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papillon82fluttersby · 1 year

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Famous Five Art Nostalgia #02

Introductory post

Five Go Adventuring Again – Le Club des Cinq / Le Club des Cinq et le passage secret

Original publication date: 1943 (UK), 1955 (France)

(Cover art by Simone Baudouin, 1962)

As this was the first book of the series to be published in France, the publisher decided to title it simply as “Le Club des Cinq” instead of the later formula “Le Club des Cinq et […]” This understandably created confusion regarding the series reading order, and in a more recent edition this volume was renamed “Le Club des Cinq et le passage secret” (i.e. ‘Famous Five and the Secret Passage’).

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Plot summary (adapted from Wikipedia):

Julian, Dick, and Anne's mother is ill with scarlet fever, so they, George, and Timmy return to Kirrin Cottage for the Christmas holidays. Uncle Quentin, who is working on a secret theory in his study, takes a break to hire a tutor, Mr Roland [M. Rolland], to help Julian and Dick catch up with schoolwork they missed while sick. George is also required to attend the lessons, as she has just spent her first term at Gaylands boarding school [la pension Clairbois] and is behind her age level.

(George and Anne greet the boys at the train station)

(The Five settle at Kirrin Cottage for the Christmas holidays) [Note: This illustrator shows Julian with dark hair and Dick with light hair.]

The day before lessons commence, the children visit the old house at Kirrin Farm, which is run by Mr and Mrs Sanders [le père et la mère Guillou (“père” and “mère”, in this case, is an old-fashioned way of calling old people; this translation was changed to “monsieur et madame Guillou” in later editions)]. Mrs Sanders informs the children that two artists from London, Mr Thomas [M. Dulac] and Mr Wilton [M. Rateau], have booked a three-week stay at the house. The children explore some old secret hole in the house, they also find a cupboard with a false back. When searching a cavity in a wall, Dick finds an old book of medical treatment recipes and a linen map inscribed with Latin words.

(Exploring the farmhouse under the cat’s vigilant scrutiny!)

(An intriguing find!)

The children take the map back to Kirrin Cottage, where Julian guesses that it shows a "secret way" but he is unable to decipher the other words. Much to George's chagrin, Julian later shows the map to Mr Roland, asking him what the words mean. He confirms that it is about a "secret way" and also about an east-facing room with eight wooden panels. The Five don’t have much time to investigate, though, as they’re getting busy with Christmas preparations.

(Wintery fun!)

(🎶 Deck the halls with boughs of holly fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la 🎶)

Later, Timmy is banished outside to his kennel for attacking Mr Roland. During the night, Uncle Quentin's secret papers are stolen.

(Mr Roland faces a ferocious guardian)

(When confronted with Uncle Quentin and a duplicitous Mr Roland, poor Anne has trouble holding her tongue and covering for George who did enter her father's office at night but had nothing to do with the theft)

(Julian, Dick and Anne come to tell George about their confrontation with Uncle Quentin and Mr Roland, which George missed because she was walking Timmy outside)

George suspects Mr Roland of being the culprit, but cannot immediately convince the others. As George acts ever more rudely to Mr Roland, she gets punished and confined to her room.

(Julian does some snooping on his own, following Mr Roland, and sees him handing a sheaf of papers to the Sanders’ lodgers)

(Fake yawning: a tried and true tactic to escape adults’ supervision and, in this case, sneak into George’s room, where she’s been punished, and cheer her up)

The children later discover the "secret way" (which was in Quentin's laboratory after all) which leads to the two artists' room in Kirrin Farm, and they search it thoroughly for the stolen papers.

(Up the Secret Way!)

(A thorough search)

George uncovers the stolen papers and they try to escape through the secret way. The thieves almost outrun them but retreat when George threatens to set Timmy loose on them.

(Timmy holds the thieves at bay)

The Five also discover that Mr Roland was in league with the thieves and imprison the three of them in a room until the police arrive and arrest them.

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Bonus:

(Go on, Timmy, chase that insolent cat away!)

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Cover art through the ages:

(Disclaimer: This is not an exhaustive list; sometimes the dates are difficult to pinpoint; and I have purposefully not included editions that re-used similar cover art, with differences only in layout and font style.)

(Original cover art by Simone Baudouin, Hachette, 1955 – George’s and Anne’s headscarves are certainly a look!)

(Subsequent edition with cover art by Jeanne Hives, Hachette, 1969 – where the Five have suddenly turned into snowmen, plus a snowdog!)

(A snowy landscape by Jean Sidobre, 1971 – poor Anne’s legs must be cold with this skirt in the snow!)

(A pony ride with Jean Sidobre again in this Vermeille collection, 1974)

(Playing hide-and-seek in the snow! J.P. Morvan, France Loisirs, 1975)

(A very Christmassy cover by Umberto Nonna for Edito Service, 1981)

(More snow in this third illustration by Jean Sidobre, Hachette, 1982 – maybe Anne is wearing tights to protect her legs in this one?)

(Yves Beaujard continues with a snowy theme, and Anne’s legs are still bare 🥶 – Hachette, 1990)

(Finally all four kids are suitably dressed for a walk in the snow thanks to Paul Gillon, Hachette, 1992)

(A change of scenery with this illustration by Munch and Prunier – I love these colour tones, so warm after all the snowscapes! Also, Timmy seems very interested in Uncle Quentin's vials and beakers – maybe a future scientist in the making? Hachette, 2000)

(The Five explore the newly titular “passage secret” – Frédéric Rébéna, Hachette, 2006)

(More exploring from Auren, Hachette, 2019)

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That's all for today!

#papillon82 reads #famous five art nostalgia #famous five #le club des cinq #illustrations #simone baudouin #enid blyton #i don't really want to commit to a strict schedule but weekly updates sound like a good goal to aim for #let's see if i can keep it up!

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lunarianlibrarian · 4 years

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...... I’m watching Pride and Prejudice for the 361st time and you know I kinda ship?????

Anne De Bough and Mary Bennet

I think they would be the best goth girlfriends! And like Anne is inheriting her fortune so they would be able to financially support themselves.

Head canon that Anne has a fantastic singing voice and Mary loves to play the piano to hear her sing.

#pride and prejudice #mary bennet #anne de bough #mary/anne #dont tell me your not thinking about it now that ive put it in youre head #brb #going to check ao3 to see if there js any fics

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jesatria · 3 years

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Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap 8

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 4,888 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

4. Triumph

5. Gifts

6. The Eagle Unbound

7. Lighting the Candle

Chapter 8: The Longest NIght

Winter came early and hard. The snows fell earlier in the City than they were usually wont to do and fever soon broke out. It made me glad that I was not planning to pass the Longest Night there. Poets soon took to calling it the Bitterest Winter. Mayhap others felt the bitterness; I did not. Quite the opposite. Things were proceeding according to my plan. Yes, the King had rejected my bid for Ysandre’s hand and Ysandre herself refused to speak against her grandfather’s decision. It was a setback, but not a serious one. I had other plans.

I was in high spirits when I arrived at Lombelon a few days before the Longest Night. In truth I’d been flying high since Baudoin’s death, as if a weight had been lifted from me. That combined with Anne’s agreement to become my consort, sufficed to keep me in a fine mood since the summer. Then there was her unexpected revelation that she’d lit the candle to Eisheth. I soon realized, however, that I liked the idea of having a child with her. I was past thirty now—it was high time I got myself an heir. Whether I ever married or not, children born of an officially-recognized consort were counted as legitimate.

A fresh dusting of snow covered the ground when I arrived at Lombelon. Anne stood in her usual place of greeting outside the door, the fur-lined cloak I’d given her wrapped tightly around her. As I rode closer, I could see she was positively glowing with excitement. I all but leapt off my horse and rushed over to her. “I’ve some wonderful news,” she said after we exchanged the usual greetings, “I’m with child.”

My eyes went wide. “You’re certain?”

“Quite certain.”

I swept her into my arms and kissed her fervently. “That is wonderful news indeed!” Somehow the possibility of fatherhood had failed to register with me yet; this brought the reality home. I was going to be a father. Anne and I were going to have a child. It was happening, truly happening. The prospect was intimidating, yes, but only a little. The entirely foreign territory of parenthood was not such a wild land when I had Anne to travel it beside me.

“Would you carry me over the threshold as if I were your wife?” Anne’s teasing voice jolted me out of my thoughts. I did as she suggested and set her down just inside the doorway. It was only a casual remark, but it got me thinking, imagining myself as King with Anne and our child beside me. The thought of tossing all political considerations aside to follow Blessed Elua’s precepts was a very appealing one. I resolved to think on it again later, once I had the prize I sought. For now, I would continue with my plan to name Anne my official consort. ‘Twas a pity it would have to wait until I had the throne. I simply did not have the time to see to it before then, not when I had so many other preparations to make.

It was immediately apparent that the Longest Night was nigh upon us. The great hall was decorated with wreaths and evergreen boughs, embellished here and there with red, white, and silver ribbons. Such decorations were common for the Longest Night, but I could see how they would have a particular significance in L’Agnace as a reminder that there was life yet in the earth and green things would return. “I see you’ve noticed the decorations,” Anne remarked, drawing my attention back to her.

“Yes. They’re quite festive. Your doing?”

“Oh no, we always decorate the great hall like this for the Longest Night,” she explained. “I like the greenery. I’d keep it there all winter if I could.”

“How very L’Agnacite of you.”

“Seeing evergreens always cheers me in winter,” she replied. Anne hated winter, a sentiment which seemed rather common in L’Agnace. I recalled hearing Ghislain de Somerville complain about it while attending winter functions at the Palace. I found it hard to relate, as winter has always been my favorite season. Still, I did the best I could to comfort Anne when the cold weather began to wear on her. I’d have my work cut out for me convincing her to ever spend the winter with me in Camlach. She wouldn’t like the cold, but she was L’Agnacite and would see the beauty of the land.

