that women are slaves to fashion. Unfortunately, it’s a very true statement. Here are a few cases that show how fickle women’s fashion has been through the ages, and how we women have meekly followed the trends:</div>
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<strong>Ruff-Ruff</strong>: It’s said Queen Elizabeth I was often sewn into her clothes (it would be 300 years before the zipper made dressing easy.) But beyond that tidbit, I don’t understand the ruff from this era. In order to get fabric to hold its form it has to be stiff. Perhaps this is where the phrase, “Keep your chin up” came about. At least men were subjected too. Enough ruff.<br />
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<strong>The Anchor Skirt:</strong> That’s not a real term, just my take on the shape of the ridiculous side-contraptions that swept through Europe from Russia to France in the last half of the eighteenth century. I understand women often try to camouflage their hips, but please. Didn’t they get tired of entering a room sideways? <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/18th-century-fashion-from-washingtons-lady-and-moz/" target="_blank">See 18th Century Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>The Great Reveal:</strong> After the American and French Revolutions, fashion said off-with-your-head to any dress that required blueprints to create and to wear. The result was gowns that let the skirt fall free from an “empire” waist. As a result, women were discovered to have legs! It seemed as though a dose of reason had finally taken over fashion. But stupidity was just around the corner … <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/fashion-of-jane-austens-time-just-jane/" target="_blank">See Regency Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Idiot Sleeves:</strong> I didn’t name this one—it’s the real name of the huge sleeves of the Romantic Era of fashion (1825-35). Skirts were simpler but full again—though sometimes they were short enough to reveal a woman’s ankle. Apparently the cling of the full leg of the previous Regency fashion was too much to bear. Or too tempting?<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/historical-fashion-id-love-to-wear/" target="_blank">See Vintage Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Frankly My Dear:</strong> Hoops. Big ones. A hundred years earlier, women had to walk sideways through doors. Now they had to watch how they sat down or the entire world would get a show. At least this style gave women a pretty bell silhouette. <em>Ding-dong-ding</em> swung the bell as they walked.<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1860s-fashion-from-the-journey-of-josephine-cain-e/" target="_blank">See 1860's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Baby Got Back:</strong> The 1870’s and 80’s brought about the bustle. Padding and cages and over-draping and flounces, pushing out the back of the dresses. Now women had to sit on the edge of their chairs to leave room for what was behind. Backless bustle-chairs were created to solve this problem. At least when they walked there was a nice sway. <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1870s-fashion-hello-bustle/" target="_blank">See 1870's Fashion</a> <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1880s-fashion-from-the-novel-masquerade/" target="_blank">See 1880's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Baa-Baa:</strong> The leg-o-mutton sleeves of the 1890’s made wearing a coat difficult. Supposedly the enormous width of a woman’s top half made her waist look tiny. Maybe I should try it. I can use all the help I can get. <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1890s-fashion-from-an-unlikely-suitor-era/" target="_blank">See 1890's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Here’s the Skinny:</strong> The second decade of the 20th century brought a skinny silhouette. Finally women could sit comfortably in a chair, walk through doorways, and not fear a high wind. Yet some of the skirts went too far (surprise, surprise) and the “hobble skirt” was born. It’s self-explanatory. <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/edwardian-fashion-1900-1919/" target="_blank">See Edwardian Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Dapper Flapper:</strong> WWI was over, Europe was free of its oppressors (for the moment) and women took note and freed themselves from corsets, hoops, waistlines, as well as sleeves and long skirts. Bare arms, shoulders, knees, and calves. Yikes! Fabrics were sheer and flowing—great for dancing the Charleston, smoking cigarettes, and drinking a dry martini. <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/dapper-flapper-fashion-of-the-1920s/" target="_blank">See 1920's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>The Pants in the Family:</strong> The forties had women taking on men’s jobs while the men were at war. Again. With the responsibilities came the ease of menswear. Finally women were allowed to wear pants! No one wore menswear better than Katherine Hepburn. <br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/fabulous-forties/" target="_blank">See 1940's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Corsets Again?:</strong> From the fabric rationing of WWII came the circle skirts of the fifties. And small waists and pronounced bosoms. Think Deborah Kerr’s wardrobe in “Indiscreet” and "An Affair to Remember." Dreamy. All girl. This would be my choice for fashion. It was fabulously pretty and elegant. Of course, this was also the age of Cary Grant and all his luscious movies, so I can’t be certain he’s not a big part of my choice. <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/flirtatious-fifties/" target="_blank">See 1950's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Hobble Skirts II:</strong> Pencil skirts accentuated the bottom half and sweaters and cone-like bras accentuated the top. Girdles were essential. No thanks. <br />
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<strong>Jackie Oh!:</strong> Our first lady was the epitome of class in her tailored suits and sheath dresses. But Mod was also in, and took the sheath to higher heights. Our favorite girl was “That Girl” Marlo Thomas.<br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/sexy-sixties/" target="_blank">See 1960's Fashion</a><br />
