GREAT was my excitement when I saw on the ABC site that Miss Austen Regrets (made in 2008) would FINALLY be screening in Australia. I saw it advertised last year when it was shown in the UK, and I just couldn't believe we'd finally gotten it. I taped it when it was on but only just got around to watching it today. I sat down with a warm blanket and noodles determined to flood my brain with all things Austen.
Now, the story...
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
OVER at Young Adult Highway, the question this week for their Road Trip Wednesday was:
I'm one of those annoying people who likes to go around saying they read 'everything'. Which is not strictly true. I read a lot of the 'Classics'. I love Jane Austen and the Brontes, and I also really like Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
I'm not big on magazines; that's the one thing I barely ever read. I like historical fiction, including prehistoric (I read The Clan of the Cave Bear a few months ago...
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
I'M one of those people who has an obsession for online quizzes and name generators. I was browsing just this afternoon and came across a fairy name generator. Now I've always wondered, if I had wings and was ten centimetres tall, what they'd call me. It seems they'd call me something like:
Your fairy is called Columbine Icefly
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen at midday under a quiet, cloudless sky.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
DON"T The Beatles have some of the weirdest lyrics in the world? Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm not listening to the right stuff. But honestly. Look at this. I was listening to Octopus's Garden just a little while ago, and wondering what must have possessed Ringo Starr when he wrote it:
" I'd like to be, under the seaHaving said that, it is an awesome song. It's fun to listen to, but then perhaps I'm just a little too serious about it...
In an octopus' garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
in his octupus' garden, in the shade.
I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus' garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade.
We would be warm, below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head, on the sea bed
In an octopus' garden near a cave "
Posted by Milena March at 6:53 PM
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
To Miss E— Notingham
Henrow House, —shire
1st October 18—
MY Dearest Sister E—,
I thank you for your kind letter, which reached me in good time. The post is slow here, but that is not, I confess, the reason for my delay in replying to your letter. Though I do not wish to alarm you, I must explain my long silence which surely caused you much anxiety. Not long after despatching my last letter to you, I was taken to bed with a fever, and for many days lay unconscious of time and human presence. I surely felt that I had come near to the end, and in my fevered lamentations was greatly sorry that I could not write to you even once to bid you adieu. I spent the better part of September unwell here at this unsavoury inn, with nobody to attend me but a lady I will later dwell upon at length, Miss Jane, who is an uncommonly hard-working and kindly girl. She offered many a time to pen a letter to you but I did not wish to alarm you by sending tidings in another’s hand, which I was convinced would only serve to distress you more. But let that matter rest – I am now strong enough to hold my pen again, and Miss Jane has been clever in fashioning, with the help of the local blacksmith, a kind of writing-table which I may use from the comfort of my bed, thereby eliminating the need to spend many hours in the draughty room, sitting up rather than remaining in my current position.
But I have now done with myself – You are no doubt anxious to hear the continuation of my story, which you showed so much enthusiasm for in your letter.
To Miss E— Notingham, London
25th August 18—
My Dearest E—,
Having attempted, over the course of yesterday’s rest, to improve the state of my Health, which is not, I fear, at its very best (though certainly not nearly so bad as to trouble yourself with, my dearest E—) I have again come to my writing-desk to pen the promised tale of Horror to you. I trust the first instalment was amusing, and to your liking – certainly it was diverting for my own sake. The experience of it will live on in my Remembrance I believe, until my Final Hour. And so, without further ado, Dearest Sister (for I know how you hate to be diverted from the topic you are most interested in) I continue with my tale.
I had just told you, Sister, of my entrance into the House, and how I came to see the most astounding Sight in my eight-and-twenty years of life.