“I’ll need to take you to the Midwinter Masque at the Palace sometime,” I said. “It’s somewhat to see at least once.”

She smiled. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

“The decorations are always quite stunning, the food excellent, the costumes beautiful. The only spectacle I can think of to match it would be the Midwinter Masque at the Night Court.”

Anne’s eyebrows rose. “The Night Court has its own masque?”

I nodded. “Cereus House hosts it every year, and all thirteen houses attend. It’s harder to get an invitation there than to the Palace masque.”

“Have you ever been?”

“Twice, both with Prince Baudoin.” The first time had been the year he played the Sun Prince. None of us had known about that beforehand, only that Baudoin had a surprise he couldn’t wait to share. In retrospect I’m surprised he did not just tell us, considering how he boasted of his mother’s plans so carelessly. Parts of that night are somewhat of a blur in my memory, as I’d been more than a little drunk, though not as drunk as Baudoin. I’d been stuck holding him as he staggered into Cereus House, so drunk he could barely walk. That was somewhat I didn’t miss in the least, carting Baudoin around when he was blind, stinking drunk.

“When was that?” Anne asked.

“The first was around ten years ago. I was just shy of turning twenty.” It seemed longer ago than that. “Baudoin and I were still good friends then.” The thought didn’t sting as much as it might have months ago.

She was silent for a moment and I thought she might ask me about Baudoin, but she didn’t. “Which of the two masques do you prefer?”

That was somewhat I never considered before; I had to think on it. “Well, it’s difficult to match the sheer decadence and debauchery of the Night Court. You can certainly get it at the Palace too, but no one does debauchery quite like the Night Court does. Their masque has a tendency to turn into an orgy before the night is over.”

Anne giggled. “Decadent indeed. I imagine the Palace masque is more restrained.”

“Yes, to a certain extent. I’ve never seen it become an orgy, but that isn’t to say there aren’t plenty of couples carrying on in semi-private niches.”

She laid a hand on my arm. “Those are fêtes worth attending, it seems.”

“Next year you’ll attend the Palace masque with me.” Next year I’d be King of Terre d’Ange if all went according to plan.

“I would like that very much.”

The days leading up to the Longest Night passed quickly, as all days spent with Anne had an unfortunate tendency to do. It snowed a handful of times, ensuring the grounds were covered in a blanket of white for the Longest Night. I’ve always felt the day lacks a certain something when there is no snow on the ground. Once the pathways were cleared, Anne and I spent some time walking outside. The air was brisk with winter’s chill, but not so cold as to be frigid. I was pleased to see Anne wearing the fur-lined cloak I’d given her, along with a new pair of sturdy boots and warm gloves.

“It really is beautiful, the snow,” she commented as we walked through the gardens. The snow had rendered them a foreign landscape, with the only points of familiarity being the evergreen trees and shrubs. “For all that I complain about it, it is beautiful.”

“It is. I’ve always thought there was somewhat peaceful about it when everything is covered in white after a storm, like a blanket for the sleeping land,” I said, feeling unusually poetic. I suppose my contentment in the moment brought it on.

“My father used to say somewhat similar. When I’d feel sad because all the plants died as the seasons changed, he’d tell me that many of them were only sleeping in the earth and would return again in the spring,” said Anne. I was glad to see her speaking of her father with no trace of sadness in her voice. It was nearly a year since his death and she’d seen fit to confide in me whenever the grief was especially strong. I wished I’d known Gerard Livet better so I could share her grief. My own father had died not so very long ago, and it had been a sudden thing. He’d neglected to call for a chirurgeon after being wounded in a border skirmish and the wound took septic. Maslin d’Aiglemort was nothing if not stubborn to a fault. I’d been with him when it happened and was not expecting to find myself as Duc d’Aiglemort before I was thirty.

I took her gloved hand in mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Do you think your father would approve of what has passed between us?”

She grinned. “If you mean would he approve of me getting with child by you, he would. He knew how happy you make me and so he approved of us.”

“I do wish he was here to see the birth of his grandchild. He and your mother both,” I said gently.

“So do I. What of your family? What will they think of us and our child?”

“Well their opinions hardly matter, not when I am the head of the House. I doubt any of my cousins will say a word against you.” A small smile came to my lips. “My father, were he here, would doubtless be pleased I fathered a child.”

“Indeed.”

“Are you concerned my family will not be welcoming to you?” I inquired.

“The thought crossed my mind once or twice.”

“You shouldn’t trouble yourself over it. I don’t expect you’ll need to see them often.”

Her hand relaxed a little in mine. “I know I’ve been worrying about all of this too much, it’s only that… I fear I won’t fit into your world,” she admitted. At my confused expression, she added, “The parts of your life without me in them.”

I was silent for a moment, taken aback by her words. I’d never thought of it that way, at least not consciously, but it was true enough. There were things Anne did not know and could not know. If things went wrong and my plans were exposed, suspicion might fall on her. That could not happen. By keeping her ignorant of my plans, I protected her. She would not end up like Marc and Bernadette de Trevalion, exiled for their knowledge of Lyonette’s plot. Still, it hurt to keep these secrets from Anne. “That distinction won’t matter once you’re my consort, Anne. You will learn to feel at home in my ‘world’ as you put it over time.”

“I do hope you’re right.” She squeezed my hand. “To think next year we might attend the Palace’s Midwinter Masque together.”

Next year she’d be consort to the King of Terre d’Ange if my plan succeeded. “Indeed we will.”

The Longest Night dawned clear and cold, just the sort of weather I liked. Since Anne and I would be counted as a household once she was my consort, we thought to dress according to a theme for the masque. I would be attired as winter while Anne would be summer. It was her idea and I had to own it was a good one. She had some specific ideas for the costumes, which I relayed to my tailor and seamstress. That surprised me a bit, for I’d never seen Anne to express much in the way of opinions on clothing. I hardly ever gave much thought to it myself, so I was glad to have someone else take charge of it.

We were both quite satisfied with the end results. For my part, I wore a deep forest green doublet and breeches, the shade of pine trees in the depths of winter, accented with silver. My first inclination was to wear all white, but Anne quipped that I was like to blend in with the snow given my coloring. The forest green brocade with silver embroidery was meant to evoke a pine tree with snow in its branches. To complete the costume, I wore a crown fashioned of pine boughs accented here and there with red berries.

Anne loved her costume. “I’ve never worn anything so fine,” she said, running her hands over the silk of her gown. It was the color of honey, with a pattern of fruit and flowers on the bodice and along the hem. Her crown was of flowers and green leaves fashioned from silk. Doubtless she could name all of them; I couldn’t.

I secured a cloak of white velvet around my shoulders with a silver pin. Anne left off admiring her gown to look me over. “You look like a winter spirit come from the heart of the forest. The dark green really does suit your coloring.”

“I didn’t know you paid attention to such things,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Neither did I. I never had much cause to pay attention to such things until now.”

Our costumes were complete with domino masks, mine silver and hers gold. Once they were in place, I held out an arm. Anne took it and together we made our way down to the great hall. Most of the household was already there and they stopped what they were doing to watch us walk down the stairs together, Anne’s hand on my arm. Gasps and whispers could be heard here and there—I daresay we made an impressive pair. “Do they know you’re with child?” I inquired.

“Yes, I imagine so. Word spreads quickly at a small estate such as this.” It was a bit uncomfortable that the household knew, if not exactly surprising. No doubt it was a thrilling bit of gossip.

The decorations I’d noted when I arrived were only the beginning. More had been added since then and the great hall looked entirely unlike I’d ever seen it before. I’d attended several celebrations at Lombelon over the last few years, but none of them had taken place in the great hall. L’Agnacites loved the land and with it came a fondness for outdoor celebrations. But not even they would pass the Longest Night outside. A pair of long tables had been set up on opposite sides of the hall, with ample space in between them for dancing. A fire roared in the large fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm. As Anne and I approached the table nearer the fireplace, folk in the crowd paused to bow or curtsy. I knew nearly all of them by name now. There was Thèrese, the head of the kitchen who’d made Camaeline dishes for me. There was Marcel, Anne’s friend and lover before—and also a bit after—she met me. If he had any lingering resentment toward me, he didn’t show it. My men were there as well, casually mingling with the residents of Lombelon. Those among them who regularly accompanied me on my visits had gotten to know the folk of Lombelon and felt at ease attending a fête such as this.

Anne and I took our seats at the center of the table nearest the fireplace. There was nothing like a formal seating arrangement—the higher-ranked members of the household sat closest to us while the rest took what seats were available. The table was laden with a fine selection of dishes. Anne took the time to point out a few of note. “I made sure some of your Camaeline dishes were included,” she informed me.

“Let us see if the other cooks did as good a job preparing them as you did,” I replied as I helped myself to slices of quiche and tarte flambée.

What followed was a Midwinter Masque quite unlike any I’d ever attended. To compare it to the masques at the Palace or Cereus House was as pointless as comparing a rabbit to a swan. They were entirely different experiences, for all that they are both Midwinter Masques. Suffice it to say that the food was quite delicious and I enjoyed the company greatly. Joie flowed freely, along with L’Agnacite wine and the pear brandy no visit to Lombelon would be complete without. I drank a bit more than was my usual want. Anne on the other hand contented herself with a single glass of joie owing to her condition.

When the meal was over, instruments were fetched and several folk left their seats to begin playing. Others moved to the open space between the tables and began to dance. Anne and I watched in comfortable silence for a few minutes. These were not the formal court dances I knew. No, they were the same sort of country dances I’d seen at other celebrations I’d attended at Lombelon. In all likelihood they were traditional L’Agnacite country dances. Each province had its own traditional dances entirely separate from the formal dances found at court. I was well-versed in the Camaeline ones and had more than a passing acquaintance with the Kusheline ones as well. Eventually the lively music gave way to a slower tune. I looked at Anne. “Would you care for a dance?”

“Dance? With you?”

“Of course.”