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<strong>Dippie Hippie:</strong> The seventies was all about one thing: anything goes. Mini’s, maxi’s, midi’s. Caftans, bell bottoms, granny dresses, gypsy skirts, polyester knit, and psychedelic tie-dye (I wore them all.) It was grungy and dirty and unkempt, but it was oh-so comfy. But would comfy ever coincide with classy? <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/psychedelic-seventies/" target="_blank">See 1970's Fashion</a></div>
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<strong>Power Woman:</strong> I hate to admit it, but I still have a few suits from the eighties. How do I know they’re from that era? The ridiculous shoulder pads and stupid neck ties—tied in bows. Women were trying too hard to look powerful. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. I need to call Goodwill for a pickup.<br />
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<strong>And now . . .</strong> Oddly, it’s hard for me to pinpoint fashion right now. Comfort is in, but pants are skinny and wide, long or capris. I have dresses that are reminiscent of the 20’s, 40’s, and beyond. Fashionable boots have high heels or we wear flip-flops. It’s almost hard to wear something that’s out of style. As I sit here in my jeans, sandals, and corsetless torso I can count myself lucky that fashion is one element of my life that I don’t stress over. Have we women finally—finally—found enough confidence to make our own choices? Perhaps. Until the next fashion show piques our interest. Just no hoops please.//Nancy <br />
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<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7EnQxQrh6H53CQb0JJBp19c1tFOviEca8Dn4DjQGThuwFKHWEkkiF0eMOPTaiwueTtT5ZmSkcYG-GytTXl7H7xYr5St6_qdDR6bEynDZrzvsTQzhi6Jey3kZZnTPdnibVI-2SG1b0-AYZ/s200/elizabethdarnley.jpg" height="96" style="left: 624px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 68px; visibility: hidden;" width="66" />Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-49595395126866832322014-08-06T09:23:00.000-05:002014-08-06T09:23:00.583-05:00Pioneers and "the Glorious Fourth"<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: right;">
--Summer Greetings from Stephanie Grace Whitson</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> How's your summer going? I can hardly believe it's time for back to school sales ... and for me to have not one but TWO grandchildren old enough to start school. Where did the last six year go? But before school starts, we'll be heading to a family reunion "on the beach." While it takes some forethought to manage it, an eight-hour drive for fun isn't really all that unusual for today's families. Back in the 1800s, such a trip would be unthinkable. But that doesn't mean our pioneer foremothers didn't know how to party. July 4 was a huge day for Nebraska'a pioneers. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hzndSIfEZz9xnCyuJVC4hwuFo8VTCHkIh6kz6SWwhEkyRxoc9yJqg108IssESHjRFWwujhnVQtebRKjxGlXjFMwA_NS4IRLRoANxgOI48R9Rq9I_IWrOJAiyjhWRHlSkkSJUp2jFaRk/s1600/Vintage+Post+Card+Flag+Day006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5hzndSIfEZz9xnCyuJVC4hwuFo8VTCHkIh6kz6SWwhEkyRxoc9yJqg108IssESHjRFWwujhnVQtebRKjxGlXjFMwA_NS4IRLRoANxgOI48R9Rq9I_IWrOJAiyjhWRHlSkkSJUp2jFaRk/s1600/Vintage+Post+Card+Flag+Day006.jpg" height="320" width="204" /></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">“Now, therefore, I, Silas Garber, governor of the state of
Nebraska … do declare said county to be temporarily organized … this
twenty-seventh day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand either hundred
and seventy-seven, <b>and of the
independence of the United State the one hundred and first</b>, and of this
state, the eleventh.” Thus was Custer County, Nebraska, officially created. It’s
interesting that the 2,592 square mile county’s first official document
references Independence Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> Custer County was a hard place to eke out a
living. Houses were built from the prairie sod, and homemakers waged a constant
battle against fleas, frogs, and snakes. One early Easter Sunday, neighbors got
together with guns, revolvers, rifles, spades, and garden rakes, and killed 133
rattlers. In one day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> Even in
those early days, though, when towns were little more than a few ramshackle
buildings squatting on open prairie, celebrating July 4 was an important event.
Early photographer Solomon Butcher photographed one such celebration in 1886.
You can see the photograph here: </span><a href="http://memory.loc.gov/award/nbhips/lca/290/2904v.jpg"><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">http://memory.loc.gov/award/nbhips/lca/290/2904v.jpg</span></a><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> One pioneer
woman remembered a basket dinner on her first Fourth of July—and the singing of
patriotic songs by a chorus. She also mentioned “funny stories told to keep up
our morale.” A popular song originally titled “The Beautiful Valley of Eden”
became “The Beautiful Valley of Clear Creek” in honor of a new settlement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> Estell Chrisman
Laughlin remembered the “hustle and bustle or preparation a week or so
beforehand,” as mothers sewed new dresses for their daughters and cotton suits
for their sons. Another woman reminisced, “Mothers spent days sewing, washing,
ironing, making button holes, and sewing on buttons, starching and ironing
petticoats as stiff as sunbonnets. We wore two or three of those petticoats,
ruffles and all. We listened for the guns at sunrise on the Fourth of July
morning. There were horse races and baseball games, dancing all afternoon and
night, speaking, and other entertainments.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> Families
arrived in town early to select a meeting place for dinner, which consisted of
“great quantities of fried chicken, baked beans, potato salad, sandwiches,
brownstone front cake, and gooseberry and raspberry pie—the contents of the
pies having been diligently gathered from canyons and creek banks by children …
Each housewife wished to impress the others with her culinary proficiency.”
Sometimes the lemonade might even be chilled with ice, cut the prior winter and
stacked in an ice house or barn, protected from melting for as long as possible
by being covered over with straw and gunny sacking. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> Mrs.
Laughlin remembered a Judge Matthews who “reeked of tobacco,” but was popular
with the children, “for he could write our named in red and blue fancy script
on a little card which he decorated with a graceful winging bird holding a
scroll in its beak.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";"> In the
afternoon, the speaker of the day would “discourse in loud, stentorian tones
upon patriotism and what our forefathers had done for us. Old Glory floated
aloft in the hot summer air. The people sat about on plank seats, patiently
listening and fanning themselves. … When the departing fingers of sunlight
withdrew through the trees, there was a general roundup of children. We stowed
ourselves into carriages, spring wagons, or lumber wagons, where we sat in all
dignity on kitchen chairs, as we departed homeward, tired and happy after a
glorious Fourth.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">I hope your summer has had some "happy and glorious" moments.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif";">Here's one of mine (below)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;">Stephanie</span></div>
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Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-72308071059638340292013-11-06T06:00:00.000-06:002013-11-06T06:00:08.255-06:00A Mourning Event, Part I "I'm going to a mourning event this weekend ... wanna come?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9QCBQ-oT_eQUqvGtN6j9eC8wKp7KlaeqdiPOcPr3c470Hn4cr9WLwvixJx-eGmMV6O9iFfEl1XpZZjT5WKVajfxPf47SBwOy0F5iYzxgh4JRobaJq_BNoDBG93f2x1HH2lpLgiPF1uQ/s1600/IMG_3017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg9QCBQ-oT_eQUqvGtN6j9eC8wKp7KlaeqdiPOcPr3c470Hn4cr9WLwvixJx-eGmMV6O9iFfEl1XpZZjT5WKVajfxPf47SBwOy0F5iYzxgh4JRobaJq_BNoDBG93f2x1HH2lpLgiPF1uQ/s320/IMG_3017.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Not an invitation you hear often, eh? But when I saw news of the event on the web site for the Chatillon-Demenil House in St. Louis, Missouri, I was intrigued. I'm always interested in historic mansions, but I'd never been to a "mourning event." I have, however, had to research mourning customs, most recently for my book <i>The Shadow on the Quilt. </i>I'm very glad I made the effort to go. The event was well planned and very informative. I found it fascinating.<br />
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Attendees were welcomed with the sign at the right placed on the wrought iron fence that borders the back of the property. Friends and fellow authors Judith Miller and Nancy Moser and I purchased our tickets and made our way up the sidewalk that ran alongside the house toward the front door. Why did we go in the back way? Well, the front of the house looks out on an access ramp to an interstate. It's sad that the house just barely escaped being razed, and that "the view" isn't exactly inspiring. Still, the mansion was saved and it's cared for by a group of dedicated people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFswnISYCnNzbwgmQtxQwW-7ag54kKx2dQJEMEBdAW7ZpPMcgGgGH9D7vyzH4fQh4nBNcjOChkdUljrQ3RgRzoWlnPo4KYYtYC6s01Iu-qtbTKULnMt_piKZnLgpjcr1cFkXtGGmYvxeQ/s1600/funeral+biscuits.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFswnISYCnNzbwgmQtxQwW-7ag54kKx2dQJEMEBdAW7ZpPMcgGgGH9D7vyzH4fQh4nBNcjOChkdUljrQ3RgRzoWlnPo4KYYtYC6s01Iu-qtbTKULnMt_piKZnLgpjcr1cFkXtGGmYvxeQ/s320/funeral+biscuits.JPG" width="240" /></a>Each room of the house was dedicated to a certain aspect of Victorian mourning. First, we met a widow in the first stage of mourning. Then we moved into another room where a widow in the second stage of mourning showed examples of mourning stationery and other ephemera. The dining room table was set with mourning china, complete with a tray of funeral biscuits. In the upstairs hall, another mourner told us about one of the great enemies of children in the 19th century--diphtheria. In another room, a nurse shared some of the things she'd used to treat an ill patient and warned us of the importance of keeping a button on our person at all times, so that if a funeral procession happened to pass by, we could hold onto the button and keep Death from stalking us. Mary Todd Lincoln shared her experience with grief. Back on the main floor, the undertaker greeted us in the formal parlor. Each reenactor seemed very well informed, and I learned something new from each one--and came home with a new appreciation for how different things were in the 1800s, when saying good-bye to loved ones was based in the home. <br />
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The plate at the right is an example of the mourning china that was on display in the dining room.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMs4PD8qKP7NmE3uKo02UliqkyaHelW0UR5kytrRX7uaDniOdTlcFcQC8MjRoRccuZJ05BHzg2_84i-yjCQ10RTxZL7ya7U8af-q0CABvATFXg-eNPw2P6QAJJrcsCcvan8oEbH-fcOUo/s1600/mourning+plate+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMs4PD8qKP7NmE3uKo02UliqkyaHelW0UR5kytrRX7uaDniOdTlcFcQC8MjRoRccuZJ05BHzg2_84i-yjCQ10RTxZL7ya7U8af-q0CABvATFXg-eNPw2P6QAJJrcsCcvan8oEbH-fcOUo/s200/mourning+plate+2.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
I didn't know such a thing existed!<br />
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Commercial bakeries often vied for the "funeral biscuit" business ... just as they competed for wedding cake orders. In some areas, biscuits were distributed at the funeral luncheon or supper. In other parts of the country, they were delivered to family and friends as a way of sharing the news of a loss. Printed memorials were sometimes used for the wrapping paper, the packages closed with black sealing wax.<br />