She blushed a little. “I don’t know anything of formal court dances.”

“Then we’ll start with somewhat simple.” I stood and offered her an arm. “I’ll lead and all you need do is follow.”

She laid a hesitant hand on my arm. “As you wish.”

Together we walked out to the center of the room. Several of the other dancers halted what they were doing to stare at us. Those nearest us moved out of the way to give us space. I took Anne’s hand in mine and laid a hand on her waist. “Put your other hand on my arm,” I instructed, “and try your best to follow me and not step on my feet.”

She smiled. “I think I can manage that.” The musicians took up their instruments and our dance began. I kept it simple, leading Anne across the floor. She was able to keep pace with me without any difficulties. It made me think of how well-matched we were in bed, how attuned we were to each other. As we danced, the crowd around us seemed to disappear until Anne might’ve been the only one there. Her mask completely failed to hide the love that was plain on her face. I could lose myself in the depths of those hazel eyes.

“You’re a good dancer,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have guessed it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Not even with all those times you’ve watched my sword practice?”

“Well, that isn’t dancing exactly.”

“It’s not so very different from it. The footwork is important.” It wasn’t the first time someone had complemented my dancing. The Shahrizai were surprised to find me a passing good dancer when I arrived to foster among them. More recently Ysandre de la Courcel had praised my dancing skills while dancing with me at a fête. Anne and I danced to several more songs until the hour grew late. “That’s certainly a good start,” I remarked once we’d returned to our seats. “It shouldn’t take you long to learn courtly dances.”

“I suspect not with such a good teacher.”

We were interrupted by the doors of the great hall opening wide to admit the Winter Queen. She looked much the same as other Winter Queens I’d seen, dressed as she was in a ragged cloak and hobbling along with her staff. “Our Winter Queen wears the same costume every year,” Anne remarked. “Same thing with the Sun Prince. All we do is make alterations as needed.”

The lights were extinguished. The doors opened once again to admit the Sun Prince. He tapped the Winter Queen on the shoulder with his spear. She cast off her cloak and the lights were restored. The new year had begun. “Were you ever the Winter Queen?”

“Yes. More than once. What about you? Were you the Sun Prince?”

“Of course. Once the year before I went to the Shahrizai and once the year after.”

Anne lifted a hand to stroke my hair gently. “You must’ve made a fine Sun Prince with your beautiful hair.”

Elua, I loved it when she called my hair beautiful. It was my one vanity. I avoided tying it back specifically so I could show it to its best advantage. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

After the appearance of the Sun Prince, the celebration began to wind down. Many people left the hall to retire for the night. We had no obligation to stay for the rest of the masque and thus made our exit. With the whole staff enjoying the masque, a fire hadn’t already been laid in my bedchamber. I saw to it quickly, then removed my mask and crown. After wearing them for hours, it was a relief to take them off. Anne did the same with hers and a moment later we sat together on the bed. A bottle of joie and two glasses stood on the bedside table. I hadn’t requested it. “Your doing?”

Anne nodded. “I thought we might enjoy some in private.” She uncorked the bottle and filled both glasses. “Joy to you on the Longest Night, Isidore.”

I raised the glass. “All the same to you, Anne. Joy.” I drained the glass in one go. Never let it be said I didn’t learn anything during my association with Prince Baudoin. I took a brief moment to savior the icy bite of the joie. I would easily name it my favorite liqueur if asked. There’s somewhat in it that always reminds me of Camlach, as if it retained some memory of the high places where the snowdrops grew. I set the glass on the table and looked at Anne. She sipped the last of the joie and placed her empty glass beside mine. I kissed her then, tasting the joie on her lips. She returned the kiss with equal ardor and we drank deeply from each other. Our costumes were soon a pile on the floor.

We savored each other that night. I must’ve kissed and stroked every part of her and she did the same to me. Somewhat about the simple fact that she was carrying my child made me even more aroused that I usually was. She was not showing yet—it was too early for that—but I couldn’t help stroking her stomach more than was my usual wont. Anne told me she’d already spoken with the local priestess of Eisheth, who guessed our child would be born in early summer. With luck the impending Skaldi invasion would be over by then and I could return to Lombelon to attend the birth.

I pulled her closer to me until I could feel the entirety of her pressed tight against me. She had exactly the sort of richly-curved figure prized in Camlach for the promise of warmth on the coldest winter nights. I laid a hand on her arse and buried another in her hair as if I could keep her from harm if I held her close enough. My mind was too active from the excitement of the day for me to fall asleep easily. Even after Anne fell asleep I lay awake, my thoughts turning to our child. I tried to imagine what the mingling of my blood with Anne’s would produce. Would our child be more Camaeline or L’Agnacite? Camaeline, I was fairly certain. I was of one of the purest Camaeline bloodlines, after all. But mayhap there’d be a love for gardens in there. A son with my hair and somewhat of Anne in his face. Or mayhap a daughter, but in truth I was more excited by the idea of a son. It made no practical difference—a daughter could inherit as well as a son. We are a civilized people, after all. A son, though—a son I could teach to wield a sword, draw a bow, lead the Allies of Camlach in battle, as my father had taught me the entirety of Camael’s Arts.

With that pleasant thought, I finally drifted off to sleep.

With the Longest Night now passed, my natality was soon upon us. I did not generally want a big fuss made of it, a preference formed after years of the Shahrizai and Baudoin insisting on throwing fêtes for the occasion. This year I was determined to spend the day with Anne. The only thing that disrupted our time together was a message from Melisande, and I quickly dispatched several of my men-at-arms to carry out her request. I had to wonder if she knew about Anne and me. All the local folk did. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if Melisande did as well.

When the day of my natality came, thoughts of Melisande’s request vanished entirely from my mind at the prospect of spending the day with Anne. She insisted on marking the occasion, and I was happy to go along with it. She spent a portion of her time in the kitchen, preparing a special dinner. It consisted of Camaeline dishes, some which I specifically requested. To be able to enjoy some comforts of home while also spending time with Anne was the best birthday gift I could’ve hoped for.

Anne had other gifts for me. “You really did not need to do this,” I said as I followed her into the bedchamber.

“I know. But I wanted to anyway.” She gestured to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, where she’d laid out my gifts. A pair of shirts were draped over the arms of the chair, with a smaller square of cloth resting between them.

“You made me shirts. But how…?”

“I might’ve… borrowed one of your shirts while you were last here so I could get your measurements,” she admitted. “I know they’re not as fine as what you usually wear…”

“They’re just perfect. Thank you, Anne.” The shirts were fairly plain, with little in the way of embellishment on the collars and cuffs. Not that I don’t wear shirts with lace trim on occasion, but it is not my preference. My eyes then shifted to the square of cloth lying on the seat of the chair. It was a handkerchief. A closer look revealed she’d embroidered it. That took me aback for a moment—I hadn’t known Anne had such skill in embroidery. She’d stitched a pair of silver eagles in opposite corners, with pear blossoms at their feet.

“I copied them from the eagles on your standard,” said Anne.

“It’s quite a good likeness.”

“I wanted to give you a lover’s token you might take with you when you ride off to war again.”

Her words fell heavily between us. I’d not spoken of the coming Skaldi invasion to her at all during this visit. Better not to speak of it at all than dwell on what I had to keep hidden from her. I steered the conversation away from the impending invasion. “A very thoughtful gift. I’ll be sure to keep it with me.”

“I’m so pleased you like it.” Anne smiled. “I’ve been quite busy with sewing lately, for I mean to make a quilt for our child.”

“Really? I’ve not seen you doing anything of that sort since I’ve been here.”

“That’s because I’ve been too busy spending time with you.”

I sat on the bed. “Well, you can rest assured our child will have all the blankets he could possibly want.”

She raised an eyebrow. “He?”

“Or she,” I added. “I’ve been thinking I’d like to have a son. The idea of teaching him to wield a sword really appeals to me.”

“Could you not teach a daughter?”

I considered her question a moment before answering. “I could, yes. Camaeline women are taught to defend themselves should they be attacked, but they don’t fight on the battlefield.” I met Anne’s eyes. “You know I wouldn’t love any daughter of ours any less.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, amused, “and in case you were wondering I have no particular preference for a son or daughter.”

I spent most of the winter at Lombelon. Business did call me away from time-to-time, but for the most part I was able to spend much of my time with Anne. There was a sense of urgency in it as winter began to loosen its icy grip on the land. When the days grew warm enough that I judged the nearest pass to be open, I left for Camlach.

It was a difficult parting, the most difficult we’d had thus far.

Soon I would be at war.

Notes

I’ve been writing Kushielfic for 10 years, & this is the 1st time I’ve actually managed to post a Longest Night scene on the Longest Night. Enjoy, & joy to you on this Longest Night!

#kushiel's legacy #simple pleasures #jesatriafic #isidore d'aiglemort #anne livet

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theseveredhead · 5 years

Text

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#secondary

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phantom-le6 · 3 years

Text

Episode Reviews - Star Trek The Next Generation Season 1 (4 of 6)

Ok, loyal readers, one last round of reviews for season 1 of Star Trek TNG while we’re still in January, and then the rest can be left to next month. Without further ado, here’s my look at episodes 15 to 19 of that season…

Episode 15: 11001001

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Federation starship Enterprise arrives at Starbase 74 for a routine maintenance check. Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Commander William Riker greet Starbase Commander Quinteros and two pairs of small humanoid aliens known as Bynars; the Bynars heavily rely on their computer technology and work in pairs for best efficiency. Much of the crew take shore leave while Picard, Riker and a skeleton crew remain aboard. Riker is intrigued by the Bynars' claimed upgrades to the holodeck and starts a program in a jazz bar. The program includes a woman named Minuet, by whom Riker is fascinated, both as a beautiful and charming woman, but also by the level of sophistication in her responses. Riker is soon enthralled by the program, and Picard later walks in on him kissing Minuet, and he too is amazed by the simulation.