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Overall, this was a fascinating and informative event. The next time I have to kill off a character, I'll know more about how that would have affected the survivors--well, the wealthy survivors, anyway. The "middling folk" wouldn't have been able to participate in such elaborate ritual.<br />
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In 2013, we sometimes lament the commercialization of holidays. In the late 1800s, furniture makers, florists, printers, bakers, dressmakers, musicians, stone masons, tailors and more all created product to support an entire industry. Mourning was big business. There is nothing new under the sun.<br />
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Posted by Stephanie Grace Whitson </div>
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November 6, 2013</div>
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Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-35529943798189346182013-10-30T17:00:00.001-06:002013-10-30T17:00:14.615-06:00Hot Women of History: How Women Dealt With Heat and Hygiene.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrccSMxYDee5d1-swYy6L_0ZUOGZ4SYtic6u9IOSZe_z0yxLTwVnmaocHiHe6DMvDEdz5KlQQ3FZIqIUMzV8ISi7WVtfK9areYtw2cBfWgSUZvi85eft8ZV-n5hb4kcUc6ZMHCaxvSR9I2/s1600/woman+reclining+with+fan.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrccSMxYDee5d1-swYy6L_0ZUOGZ4SYtic6u9IOSZe_z0yxLTwVnmaocHiHe6DMvDEdz5KlQQ3FZIqIUMzV8ISi7WVtfK9areYtw2cBfWgSUZvi85eft8ZV-n5hb4kcUc6ZMHCaxvSR9I2/s320/woman+reclining+with+fan.JPG" width="320" /></a></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I sit in my air-conditioned house and drive my
air-conditioned car, wearing shorts, sandals, and a breezy cotton top, I wonder
how women of the past dealt with hot weather. Thinking of all their layers upon
layers makes me melt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where’s my fan?</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So how did women tolerate the heat?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps part of the answer is simple:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the change in seasons comes gradually,
allowing the body time to adjust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus,
it’s relative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sixty degrees in April
feels warm while sixty degrees in September feels cool. The body adjusts and
fabrics change weight and color.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg063aFiLBv-UzmyHcI7-aY_bWAUIU-OtvIDtRTdBaTO2YLkCuUVrVqNnojpUg6kXW8AGkGTlNQy0s_AkD1omQHf36S-MDmnZcyJoY73Eu35mnJTWLwEpgGZWcl0054azQnCUrDX2dFkIqg/s1600/gone-with-wind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg063aFiLBv-UzmyHcI7-aY_bWAUIU-OtvIDtRTdBaTO2YLkCuUVrVqNnojpUg6kXW8AGkGTlNQy0s_AkD1omQHf36S-MDmnZcyJoY73Eu35mnJTWLwEpgGZWcl0054azQnCUrDX2dFkIqg/s320/gone-with-wind.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<v:shape alt="gone-with-wind.jpg" id="Picture_x0020_7" o:spid="_x0000_s1029" style="height: 120.85pt; left: 0px; margin-left: -4.95pt; margin-top: 4.05pt; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 164.1pt; z-index: 5;" type="#_x0000_t75" wrapcoords="-197 0 -197 21448 21521 21448 21521 0 -197 0"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
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“Gone With the Wind” the ladies at the barbecue retire to the shade-darkened
bedrooms, strip down to their underwear and nap during the heat of the
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daily schedules changed to fit the
temperature. People often got up dawn, took a breather in the heat of the day,
and went back to work in the cooler evenings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During
the late 1800’s, the wealthy families of the stifling east-coast cities moved their
entire households to mansions that took advantage of the ocean breezes of
Newport, Rhode Island. People with porches or basements slept wherever they
could catch a breeze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women carried
parasols—which I found handy in Rome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Note my light-colored cotton clothing.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZe9FtVBYE1xNy45ZHTXRFZdgk-jVeS_3ju4lKtA0mJ5IyegPnIVkMLTi_FmYCoeLytJsnXB27Mjgiz5Kgva5f1uQzjn5z9DQK7ICMCFuMIDnL38AF0hyphenhyphen1rzLB1qLKNs5joz_u5fFB-Vg/s1600/Nancy+with+parasol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYZe9FtVBYE1xNy45ZHTXRFZdgk-jVeS_3ju4lKtA0mJ5IyegPnIVkMLTi_FmYCoeLytJsnXB27Mjgiz5Kgva5f1uQzjn5z9DQK7ICMCFuMIDnL38AF0hyphenhyphen1rzLB1qLKNs5joz_u5fFB-Vg/s320/Nancy+with+parasol.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<v:shape alt="chatillon-demenil-chamber-pot.jpg" id="Picture_x0020_2" o:spid="_x0000_s1027" style="height: 128.05pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 5.65pt; margin-top: 67.85pt; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 95.85pt; z-index: 2;" type="#_x0000_t75" wrapcoords="-338 0 -338 21254 21634 21254 21634 0 -338 0"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
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the middle ages, the church thought nakedness was evil and baths could make you
sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Eventually logic prevailed. Later,
washing the body, washing the face, and eliminating waste were achieved in
three distinct areas: a portable bath tub in the kitchen near the heat source,
a wash basin in the bedroom, and an outhouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or a chamber pot—which was emptied in a cess pit in the basement or
outdoors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Putting all the functions in
one place didn’t come about until the 1900’s. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If
women were traveling, where did they relieve themselves?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They could use outhouses at inns, or if in
the country walk away from the wagon or stagecoach, lift their skirts and squat
in the grass. Sometimes a fellow woman would spread a shawl or skirt to afford
some privacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a scene in the
movie, “Mrs. Brown” that shows Queen Victoria relieving herself in the woods. Pantaloons
were often split in the middle which allowed for this amid all the other skirt
layers. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql-37pC6Tf7F_TQcJ9itakySUjVHp3Iz_a93gLKNOGKkI4H3PP7B0xTgpqG6tK4Md3c848jv_txq9WygERyWaPsrTz9g_2FMVPzmYxDFVhJYgwCVqRIZC_uOAdzulAzRmNg7YIx9lb5hT/s1600/split+pantaloons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql-37pC6Tf7F_TQcJ9itakySUjVHp3Iz_a93gLKNOGKkI4H3PP7B0xTgpqG6tK4Md3c848jv_txq9WygERyWaPsrTz9g_2FMVPzmYxDFVhJYgwCVqRIZC_uOAdzulAzRmNg7YIx9lb5hT/s200/split+pantaloons.jpg" width="198" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now comes a question we rarely ask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did women handle their periods?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pads and tampons have been around since
ancient times. Moss, leather, and other fabrics were tied around waists or even
inserted when wrapped around a stick. In some tribal cultures, women were ostracized
during their periods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for the most
part rags were used, washed, and reused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And women of status often withdrew during that time, keeping to their
rooms—which I suspect played into the image of females being weaker and more
fragile than men. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">People didn’t wash their clothes often either. To cover the
stench they used perfume and pomanders. If everyone smelled, did they get used
to it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so </i>glad I
live when I do. Take a look at my Pinterest board: <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/what-a-lady-wore-beneath-it-all/" target="_blank">What a Lady Wore Beneath it All</a> then check out over <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/boards/" target="_blank">2000 links to wonderful historical fashion</a>!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What could you give up: Air conditioning, a bathroom, or modern clothing?//Nancy</span></div>
Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-37426531831724946262013-09-12T09:36:00.001-05:002013-09-12T09:39:19.847-05:00The Roots of a Dream: The Transcontinental Railroad<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">
Just released is my novel, <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Josephine-Cain-American-Tapestries/dp/082493427X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372157169&sr=1-1&keywords=journey+of+josephine+cain" target="_blank">The Journey of Josephine Cain</a>, </em>which places a spoiled rich girl from Washington D.C. smack dab in the middle of the building of the Transcontinental Railroad after the Civil War. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p> </o:p>It’s 1866. The Civil
War has ended. Tens of thousands of war-weary soldiers need work—and beyond
that, a purpose. They long for inspiration and a way to feel united again, a
way to feel proud of their country.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Enter the Transcontinental Railroad project. Up until this
time, if you wanted to travel from coast to coast, you could take a train as
far as Council Bluffs, Iowa or Sacramento, California. Then you’d have to get
off the train and go overland by stagecoach or wagon train. It would take six
arduous months over mountains, deserts, and rivers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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August 1859, Abraham Lincoln was in Council Bluffs to check on some land that
was collateral for a debt, and met with Grenville Dodge where they discussed
the possibility of a transcontinental railroad stretching to the Pacific. They
stood together on a bluff and looked west, and Dodge (who would become a
brigadier general in the war) made a case for going directly across the prairie
of the Nebraska territory. Since there was no bridge over the Missouri River
between Council Bluffs and Omaha, it was logical to start the project in Omaha.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXUVQuwuDnutkbeCjeKgu2UF4_ZzWKDmgQwCoe82gKseVYTUiSqdxqQWPIlJgbSLa9EXo-Sm1lYTufsnsUT9gQaSR24az8KvquYUVXP67NP8Ruge5GX7Kdb4uPGWt6_7mqfV9duNAhyphenhyphen4l/s1600/laying+the+track+Frank+Leslie+Illustrated+Sept+24%252C+1881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNXUVQuwuDnutkbeCjeKgu2UF4_ZzWKDmgQwCoe82gKseVYTUiSqdxqQWPIlJgbSLa9EXo-Sm1lYTufsnsUT9gQaSR24az8KvquYUVXP67NP8Ruge5GX7Kdb4uPGWt6_7mqfV9duNAhyphenhyphen4l/s320/laying+the+track+Frank+Leslie+Illustrated+Sept+24%252C+1881.jpg" width="227" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1862, after Lincoln became president, he signed the
Pacific Railway Act and created the Union Pacific Railroad. Then he instructed
the Union Pacific and Central Pacific to construct America’s first
transcontinental railroad connecting Omaha and Sacramento, the Central Pacific
heading east, and the Union Pacific heading west. Bonuses were given for miles
of track laid, and promises of land for towns was enticing. A lot was at stake
for many, many people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Work started in 1865 and was completed in May 1869 at