Meanwhile, a catastrophic containment failure is detected in the ship's warp core. Lt. Cmdr. Data and Lt. Geordi La Forge are unable to locate Picard or Riker and, assuming them to already be on the Starbase, order an emergency evacuation. They set the ship to leave the Starbase and warp to a safe location before it would explode. However, once they are clear of the dock, the failure disappears and the ship sets course for the Bynar system, the planet Bynaus orbiting Beta Magellan. Data, La Forge, and Quinteros realize that the Bynars are still aboard the ship, but there are currently no other working vessels to follow them. Back on the Enterprise, Riker and Picard leave the simulation to find the ship empty and at warp to the Bynar system, with the ship's controls locked to the bridge. Fearing that the Bynars have taken over the ship for nefarious purposes, they set the ship to self-destruct in 5 minutes and then take the bridge by intra-ship transporter beam and find the Bynars there unconscious.

After cancelling the self-destruct, they find the Bynars have uploaded massive amounts of information to the Enterprise computers, but they are unable to decode it. Realizing that Minuet was purposely created by the Bynars to distract them, Picard and Riker ask the simulation about what is going on as the ship nears the orbit of Bynaus. Minuet explains that a star near the Bynar homeworld had gone supernova, and the EMP it emitted would knock out their computer systems, effectively killing the Bynars. They had used the Enterprise to upload their computer information for safekeeping and then planned to download it back to the Bynar computers after the threat of the EMP had passed. With Data's help, Picard and Riker successfully download the data, and the Bynars recover. They apologize for their actions, having feared that Starfleet would refuse to help, though Picard notes they only had to ask. As the Enterprise returns to Starbase 74, Riker returns to the holodeck to thank Minuet but finds that without the Bynar data, the simulation has regressed to the expected norm for the holodeck, and while Minuet still exists, she is not the same as before. Riker reports to Picard that Minuet is gone.

Review:

This episode could be one of the best of the first season of TNG, if it knew what to be. First, we get the Bynars, who are an interesting concept along the lines of human-machine interface and the general concept of cyborg races, but that isn’t explored to any great degree. Next, we get another advancement in holodeck characters in the form of Minuet, who displays an incredible degree of awareness and interactivity that would pave the way for audiences to buy into characters in later Trek like TNG’s sentient Moriarty programme, DS9’s Vic Fontaine and the Fair Haven townspeople on Voyager.

However, the Bynar plot elements prevent us from exploring fully just how realistic Minuet was. In essence, the two plots interrupt each other for a random starship heist that comes out of the proverbial blue. It is interesting, however, to see Data reproaching himself for being busy with exploring the idea of creativity in his quarters when the ship gets into trouble. It’s a remarkably human trait for Data to have at this stage in his character arc, and is a testament to Spiner’s ability to play the character so well that it doesn’t feel out of place.

That said, Riker’s comment about ‘a blind man teaching an android how to paint’ being ‘worth a page or two in somebody’s book’ feels a little dismissive towards those who are differently abled. Given that Geordi can see in his own way, his visor being just a sci-fi metaphor for how the blind simply rely more on their other senses in real life, I see nothing remarkable about him being the one to teach Data about art. Art is not about your senses or even your hands; it comes from the heart and mind, from who a person is, and their desire to express a feeling or idea. People who are blind are no more or less capable of producing art than those who are sighted; they just have to pick a medium that works for them, same as any artist does. Overall, I give this episode about 6 out of 10.

Episode 16: Too Short A Season

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise, under the command of Captain Jean-Luc Picard, brings aboard the elderly Admiral Mark Jameson and his wife Anne on request of Karnas, the Governor of Mordan IV. Karnas warns that a dissident terrorist group has taken a Federation Ambassador and his staff hostage, and demand to speak to a Federation negotiator. Jameson had negotiated a previous settlement on Mordan IV. As the ship travels to Mordan IV, Jameson becomes stronger and more able to move about on his own, and no longer shows signs of the incurable Iverson's Disease he was known to have before he was beamed aboard. Jameson admits to taking an array of drugs to reverse the aging process over the last two years, and only recently has taken an overdose of the drugs to prepare himself for the negotiations. Jameson begins to appear younger and full of energy, but has frequent pains as a result of the overdose. By the time they are nearing Mordan, Jameson appears as a young adult.

As they approach the planet, Jameson begins communication with Karnas to learn more of the situation, but soon intuits that it is Karnas himself that has taken the Federation staff. Karnas reminds Jameson that his treachery during their last encounter on Mordan IV resulted in years of war. Against the advice of Picard, Jameson devises plans to rescue the hostages by transporting the away team to the tunnels beneath Karnas' mansion, where Jameson believes the hostages are being held. Picard privately confronts Jameson about Karnas' motives. Jameson reveals that in the past, Karnas captured a Federation starliner in revenge for the death of his father by another local tribe. Jameson negotiated for the passengers' release by giving Karnas what he demanded, a supply of Federation weapons. However, Jameson, in his interpretation of the Prime Directive, also supplied the warring tribes with the same weapons to keep all sides in the conflict on even terms. Jameson had thought this would only lead to a short-lived skirmish, and had not expected a war that would last over forty years. Jameson is now insistent on correcting his past mistake and thus took the reverse aging drug in order to be at his best.

In orbit, the Enterprise crew and Jameson beam down into the tunnels beneath Karnas' manor, but find that their arrival was anticipated and face off against armed guards. Jameson collapses during the fight, and the crew beams back to the Enterprise. Jameson was not shot, but the reverse aging drug is destroying his body. Karnas demands to see Jameson or he will kill a hostage every 15 minutes. Picard opts to beam himself, Dr Crusher, Jameson, and eventually Jameson's wife Anne directly to Karnas' office. Karnas refuses to believe that the young man is Jameson, so Jameson reveals a scar on his wrist inflicted by Karnas years ago. Jameson dies shortly afterward in his wife's embrace. Karnas agrees to let the hostages go, and to allow Jameson to be buried on Mordan IV at Anne's request.

Review:

This is another example of TNG getting a decent premise for an episode and then bottling the execution, which as we’ve seen from all my reviews up to this point was par for the course on the first season. The idea of a proverbial “fountain of youth” isn’t really explored in any depth or detail, making any argument the episode might be making against fighting the process of aging inaudible. The episode would have been better served by chucking that story out and putting more time into the guest character of Admiral Jameson turning out to be a dirty Star Fleet officer. The idea that a Star Fleet officer might really cross the line with the Prime Directive seems far more interesting, as it would have added a little more realism to Roddenbery’s ideal of the future that Trek is supposed to be.

Sadly, like many reviewers, I find that the episode is too focused on Jameson over both story ideas that the main cast are virtually demoted to extras, and this is made even worse by the guest actor somewhat over-playing the scenes where he’s an old man. Overall, the episode ends up as just filler on the way to better episodes later on the series as a whole. I’d give this one about 3 out of 10.

Episode 17: When The Bough Breaks

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

The Enterprise enters the Epsilon Mynos system, searching for the legendary world of Aldea. The planet de-cloaks, and reveals itself to the ship. The Aldeans beam down Commander William Riker, Counsellor Deanna Troi, and Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher to the planet. The Aldeans explain that they have been unable to bear children for many years and revealed themselves to the Enterprise in hopes they could trade their advanced technology for some of the Enterprise's children so that they can re-populate their world. Riker refuses and the crew are returned to the Enterprise. Simultaneously, seven children, including young Wesley Crusher, are taken down to the planet protected by a planetary energy shield that the crew of the Enterprise are unable to penetrate. While the Aldean elders attempt to integrate the children into their society, Wesley is shown the "Custodian", an ancient computer system that the Aldeans rely on but do not understand.

As Captain Jean-Luc Picard attempts to negotiate with the Aldeans, they briefly allow Dr Crusher to reunite with her son on the planet. Wesley hints about the Custodian to her, while she secretly passes him a tricorder to scan the Aldeans. After Picard fails to get the Aldeans to agree to the children's return, they fire an energy weapon that sends the Enterprise three days away from Aldea at maximum warp. The Aldeans warn that they can send the Enterprise an impossibly far distance if they refuse to cooperate. During the return trip, Dr Crusher reviews the scanner results and finds the Aldeans are suffering from radiation poisoning, which has harmed their reproductive capabilities but can be reversed if the source is discovered. On arrival back at the planet, Picard orders the crew to try to find a way through the planet's shield while he restarts negotiations.

Wesley, aware the Enterprise is in orbit, arranges for the children to passively resist. When the Aldeans request Picard's help to resolve the issue with the children, the crew finds a way to beam through the shield, allowing Commander Riker and Lt. Commander Data to sneak onto the planet. Data manages to disable the Custodian, disrupting the Aldean's transporter and planetary shield. Dr Crusher explains to the Aldeans that their shield has weakened the ozone layer of their planet, exposing the inhabitants to ultraviolet radiation that has left them unable to bear children. The radiation would likely have the same effects on the children from the Enterprise. Without the planetary shield, the ozone layer will naturally return, allowing the Aldeans to reproduce again. The Aldeans recognize the error of their ways and return the children to the Enterprise. They accept Starfleet's help to correct their ancient systems and recognize that they will have to forgo their invisibility to continue their society.

Review:

While some reviewers have apparently disliked this episode for its point about how humans at the time of the show, and still today, mess up the ozone layer being unsubtle, I disagree. Unlike the people of the Star Trek universe, real world humanity can’t just pick up and warp off to another life-sustaining world if we muck our own planet up beyond even the possibility of repair. As such, any form of fiction that’s trying to press this point should never be subtle. It has to press it home, hard, and if needs be it needs to hammer an audience about the head with the point until it sticks, and let’s face it, the idea that ozone depletion could cause mass infertility and drive a society into becoming child snatchers is an interesting take on the idea.