Promontory Summit, Utah. During those four grueling years ex-Confederate
soldiers worked side by side with ex-Union soldiers—and ex-slaves. Imagine
that. A year earlier they were killing each other. It’s astonishing. And it
wasn’t just Americans who worked on the project. Tens of thousands of
immigrants left their homelands to work on the railroad. On the Central Pacific
line Chinese workers were the prominent work force, and on the Union Pacific, the
Irish led the way.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03bgNbkgF-CWkfwA4kNiUuuGpzAKG-CwWixelwZrCRdInyS_u4F_KV0lEXnT_cWQNbStUiQO4QWMuSDN44oDCT4C2lsWU-WzGpL8meEV2npDvoOd9DWcnq3g_RoXPv_Bbt1LN2qrQ5AiM/s1600/Promontory+Summit+Utah+with+caption.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg03bgNbkgF-CWkfwA4kNiUuuGpzAKG-CwWixelwZrCRdInyS_u4F_KV0lEXnT_cWQNbStUiQO4QWMuSDN44oDCT4C2lsWU-WzGpL8meEV2npDvoOd9DWcnq3g_RoXPv_Bbt1LN2qrQ5AiM/s320/Promontory+Summit+Utah+with+caption.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Men were paid varying
wages according to their job: $2.50-4.00, or an average of $90/month. Yet the
railroad deducted $20/month for food and board. The workers endured long days
of backbreaking work, rough living conditions, harsh weather, and the threat of
accidents and Indian attacks. Plus, as the railroads entered the Wild West,
they came into contact with many people who’d come west to escape iffy pasts
and held the law in disdain. Outlaws, shysters, murderers, and con men. Along
the way, Hell on Wheel towns followed the crews—just like they’d followed the
soldiers in the war—offering booze, gambling, and prostitution. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why did the men do the work? It gave them food in their
bellies, money in their pockets, and even more than that, pride in working
toward something big, a project many called impossible. Because of their
dedication and courage that six month trip from Omaha to Sacramento was cut down
to a few days!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With all this drama and passion in the air it’s not
surprising that a pampered general’s daughter from Washington D.C. would find
herself a fish out of water. My character Josephine Cain has some choices to
make when she is assailed with these rough experiences along the rails. She can
choose to run home to what she knows, marry a family friend, and continue life
according to the status quo. Or she can cower and be intimidated by the strange
new world of the West. Or . . . she can be challenged by the possibilities, and
tap into the strong woman she never knew she was. Guess which choice Josephine
makes . . . <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Come along on this amazing journey of discovery, courage,
and faith and be a part of the American dream! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlp_UwSBSdmW45dhPM46y-MeUIPyP98AXGYnDGQpy5HSthjjIeeI5UrSoXh4Ofdijj9xk0rMWxX3HLMuxDfDY1JepthlSWzhXfUxqaJPv2V4xiqXbK5DMVmERd4FA3AZ3EMQuY78rpugB7/s1600/The+Journey+of+Josephine+Cain+FINAL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlp_UwSBSdmW45dhPM46y-MeUIPyP98AXGYnDGQpy5HSthjjIeeI5UrSoXh4Ofdijj9xk0rMWxX3HLMuxDfDY1JepthlSWzhXfUxqaJPv2V4xiqXbK5DMVmERd4FA3AZ3EMQuY78rpugB7/s320/The+Journey+of+Josephine+Cain+FINAL.jpg" width="203" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Read an excerpt from <em>The Journey of Josephine Cain </em><a href="http://www.nancymoser.com/excerptjosephine.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Buy it at your favorite bookstores: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Journey-Josephine-Cain-American-Tapestries/dp/082493427X/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372157169&sr=1-1&keywords=journey+of+josephine+cain" target="_blank">Amazon</a>, <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-journey-of-josephine-cain-nancy-moser/1114937622?ean=9780824934279" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a>, or <a href="http://www.christianbook.com/the-journey-josephine-cain-american-tapestries/9780824934279/pd/934279?item_code=WW&netp_id=1112770&event=ESRCG&view=details" target="_blank">Christian Book</a> . It's available in paperback or eBook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Check out Josephine's storyboard on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/journey-of-josephine-cain/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>. and loads of <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1860s-fashion-from-the-journey-of-josephine-cain-e/" target="_blank">1860's fashion here</a>!</span></div>
Brenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-2406777210802200082013-09-04T20:58:00.000-05:002013-09-04T20:58:15.482-05:00I bought three elephants this week.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumWt6H-niclHWjsR84MGTul2M63ieQ0T7sw-SIUc6ctclB2a6SmyXBjtT5wu1orIty2EkFRtL4zR94uTy5GOOHaVJG6FSikBs1JsHzV2BZFBlNK8DmSvRkkoqRZb904yDnPMEMrSaqtk/s1600/IMG_2845.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumWt6H-niclHWjsR84MGTul2M63ieQ0T7sw-SIUc6ctclB2a6SmyXBjtT5wu1orIty2EkFRtL4zR94uTy5GOOHaVJG6FSikBs1JsHzV2BZFBlNK8DmSvRkkoqRZb904yDnPMEMrSaqtk/s200/IMG_2845.JPG" width="150" /></a>Really. This little guy on the right was at a local rummage store and my grand-kids have already gotten far more than seven dollars worth of joy out of it. Isn't he adorable?<br />
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I imagine some grandpa working in his shop, cutting the pieces, painting the gray ... and then outlining the "saddle" and the cap with those little silver brads. Just too cute not to bring home.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpar8tELJT6oQ_VqFTrNhATuxj3eyrp4PVxAUQs8tcvtJvRci6FMd0O8wb2nGIO93ayawkJbI-Fir4LTMIgloIIQnAz4X0lE_Aco7r_x4ynUjUVT5BQQPEz2j9xhChimJ8H6yDhK37emU/s1600/IMG_2837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpar8tELJT6oQ_VqFTrNhATuxj3eyrp4PVxAUQs8tcvtJvRci6FMd0O8wb2nGIO93ayawkJbI-Fir4LTMIgloIIQnAz4X0lE_Aco7r_x4ynUjUVT5BQQPEz2j9xhChimJ8H6yDhK37emU/s200/IMG_2837.JPG" width="200" /></a>The other two elephants are one-dimensional, embroidered by an unknown hand onto a crazy quilt I won on an online auction. What inspired the maker? Did she love the circus? Had the circus just come through town?<br />
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Imagine seeing a live elephant for the first time ... perhaps the only time in a lifetime of days spent on the prairie in the 1800s. The biggest of the two elephants has blue eyes. I love that touch of whimsy ... and even though this quilt is far from "fine" and even though no one else seemed to want it, I'm glad to give it a home. It makes me smile. I think there may be a bit of circus research in my future. I keep remembering sepia-toned photographs I've seen somewhere, of pachyderms making their way down a dusty street in small Nebraska town.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOYTQn0UmD_Fp-XRwmdzNbH5uXlkoA1Rc08rrxwomiBOWo7_ySsI_SuvidktE0812BpVLuWNpErqxtxxguFOzdrflfQe2vjD6MTZrGMLGOXOUB-eUtEPoJ2C0vfbcq7hQ8SozYbCg5h8/s1600/Elephant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOYTQn0UmD_Fp-XRwmdzNbH5uXlkoA1Rc08rrxwomiBOWo7_ySsI_SuvidktE0812BpVLuWNpErqxtxxguFOzdrflfQe2vjD6MTZrGMLGOXOUB-eUtEPoJ2C0vfbcq7hQ8SozYbCg5h8/s320/Elephant.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /> Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-78143811628154035712013-07-22T14:15:00.001-05:002013-07-22T14:28:30.590-05:00Eye Miniatures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6syxnmn76qvaW9lVSeTRnysO_H2w5vxzi7pECnymrPLY-FKNLQ4PvfjaeYTjxGcKCoqI3kB5np1y0KO4Z_s-z8_Zx8Lv0oy2SSpLqkb5ZWK3Uk3yLUa1RAPOGXMc_eK8zFQRmCOE5exL_/s1600/eye+miniature+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6syxnmn76qvaW9lVSeTRnysO_H2w5vxzi7pECnymrPLY-FKNLQ4PvfjaeYTjxGcKCoqI3kB5np1y0KO4Z_s-z8_Zx8Lv0oy2SSpLqkb5ZWK3Uk3yLUa1RAPOGXMc_eK8zFQRmCOE5exL_/s1600/eye+miniature+1.jpg" /></a></div>
I was scanning through Pinterest (an addiction--at least I admit it) and saw some "eye miniatures". I had never heard of such a thing. But apparently in the late 1700's people would commission a portrait of their loved one's eyes. Or eye. Just one.<br />
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The art was usually watercolor on ivory and was made into a brooch, bracelet, or ring. They're actually quite amazing. If the eyes are the door to one's soul, then I can imagine wanting to capture that image for all time.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYslj8bVYWESOtVGvaWASMVwUTm6sBINPmvdwJBhG5X5DBWK3pofHlzHmKHjSmHvhI-Yzz41_avO28r-ENpDpgX2EEE3rrg2-lz7lNE2UJJIpwsvQoDLYMQ5hzktF2Lc61BUbSMnyiJ53/s1600/eye+miniature+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYslj8bVYWESOtVGvaWASMVwUTm6sBINPmvdwJBhG5X5DBWK3pofHlzHmKHjSmHvhI-Yzz41_avO28r-ENpDpgX2EEE3rrg2-lz7lNE2UJJIpwsvQoDLYMQ5hzktF2Lc61BUbSMnyiJ53/s1600/eye+miniature+2.jpg" /></a><br />
It's said that George III(England's king who wouldn't let the 13 American colonies go) had a mistress who gave him a portrait of her eye. Of course, when that's all there is in the portrait, it's hard to identify who the eye belongs to. Quite perfect for lovers and mistresses, and hence they were called "Lovers' Eyes". But eventually, it became a more sentimental keepsake for family members.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmnErlzZ0fL13ykBrmXjLytA-I3FHp6f1Z2dW0UD93268auMYl2kgoXBMFrxTp5vwtz3NS-Fp1LKsdgBt3_-AumKj_kFGzt-Mvs9a_9IEFKJUyFUSEcNM1UAFfsml__SN_M7gp-IKK3-q/s1600/eye+miniature+4.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxmnErlzZ0fL13ykBrmXjLytA-I3FHp6f1Z2dW0UD93268auMYl2kgoXBMFrxTp5vwtz3NS-Fp1LKsdgBt3_-AumKj_kFGzt-Mvs9a_9IEFKJUyFUSEcNM1UAFfsml__SN_M7gp-IKK3-q/s1600/eye+miniature+4.png" /></a><br />
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They can be quite pricey to collect, from $1000 to $20,000. <br />
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But beware the fake! Here's a fascinating <a href="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/roadshow/tips/loverseyes.html" target="_blank">article about it (and Antiques Road Show) here.</a> <br />
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I also found a <a href="http://www.gilesltd.com/books/catalogue/exhibition-catalogues/the-look-of-love/" target="_blank">book about them</a>.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdAlL0CFK3lWmajvYeI9_nIIn_c_tZRGS8C9_8z7oiglJmDMG2t1DhuffceXGTQHDsfxq5ADtoMfbKCg0NB42jEfrgSDvTFbZd76bJhU3m2lqPFbxN2qLUeEEQANw5cvXaRMvqv24OkEp/s1600/eye+miniature+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdAlL0CFK3lWmajvYeI9_nIIn_c_tZRGS8C9_8z7oiglJmDMG2t1DhuffceXGTQHDsfxq5ADtoMfbKCg0NB42jEfrgSDvTFbZd76bJhU3m2lqPFbxN2qLUeEEQANw5cvXaRMvqv24OkEp/s320/eye+miniature+3.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
All these painted eyes seem quite lovely, but are missing one thing.<br />
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Wrinkles.<br />
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You can't convince me that none of the subjects had crow's feet. <br />
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Sorry. Sometimes I'm just too practical. Where is my romantic side? Lost in the past, no doubt.<br />