The problem this episode suffers, however, is that the Aldeans so effectively keep the Enterprise crew on the back foot that they aren’t able to provide the level of visceral response a plot like this needs. Picard’s initial verbal outrage is about as good as we get in terms of any primal response from the Federation adults, and the children don’t display the level of resistance they should considering they’ve been effectively kidnapped. Franchises like CSI or NCIS do better in this line, especially with regards to rescuing the children and punishing their abductors.

I don’t care what the excuse is for the Aldean’s behaviour; Picard should have had Riker and Data take down the shield around Aldea, beamed all his people back to the Enterprise and fired a spread of photon torpedoes down from orbit as a punitive measure. The idea that there’s no real reprisal for the Aldeans for being a bunch of heartless child abductors is what makes me really dislike this episode. If letting such barbarism and criminality go unpunished is what the utopian future of Trek demands, then I think we need to stop just short of that future and never, ever realise it completely.

All that said, we get one of the better performances so far from Wil Wheaton as Wesley, and Picard is decidedly improved in terms of how he behaves around children. However, the lack of a phaser-heavy resolution to the child abduction aspect of the story means I can’t see this as a good episode at all. The few plus points of the episode only get it up to a score of 3 out of 10.

Episode 18: Home Soil

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

Diverted from exploring the Pleiades, the Enterprise arrives at the terraforming colony on Velara III, as the project is behind schedule. The director, Kurt Mandl, insists they are on time but Captain Jean-Luc Picard orders an away team to the surface after Counsellor Deanna Troi senses that Mandl is hiding something. After they arrive, one of Mandl's team is killed by a malfunctioning laser drill. During Lt. Commander Data's inspection of the tool, it begins to fire at him, but his quick android reflexes allow him to dodge the shot and render the drill harmless. He finds the programming of the laser was rewritten to fire upon the staff. Nearby, a crystal is discovered giving off irregular light and radiation patterns. The crystal is brought aboard the Enterprise to study and Picard orders a halt to the terraforming.

Dr Beverly Crusher and Data discover the crystal may be alive. When the crystal attempts to interact with the Enterprise's computers, it is placed into a containment force field. The crystal begins to grow and gains access to the computer's translation program and attempts to communicate with the crew, treating the humans as an enemy, derisively calling them "ugly bags of mostly water". Picard discovers that Mandl and his team previously encountered the crystals; at the time, they knew about light patterns coming from them, but never considered the possibility that the crystals were alive. The terraformers used a drilling process responsible for removing the saline water layer from the water table of Velara III. This saline layer acted as a conductor, allowing many separate crystals to function as one life form. In a defensive response to the drilling, the crystal life form rewrote the laser's software and attacked the terraformers.

Data hypothesizes that a single crystal is not intelligent, but when linked to other crystals, their intelligence is formidable. As the crystalline life form accesses higher-level functions of the Enterprise's computer, Picard and the crew try to transport it to the surface but the crystal blocks all attempts to transport it off the ship. Data and Lt. Geordi La Forge discover the presence of cadmium in the crystal and suspect it has photoelectric properties. They disable the lights in the medical lab and the crystal immediately begs for life. Picard peacefully negotiates to return the crystal life form to the surface of the planet where Starfleet will institute a quarantine, leaving the life form to live in peace.

Review:

This episode is a quite bland and largely forgettable enterprise (pardon the pun) by those who made this series. Other reviewers have apparently noted a similarity to the original series of Star Trek, but as someone whose fandom of Trek is primarily related to the Picard-Sisko-Janeway era and only enjoys Kirk’s crew in their rebooted film format, I’m not about to go looking into that. Instead, I look at the episode itself, which falls flat about halfway through.

The area where the episode falls apart is right around the time we start going into the idea of an inorganic crystalline structure being alive. Up until that point, the way the terraformers acted, one of them dying and Data then almost going the same way all seemed to point to one thing; a possible murder-mystery, and with Data’s fascination with Sherlock Holmes and Picard’s affinity for Dixon Hill, we could have had a great mystery story. Instead, we go full-tilt into a very sci-fi plot that doesn’t reveal much of a point plot-wise. Granted, the metaphor of inorganic life being accidentally destroyed by haste and the desire to play god with one’s environment is good Trek fare, or at least in keeping with general Trek tradition. However, we already saw a crystal-based lifeform back in Datalore, and we just had an eco-friendly message in the episode right before this one. As such, the episode lacks continuity and variation enough to make it anything really good. I’d give it only 4 out of 10.

Episode 19: Coming Of Age

Plot (as adapted from Wikipedia):

Captain Jean-Luc Picard greets his friend Admiral Gregory Quinn and his assistant Lt. Commander Dexter Remmick aboard the Enterprise. For classified reasons, Quinn has ordered Remmick to perform an investigation of the Enterprise and its crew and expects Picard to fully co-operate. Remmick's inquiry causes tension in the crew, particularly when he questions the trustworthiness of the senior staff based on their personal logs and past actions. A young cadet, having failed the Starfleet Academy entrance examination, attempts to run away in a shuttlecraft but ends up drifting. Picard is able to direct the cadet to pilot the shuttle away from a planet by bouncing off the atmosphere.

The investigation is completed, and Remmick informs both Picard and Quinn that there is no sign of wrongdoing, and expresses his interest in joining its crew in the future. Quinn tells Picard that he feels there is an unknown force that may have infiltrated Starfleet, and he was seeking to assure himself of his trust in Picard and the Enterprise crew. To help combat this threat, Quinn offers Picard a promotion to Commandant of Starfleet Academy which would place Picard near Quinn at all times. Picard mulls the offer for some time, but eventually declines.

Meanwhile, Wesley Crusher prepares to take the Academy entrance exam himself. He succeeds in passing several parts of the exam, and helps Mordock, a highly talented Benzite and fellow competitor, to solve a difficult test problem so that they may both advance. Wesley is worried about the psychological part of the exam, and he is directed to a room to wait for the test to start.

While waiting, he hears an explosion nearby, and leaves the room to investigate. He finds two men trapped by fallen components in a fire-engulfed room. Wesley helps to release one man wounded under a heavy pipe, and tries to coax the other man to leave the burning room, but the man is frozen with fear. Wesley is forced to abandon him and drags the other man to safety. Outside the room, he discovers the explosion was fake and this was the psychological test: to see whether he could make a difficult decision (rescuing either man would pass the test).

Eventually, the cadets are told of the results, and Mordock is granted admission into Starfleet Academy, while Wesley is encouraged to try again next year. Mordock thanks Wesley for his help and wishes him future success. After Wesley returns to the Enterprise, Picard confides in him that he also failed the examination the first time.

Review:

Coming Of Age is the first episode of this show that hasn’t been flawed in concept, and actually has two quite decent plots that both work reasonably well. Granted, in terms of the inquisition of the Enterprise crew by Remmick, it does grate in places because characters like Remmick are designed to be abrasive and unlikeable by design. Moreover, it’s good to see some of how Picard and his crew have acted in past episodes called into question, even if the whole thing is only so much smoke and mirrors.

In turn, Wesley’s story was a good one to watch as well, which is remarkable considering how horribly Wesley was being written in much of this show’s early episodes. It’s also interesting to see the two plots interconnecting at the end through Wesley and Picard, and the scene where they talk in the observation lounge near the end is the kind of good quality scene we should have been getting between the pair from earlier on. I know from behind-the-scenes features that to help Patrick Stewart understand his role, Roddenberry cited the Hornblower novel series. As a fan of the TV adaptations of Hornblower done by ITV, I can see that under different circumstances, Picard and Wesley could have become equivalent to Sir Edward Pellew and Hornblower in their relationship. Sadly, it didn’t turn out that way, but I’m glad to finally get a truly decent episode out of this season. I give it 8 out of 10.

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gutsybitsies · 7 years

Text

part of pride and prejudice pnp au (due to tech difficulties ie forgetfulness, parks and rec au and pride and prejudice au are in the same tag...). i’ve decided to say “fuck it” to writing this in a wholesome linear fashion. people know what happens anyway. hit me up on which scene from pride and prejudice u wanna see!

part 1

part ?

It was 3 am in the morning when a loud knock woke everyone in Lardo’s dilapidated Haus 2.0, except for Lardo. Bitty and Ransom blearily opened their eyes as the knocking continued.

“Shot not,” Bitty said. “You go see who’s making that huge racket.” He pushed Ransom out of the guest bed they were sharing.

Ransom fell on the floor with a thump. “Why doesn’t this woman ever buy comfortable rugs? I’m getting her one for Christmas.”

“She complains about cleaning them,” Bitty replied. “Go, or that person’s not gonna stop.”

Ransom yawned and cracked his neck as he left the guestroom, grabbing a hockey stick along the way in case there was a crazy person standing outside the door.

Ransom swung open the door, hockey stick and hand, and ended up looking at a very tall, imposing old woman. There was a tired younger woman standing at her side, holding a suitcase and clutching a phone.

“Who are you?” The old woman asked.

“Uhhh...” Ransom blinked and opened his eyes wider to make sure that he was indeed seeing an old lady standing in front of his friend’s door at 3 am. “Who are you?”

“I am Catherine de Bourgh-Knight,” she said haughtily. “Is this...residence...” she looked at the Haus with disdain, “...where Larissa Duan resides?”

Ransom pursed his lips together. Haus 2.0 was important to him. It may not be the original Haus at Samwell, but it was the place Lardo shared with him, Holster, and Bitty when they started their first real adult jobs. And this woman was looking at it like it was a dump.

“This is where Lardo lives, yeah.” He said.

“Ah, well. I found the place then,” she pushed past him, leading the woman behind her inside the house without even asking for Ransom’s permission. “Thank you for inviting me into this...quaint dwelling.”

“Hey, what the fuck? You can’t just barge in like this! It’s 3 am in the morning!” Ransom said, not sure what the do as the younger woman closed the door politely and Catherine de Bourgh-Knight made her way into the living room.

Ransom fingers itched as he stopped himself from trying to haul them out of the house and shut the door in their faces. A tall, bulky 6′2′’ black man couldn’t just physically drag an old white lady out of the house.

“Bitty!” He kept an eye on the women while he called for Bits. He was pretty sure Bitty can push them out without consequence. “Bitty!!! We have guests!”

Bitty bursted out of the guestroom, which was directly opposite from the living room, clearly rumpled from sleep, while holding another hockey stick.

“I’m here, Ranso-” He stared at the scene in the living room. Bitty, like Ransom, blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure that there was indeed a tall, imposing old woman standing with a posture full of disdain inside the living room. “Um.”

“They just came in after I opened the door,” Ransom explained.

“I’m here for Larissa Duan, I have a great opportunity for her and she will not regret talking with me.” the lady said, she looked at the couch. “Is this thing safe to sit on?”

“Yes,” Bitty lied through his teeth. “But it is the middle of the night! Ma’am, we cannot be having with this!”

“Lards is asleep, you’re not seeing her.” Ransom said. He waved a hand at the door. “Please leave.”

“Do you two know who I am? I am Catherine de Bough-Knight, chairwomen of more committees than I care to remember. It is extremely advantageous for the both of you to listen to me now, or I can and will be able to make life difficult for you.” Catherine de Bourgh-Knight said and aggressively thumped the floor with her cane.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Bitty walked over and started to physically herd her away with his hockey stick. “Ransom’s got the right idea, we’re not letting you see her.”

Catherine looked at the young woman next to her, who mustered up a breath.

“Larissa Duan you come out right now!!” The young woman shouted.

Ransom heard the telltale creak on the ceiling that meant that Lardo had gotten up from bed. Another creak told him that her bedroom door was open. At this point in time, Bitty had stopped trying to push the two women out as Lardo’s footsteps came down the stairs methodically. First her feet appeared, then her legs, and finally the whole full Lardo emerged. She was wearing Holster’s old hoodie that he swore he lost months ago and Bitty’s new shorts that Bitty swore he didn’t lose.

“It is...” Lardo looked at her phone. “2 am in the morning. No. 3 am. Mrs. de Bourgh, I hope you have a very good reason for coming to this place.”

Catherine de Bourgh-Knight looked shocked at Lardo’s abrupt way of speaking, as if she expected Lardo to thank her for visiting her in the middle of the night. Of course someone like Larissa Duan should be grateful that she took time out of her busy schedule to see her.

“I must converse with you,” Catherine said haughtily. “I suppose I will, as the gracious person, thank you instead for attending to me at this hour.”

“And I’m gracious enough to say you’re very welcome,” Lardo said blithely. “Let’s go in the backyard. Rans, Bits, you two can go back to sleep.”

“No man,” Ransom said. “We’re not leaving you alone.”

“This is a matter of utter privacy and sensitivity,” said Catherine. “I must insist that I speak with Miss Duan alone.”

Lardo gave Bitty and Ransom a thumbs up and led Catherine de Bourgh-Knight into the yard, but not before Ransom grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the pile of laundry on the living room table and threw it to her. The young woman from before hung behind and stayed inside with Bitty and Ransom while they waited.

There was a full moon out that night; two months ago Lardo had received a package of moon cakes from Chowder. He’d timed it so that she received the package on the exact day of the Mid Autumn festival. She never had any time to celebrate it herself, but this year she’d made a pair of matching masks to send to Chowder and Farmer in return for Chowder’s gift.

While Lardo contemplated the moon, Catherine drew herself up and wasted no time in starting to speak.

“You know the reason I’m here, Miss Duan.” She said gravely. “I don’t wish to beat around the bush, you surely do know my reputation for being a straightforward woman.”

“I don’t know why you’re here,” Lardo said. She saw that Catherine frowned indignantly at her answer.

“Don’t make me spell it out loud for you, Miss Duan. You and I both know what this visit is about.”

Lardo pursed her lips and pretended to think. “Hmm. Nope. Nothing comes to mind. Unless you came to commission me for a piece of art. For you, I can set my rates real cheap. You’ll be happy with that kind of discount.”

“I received some alarming news in the rumor mill,” Catherine said. “Someone told me my nephew Bartholomew has intentions with you. Now of course someone like Bartholomew is expected to sow his wild oats before marriage, and your status is of the perfect level for a dalliance with him. But he is getting to be the age where we are all expecting him to settle down, and now whatever it is you have between you must stop.”

“Hmm,” Lardo said. Her mind was racing. Did Shitty still think of her? She hadn’t spoken with him outside of what her friendship with Jack necessitated them to. Even though Jack and Bitty’s relationship meant that they inevitably saw each other more often than before. Did he still think that she was likeable after all the snubbing she had given him?

Catherine grew more agitated at Lardo’s reticence.

“You must know that the position of Bartholomew’s partner in life, his wife, has already been chose. Now we understand that as a modern young man, he would like to have a few chosen romances of his own, but Bartholomew knows his duty to his family. Your relationship with him will never be serious or important. When the time comes, he will leave you. I’m telling you this for your own well being in order for you to avoid being humiliated when he inevitably rises to his own...class of people with more similarities to him.”

“Interesting,” Lardo said.

“This is common knowledge!” Catherine said. “Now, will you agree to leave him?”

“If Shitty is obviously going to leave an unimportant relationship, then let him leave on his own,” Lardo said.

“So you two are in a relationship?” Catherine asked intently.

“Hmmm,” Lardo shrugged.

“Miss Duan! I will have to tell you something then, to insist that you leave my nephew alone. He is in fact engaged to my daughter, Anne.”

“Wait what?” Lardo finally broke her chill.

Catherine triumphantly smiled. “Yes, I’ve discussed this engagement with his father since my dear Anne and Bartholomew were infants. It’s set in stone, his wife to be is Anne.”

“No, wait,” Lardo said, with enough emotion to make Catherine’s face look more smug until she continued, “Anne is his cousin. I thought you were going to tell me he’s engaged to a Vanderbilt, not his own cousin.”

“They are far apart enough that it’s legal,” Catherine said, a bit haltingly. “And in fact we do have kin ties with the Vanderbilts.”

“But you and his father are cousins.”

“Second cousins.”

“Didn’t they grow up together?”

“That makes them perfect and fitting for each other.”

“But they grew up together as people related to each other.”

“That’s not important-”

“No, no it is. I’m interested in this now. Just because something is legal doesn’t mean it’s not taboo. Does Anne really think of her cousin, who she’s known since childhood and presumably who she’s close as a sibling to him, does she really think of him as husband material?”

“You are an insolent young lady. No! Not a lady. You are a rude little hussy! You seduced my Bartholomew with your exotic nature and assume that he’s going to stay with you. Well, good luck to that because I know my nephew and he will never, ever, be with an uncouth young lady like you. He is a diligent young man who puts the will of his family first and graduated cum laude from Harvard law, and you are some hustler from the streets.”

“That’s very nice, Bartholomew sounds like a wonderful young man who makes good choices. And I’m sure that when the time comes, he’ll marry his cousin like the polite young man he is. You don’t need me to do anything.”

“His association with you will be the laughter of our community if you let this linger on longer!”

“He’s a tough guy, he can handle it. I’m sure he won’t be too charmed by my exoticness. If he is, then I’m afraid I can’t help you with anything. And you should leave my property now.” Lardo ignored the indignant huffs of Catherine and led her inside.

“You are going to regret my warning, Miss Duan! I have come here out of the goodness of my heart, in the middle of the night-”

“Oh, so she knows it’s the middle of the night!” Ransom exclaimed.

“Out of the goodness of my heart,” Catherine repeated. “To advise you on the dangerous waters that you are treading, and if you had listened to me with kindness and respect I would have offered you redress and compensation for your efforts! But as of my mistreatment in your home I will have a strong word with Bartholomew and my committees. And you can expect that neither your art nor your presence will be tolerated in any society that I preside over!”

Lardo ignored her and walked back up the stairs to her room. Bitty firmly guided the two women to the front door and shut it in their faces in the middle of Catherine’s firm “Good-bye and I shall ignore-!”

After a while, Lardo crept back downstairs, to find that Bitty and Ransom were waiting for her in the kitchen.

“Sleep with us tonight, okay?” Ransom asked. “Old cuddle pile?”

She smiled and walked with them to the guestroom. “Yep. Old cuddlepile.”

When she was sandwiched between Ransom and Bitty, she heard Bitty say, “You know, I knew there would be something good that comes out of that other room being out of order because of some old problem.”

“Shut UP don’t remind me!” Ransom whispered. “That used to be my room! There are roaches!!! In my room!!”

Lardo giggled, and she could feel her boys relax. Bitty fell asleep first, then Ransom, then Lardo drifted off, cocooned in family.

#larissa duan #shardo #omgcp pnp au #pnp au #words #my writings

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bethanydelleman · 1 year

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Anne de Bourgh is probably just sick

It really bothers me when people speculate that Anne isn’t really sick or that she is a victim of Munchhausen's by proxy because it makes Lady Catherine a monster instead of a uppity busy-body. There is nothing in the text to indicate that Anne is even unhappy at home or feels stifled by her mother! She is presented as ill.

First of all, it was very common back then for people to be sickly. No modern medicine meant vaccine preventable diseases were running rampant many of which can cause lifelong complications (except smallpox, that vaccine was rolling out) and if you had something like a heart condition, no medication or surgery. There are many "sickly" people in history who are suspected of all sorts of conditions. Anne could suffer from something as simple as chronic anemia or from a congenital heart condition or many other things. Diagnosis lagged behind cures in many cases, for example, Type 1 Diabetes has been correctly diagnosed for hundreds of years but it was just a death sentence until they learned how to manufacture insulin.

Second, Anne is physically different from her family and shockingly so. Maria cries out in surprise, “Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small!” Elizabeth later describes her thusly, “Miss de Bourgh was pale and sickly: her features, though not plain, were insignificant”. Given that almost every other member of the Fitzwilliam family (Darcy, Georgiana, and Lady Catherine) are described as tall and “formidable”, this indicates a long-standing illness.