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Take a look at my Pinterest board that has loads of <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/vintage-prettiesantique-fascinations/" target="_blank">Antiques and Vintage Fascinations</a>. Check out these other links to the boards I have about <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/1860s-fashion-from-the-journey-of-josephine-cain-e/" target="_blank">fashion</a> (from most every era), <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/accessories-from-history-fans-gloves-hats-and-para/" target="_blank">accessories</a>, <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/what-a-lady-wore-beneath-it-all/" target="_blank">underwear and corsets</a>, <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/portraits-of-past-people/" target="_blank">portraits</a>, <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/jewels-and-sparkly-things/" target="_blank">jewels,</a> <a href="http://pinterest.com/nancymoser1/history-that-intrigues-me/" target="_blank">history that intrigues me </a>... Once there, click on the boards to Follow me! (saying that I feel like the character in the movie "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade")<br />
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If you're new to Pinterest, let me warn you, it's addictive. But in a nice way.//NancyBrenda Joseehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14372850292511402313noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3103707002868692486.post-78560064218893925372013-06-05T16:18:00.003-05:002013-06-05T16:18:28.828-05:00Name This Character. Please. <h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<a href="http://stephaniegracewhitson.blogspot.com/2013/06/name-this-character.html" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;">Name This Character</a></h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWFfvajkOhGs7i9ufyIxV43XQyTxoZfPXLOl8kzg2v7k5CXansoJriPBtJLZP92CK9hx0dMTMCAZV7kSTPRseIwmELFrN2huXwh7YvDYlx27gTBJLY2ngtLguI1IcjP78L9qPgfL4RG5W/s1600/Daughter+of+Regiment+They.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWFfvajkOhGs7i9ufyIxV43XQyTxoZfPXLOl8kzg2v7k5CXansoJriPBtJLZP92CK9hx0dMTMCAZV7kSTPRseIwmELFrN2huXwh7YvDYlx27gTBJLY2ngtLguI1IcjP78L9qPgfL4RG5W/s320/Daughter+of+Regiment+They.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="240" /></a><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Names are my nemesis.</b></span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>I can find faces. I spent a lovely couple of hours yesterday finding faces and "auditioning" them on the toile-covered board in my office.</b></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b> ... but names. ARRRGHHH. </b></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>The fact that I've already used so many names in past books complicates things immensely. </b></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So many of the women's names I like have already been "taken."</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: medium;"> </span></b></span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IP_1FO7yPntpBYXAT0vp5qgWnDL7sBaZuQoQ5PTxcLDgwLjz_Q0BdXmA71bgVdDdnz0JlgVXBB-a6ye8ch-FrPmXpGH2KF8aPpbb-yvcdxAlTVlrWi3UGq012k-twoyVirhWn-LLv1go/s1600/Daughter+of+Regiment+She.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; color: black; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0IP_1FO7yPntpBYXAT0vp5qgWnDL7sBaZuQoQ5PTxcLDgwLjz_Q0BdXmA71bgVdDdnz0JlgVXBB-a6ye8ch-FrPmXpGH2KF8aPpbb-yvcdxAlTVlrWi3UGq012k-twoyVirhWn-LLv1go/s400/Daughter+of+Regiment+She.jpg" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="300" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">So here's "her" photo. The clothing is </span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">wrong, by the way. It's only 1861 in the book and this is probably more 1890s (the leg o'mutton sleeves on the coat are a dead give-away), but that face---perfect.</span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18px;"> </span></b><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18px;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is my leading lady. </span></b></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></b></span><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">Do you see Jenny, Lydia, Madaline (I suppose she would be called Maddie?), </span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;">Rosalie,or some other name I haven't considered?</span></span></b><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">By the way, I collect names from historical documents and tombstones, just to make sure it's a name that was in use. </span></b></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In this case it would have to have been in use in 1843 when my leading lady was born. </span></b></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></b></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.99479103088379px;"><b>It isn't a contest, but I'd appreciate your input. And if I choose the name you suggested, I promise to thank you when I write the acknowledgements ... and I'll send you a free book when it's available next spring (this book doesn't release until spring of 2014). Well, there you go ... maybe it <i>is</i> a contest, after all.</b></span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.99479103088379px;"><b><br /></b></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.99479103088379px;"><b>Blessings!</b></span></span></div>
<div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-5531308921339989244" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Open Sans'; font-size: 15px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 578px;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 17.99479103088379px;"><b>Stephanie G.</b></span></span></div>
Stephanie Grace Whitsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02442621477644235666noreply@blogger.com32