Third, there is no evidence that Lady Catherine is in any way cruel or abusive towards her daughter. Anne has her little phaeton to ride around on, Lady Catherine brings people to play pianoforte and cards for her daughter's amusement, and she has a round the clock health attendant, Mrs. Jenkinson. She seems excessively concerned about Anne's health, which wouldn't help to fake keep her sick, "except when Mrs. Jenkinson expressed her fears of Miss de Bourgh’s being too hot or too cold, or having too much or too little light" and "Mrs. Jenkinson was chiefly employed in watching how little Miss de Bourgh ate, pressing her to try some other dish, and fearing she was indisposed,"

Fouth, Anne if anything, seems like a Lady Catherine mini-me than a poor stifled child. She makes Charlotte stand outside to talk to her, which Elizabeth calls rude. She also is a tyrant over her guests:

Miss De Bourgh chose to play at cassino, the two girls had the honour of assisting Mrs. Jenkinson to make up her party.... When Lady Catherine and her daughter had played as long as they chose

In Mansfield Park, Mrs. Grant makes a big pretense of wanting to play whist for her husband’s sake but making it seem like the guests’ choice. Both Anne and Lady Catherine choose without reference to their guests and they play for as long as they want.

But mostly, why in the world would Lady Catherine make her daughter sick if her life goal is to have Darcy marry Anne? Who is going to marry someone who looks like they will die in a stiff wind? Lady Catherine's probably relying on family duty because she knows her daughter is basically unmarriageable. She's frail! She can't even play piano much less run Pemberley, and Lady Catherine is aware of that which is why her only chance is hinting at her nephew and yelling at women he dares to propose to!

Now is it possible that Lady Catherine is treating Anne with something that makes her more ill? Certainly. But that would be an honest mistake and not malicious. Also, we see in Sense & Sensibility that the doctor tries a new remedy when the last fails, so I think it is more probable that Lady Catherine would have gone though many treatments and many doctors, all of whom have failed or maybe resulted in very small improvements.

Anne de Bourgh being an only child and a sickly one is Lady Catherine’s only sympathetic feature. It seems more likely to me that the reason Lady Catherine tries to control and advise others is because the only thing she can’t change is Anne. If Lady Catherine is inflicting this illness on Anne she just becomes an irrational monster. It’s far more likely that Lady Catherine is deeply disappointed that she can’t present Anne at court and parade her around.

People with MbyP usually want to be praised for taking care of their child. Not so with Lady Catherine. The compliments Lady Catherine appreciates are Mr. Collins saying it’s sad Anne can’t be out. She assures people that if Anne was well she would have been awesome. This points more to disappointed hopes than wanting to be seen as a supermom.

MbyP is also super rare. It's far more likely that Anne is just sick or is a result of too many cousins marrying cousins, or is a contrast to healthy, vibrant Elizabeth. Jane Austen also LOVES writing hypochondriacs and when she does, it is always very clear but Anne de Bourgh is presented as just sickly.

Additional Note: The JAFF trope where Elizabeth, uneducated girl that she is, knows what is wrong with Anne/knows the treatment is hurting her is just kind of laughable. If anything she would say something like, “You shouldn’t bleed her, mercury is the way to go.” Also Lady Catherine would probably laugh in her face and ask her for some credentials.

#anne de bough #lady catherine #people seem to want the villains to be BLACK #Lady Catherine is just a busy body #who is probably sad that her daughter isn't more awesome #it gives her humanity #jane austen #pride and prejudice

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veryfineday · 4 years

Text

Friday 1 April 1831

8 40/..

12 25/..

N N N Ͷ Ͷ L Vc

george tooK my notes to monsieur Julliart to monod (the boys will come) and to mr. Henry Edwards - out - no answer - good Friday - up at 6 20/.. for 1/4 hour but went to bed again -

Fahrenheit 40 1/2º at 6 1/2 and 42 1/2º at 9 1/2 at my desK at 9 50/.. - (breakfast at 12 in 1/2 hour - then some time talKing to my aunt -) wrote 3 pp.[pages] and long ends, and crossed the 1st page and wrote 3 lines crossing on the 2nd to M-[Maraina]

“Paris rue godot de m-[mauroy] no.39 - good Friday 1 April 1831 my dearest - you would see from my last how I was daily watching the post in anxious and confident expectation of hearing from you - In such a case, I could imagine no possible circumstances of occupation of time and thoughts that could account for the silence - there must be some physical impediment to prevent the writing of a few words; and, in the present state of the post between here and England, not daring to caculate on the loss of a letter, I concluded that harass and fatigue had KnocKed you up - ”

“In the midst of all this (on monday) miserable uncertainty, came a letter from Isabella - ‘I saw by yesterday’s paper that the poor little squire of Lawton is dead, and feel really sorry for it, as he was a harmless goodhearted little man, and mariana will have a loss in him’ - this confirmed my fears - How can it be that my 1st intelligence of such an event should be Isabella’s quotation from the public papers? I leave you to guess my anxiety till your letter arrived yesterday - I can well imagine how fully your ‘time and thoughts would be taKen up’, and how much writing you must have had - a moment’s reflection will now suggest to you to whom your 1st letter, on such an occasion, ought to have been written? Half a dozen words have been enough - the death of the (p2) poor little man does indeed seem to have been awfully sudden at the last; and I did not wonder at the shocK it is to you all - nor do I wonder at all at C-’s[Charles’s] being so low spirited, and nervous - the loss, especially the sudden loss of those to whom we have been long accustomed, is a melancholy warning to us all - what is unexpected has a double force, its own intrinsic importance multiplied into the suddenness of the shocK - Procrastination, says your favourate author, is the thief of time - Anticipation is the thief of pleasure and of pain - when have we dreampt of joy or sorrow, and waKing find the picture true?”

“you seem to have managed everything with your usual good judgement; and I can quite understand that your interrupted attentions must become more and more indispensable to C-[Charles], and the thought of your absence, for however short a time, less and less to be endured - all this is natural; and I have no longer any thought of all the schemes that have for months past been the little idols of my thoughts - If C-‘s[Charles’s] disinclination to leaving Lawton and having society continues, of course, I shall find you at home in July - but I hope and think you will all get up your spirits by and by; and perhaps you may then for some time to come, move about more than ever - Should this be the case, I must take my chance about finding you (p.3) somewhere or other - we shall not have seen each other for nearly 2 years and a 1/2, time enough to make you fancy me shambling over anxieties which I now begin to feel, you understand better so long as nine pence paid the postage, and thought met thought in 4 and 20 hours - I am not quite certain that it is at this moment your firm conviction, that you will find me as little changed at heart, as if time had stood still since the 7th of June 1813 - Do not mistake me - I do not mean the least insinuation, or shadow of insinuation, that you are at all sceptic in any leading article of faith - nothing is farther from my mind - but perhaps you then may be honest enough to agree that it is high time to interrupt the betweenity of seas, and alps, and all that pale cold mistiness that is the natural vestiture of absence - ”

“I am glad you approve my determination as to my aunt’s returning to Shibden - whatever may be the tenure of my father’s life I have not the least idea that any reason at present exists, or will, or can exist to induce the necessity of seeKing another residence for my aunt - I have not yet written to marian on the subject (shall write in a day or two), but have no doubt that matters will be arranged without diffculty - where I shall put myself, depends upon a variety of circumstances public and private - when I wrote of 3 weeKs at Lawton, and thought of 3 weeKs or a month with you on voyage, I was undetermined about my aunt, and never dreampt that the poor little squire’s pilgrimage was so nearly at an end - I cannot quite make out whether you have always been in really as fully aware as I have taKen it for granted you must be, that all plans concerning myself had a Lawton influence to undergo that I could not exactly sum up till July - what you may say, what C-[Charles] may say may weigh I Know not how much - Of course, it is not to be supposed that I shall just yet be served up every day in the stuffing, or as you would call it, forcemeat, at Shibden - nous verrons - I shall be anxious to hear the decision about Leamington - ”

“I am quite enter into the comfort it must have been to you to see mrs. milne - Do pray tell me how she is looKing - I am glad to hear little mariana has got so well over the measles - Isabella told me your mother had been very unwell - I hope and trust she is now quite recovered - Does she still live at Scarbro’? you never mention Louisa - Is she with your uncle? you talK of beginning to thinK of and looK after your own concerns - Do you mean your school, and the friendly society? I hope they are both flourishing - I see you are quite for the reform bill - at all rates, our town and parish of H-x[Halifax] will send two members - Isabella is so moderate on the subject to me, I should not have guessed her violent on any side - ”

“you will have got blacK earrings long before I see you, if not which you must tell me, I will choose for you here - what can I taKe that would be a nice little present for mariana? Except for this and some little something for C-[Charles] I have made up my mind not to pother myself - Do give my love to him, and say for me whatever you thinK will be Kind and acceptable on this melancholy occasion - my love, too, to mrs. milne - ”

“Just now you will not care for Paris news - It may interest mrs. milne to hear that the prevailing Longchamp bonnet colours are said to be pinK and sKy blue; and a little lace, or tulle, or net cap underneath trimmed with a row of little narrow riband boughs the colour of the bonnet, merely a plait of the tulle between each little bough, fait fureur, that is, is all the go, quite the thing - ”

“I tooK mademoiselle de Noé, a nice girl, or I should have been sicK to death of the thing yesterday - I am so stupid as not to have been to hear Paganini - I thinK more of July than of any other month of this year, and am always, mary, very especially and entirely yours AL-[Anne Lister] I had almost forgotten that mademoiselle de N-[Noé] told me to be particular in saying that the bonnets were smaller and closer than last year - moins évasés, plus à l’anglaise - sent off my Letter to ‘mrs. Lawton Lawton hall Cheshire Angleterre’ at 3 -

then wrote 4 pp.[pages] 1/2 the 1st page very very small and close continuing the proposal for my aunt’s going to Shibden terms for her and myself and servants etc. etc. - dressed - dinner at 6 1/2 - read Galignani - came to my room at 8 3/4 -

Coffee at 9 20/.. - talKing over to my aunt my Spanish journeys - then writing bill of fare for Sunday - Tiresome worK - obliged to thinK of even down to pats of butter - to have nobody can do this for me, is the thing this makes me disliKe having anyone to dinner and really puts me out of patience -

came to my room at 11 20/.. at which hour Fahrenheit 40 1/2º and fine frosty night - fine frostyish coldish day - Lady Stuart called this afternoon but did not leave a card - I had given orders to say nobody was at home as I was sitting in my dressing gown -

#anne lister code breaker #1831 #mariana lawton #isabella norcliffe #Harriet Milne #1832 reform bill

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kevinscottgardens · 4 years

Text

15-28 June 2020

It’s been a busy two weeks. Ann, Kitty and Chipette drove to France and Ann and Chipette will be staying until autumn. Kitty will be back for work in early July. The night they left I also had the absolute most excruciating bout of food poisoning of my life. I wanted to die. It was a bean salad I was finishing off after eating it twice earlier in the week, and it tasted perfect; however, by the time I finished washing the dishes, the pain started and only worsened over the next eight hours until I was able to vomit it all up and start to feel better. It wiped me out Friday, when, thankfully, I was working from home. I also worked that weekend, 20/21 June, which meant I had a short working week and a four-day birthday weekend! Saturday night I went to see Maarten, Mark and Mike in Kingston for dinner, the first meal I’d eaten since Thursday night, and it was delicious.

We’re making good headway in the garden and things are being brought back into order. I finally had my week in the glasshouses with Jess. I worked all week in the tropical corridor. I did a lot of planting, pruning, and pest eradication (mostly mealy bugs and aphids). We’ve been enjoying perfect summer weather too.

This week, I spent Monday and Tuesday cutting hedges which resulted in my back screaming and threatening to cramp. I cut the Elaeagnus × submacrophylla hedge with electric hedge cutters. It was the 400mm high Buxus sempervirens hedges that I cut back with sheers that hurt my back.

Thursday night I went to Elizabeth and Rob’s and we had a very nice evening which of course included some time in the jacuzzi. Dinner was duck with a sauce of grilled cherries and nectarines - delicious. I was still there at midnight so my first birthday toast! Friday evening I headed to Denis and André’s and we ate a succulent pot-roasted chicken and enjoyed a bottle of Jacquesson, my favourite Champagne. I blew out the candles with a hair-drier in light of the current precautions not to blow on food.

Saturday I made my way across London to visit Alexander and Stefan for our first catch up this year. Alexander made a delicious fish pie, one of my favourite meals. Sunday Susie and Louis came over and we enjoyed Negroni fizz and a leisurely afternoon of eating and drinking. Susie made one of her infamous risottos and a roast chicken. She also made Negroni cupcakes!

I’m very excited because I also received my invitation to Bruno et Stéphane’s wedding in December. I’m going to be Stéphane’s witness. I almost died laughing when I saw the photo...

Plant of the week 21 June

Verbenaceae Petrea volubilis L.

common name(s) - purple wreath, queen's wreath, sandpaper vine, sand paper synonym(s) - Petrea amazonica Moldenke; P. arborea Kunth; P. arborea f. albiflora Standl.; P. arborea var. broadwayi Moldenke; P. arborea f. broadwayi (Moldenke) Moldenke; P. arborescens Archer ex Moldenke [Invalid]; P. aspera Turcz.; P. aspera f. albiflora Moldenke; P. atrocoerulea Moldenke; P. colombiana Moldenke; P. erecta Lodd. [Invalid]; P. fragrantissima Rusby; P. kohautiana C.Presl; P. kohautiana f. alba (G.F.Freeman & W.G.Freeman) Moldenke; P. kohautiana var. anomala Moldenke; P. kohautiana var. pilosula Moldenke; P. mexicana Willd. ex Cham.; P. nitidula Moldenke; P. ovata M.Martens & Galeottip; P. racemosa Nees; P. racemosa f. alba (Kuhlm. ex Moldenke) Moldenke; P. racemosa var. alba Kuhlm. ex Moldenke; P. retusa C.Presl; P. riparia Moldenke; P. rivularis Moldenke; P. serrata C.Presl; P. stapeliae Paxton; P. subserrata Bárcena; P. subserrata Cham.; P. swallenii Moldenke; P. vincentina Turcz.; P. volubilis var. alba G.F.Freeman & W.G.Freeman; P. volubilis var. albiflora (Standl.) Moldenke; P. volubilis f. albiflora (Standl.) Standl.; P. volubilis var. mexicana Cham.; P. volubilis f. pubescens (Moldenke) Moldenke; P. volubilis var. pubescens Moldenke conservation rating - none native to - Mexico to Brazil location - tropical corridor, accession 1985-0696 leaves - rough, elliptic, dark green, paler beneath flowers - from spring into summer, sometimes again in autumn, erect or arching panicles of small, salver-form, purple flowers with prominent, lilac calyxes; tubular blue flowers only last a few days but the larger and more showy bluish purple calyces (see photo) remain, fading first to blue and finally to a pale grey colour habit - tender, vigorous, twining, semi-evergreen climber to height of 12m and a spread of 6m habitat - seasonal evergreen forest along streams, roadsides, steep limestone walls in dry forest, limestone outcrops, pastures on clay and rocky soil, and on rock pests - glasshouse red spider mite , red spider mite (box and other), scale insects disease - generally disease-free hardiness - to -5ºC (H3) soil - fertile, moist but well-drained soil in a sheltered position sun - full sun propagation - layering, semi-hardwood cuttings pruning - late winter or early spring nomenclature - Verbenaceae - verbena - sacred-bough, from the Latin name, verbena, verbenae, for the leafy twigs carried by priests, used in wreaths for Druidic ritual and in medicine, used by Virgil and Pliny for vervain, Verbena officinalis, Celtic, ferfain; Petrea - honours Lord Robert James Petre (1713-1743), of Ingatestone Hall in Essex, English patron of botany and horticulture; volubilis - twining NB - harvested from the wild for local medicinal use: flowers are combined with those of Chiococca alba to make an abortifacient tea, combined with Xanthosoma sp., Myrcia citrifolia and Capraria biflora to make an infusion that is used to treat diarrhoea; leaves are used in the treatment of diabetes; a methanol extract of the leaves (tincture) has shown hypoglycaemic activity; the crude sap obtained from the grated or macerated stem is used as a resolutive to soothe wounds and burns.

References, bibliography:

Gledhill, David, (2008) “The Names of Plants”, fourth edition; Cambridge University Press; ISBN: 978-0-52168-553-5

IUCN [online] http://www.iucnredlist.org/search [30 Jun 20]

Missouri Botanical Garden [online] http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/PlantFinder/PlantFinderDetails.aspx?kempercode=a539#AllImages [30 Jun 20]

Plant List, The [online] http://www.theplantlist.org/tpl1.1/record/kew-150919 [30 Jun 20]

Plants of the World [online] http://plantsoftheworldonline.org/taxon/urn:lsid:ipni.org:names:330591-2 [30 Jun 20]

San Marcos Growers [online] https://www.smgrowers.com/products/plants/plantdisplay.asp?plant_id=1221 [30 Jun 20]

Shoot Gardening [online] https://www.shootgardening.co.uk/plant/petrea-volubilis [30 Jun 20]

Useful Tropical Plants [online] http://tropical.theferns.info/viewtropical.php?id=Petrea+volubilis [30 Jun 20]

Plant of the week 28 June

Asteraceae Urospermum dalechampii (L.) Scop. ex F.W.Schmidt

common name(s) - smooth golden fleece, sheep's beard; français : chicorée amère, morre de porc, groin de porc, grimace synonym(s) - Arnopogon dalechampii (L.) Willd.; Tragopogon bicolor Moench [Illegitimate]; Tragopogon dalechampii L.; Tragopogon laetus Salisb. [Illegitimate]; Tragopogon verticillatus Lam. [Illegitimate]; Urospermum grandiflorum St.-Lag. conservation rating - not on IUCN list native to - west and central Mediterranean location - dicotyledon order beds, accession 2010-0428 leaves - neat rosette of wavy-edged leaves with a ruff of hairy leaves half way up the flower stems flowers - black-eyed, soft lemon-yellow habit - perennial to 450mm tall, slowly spreading into clumps, with a single or branched stem habitat - roadsides, dry grasslands or wastelands to 1,200m pests - no information found disease - no information found hardiness - to -20ºC (H6) soil - well-drained sun - full sun propagation - seeds best sown in winter or early spring to benefit from a cold spell in the wet compost to break their dormancy; may still take many months to appear, so never discard pruning - none nomenclature - Asteraceae - aster - star; Urospermum - tailed-seed, the beaked achenes; dalechampii - for James Dalechamp (Jacques d’Alechamps), 1513-88, French physician and botanist, author of Historia generalis planatarum 1587. NB - a very bitter almond taste, rosettes and young shoots are eaten in salads; cooking: rosette or young leaves in salad; harvest: rosettes from September to April.

References, bibliography:

Garrigue Association Gourmande [online] http://garrigue-gourmande.fr/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1121&Itemid=102 [1 Jul 20]

Génial Végétal [online] https://www.genialvegetal.net/-Urosperme-de-Dalechamps- [1 Jul 20]

Gledhill, David, (2008) “The Names of Plants”, fourth edition; Cambridge University Press; ISBN: 978-0-52168-553-5

Hardy Plant Society [online] https://www.hardy-plant.org.uk/about-plants/seed/seed-list/simple-seed-list?id=1846 [1 Jul 20]

IUCN [online] http://www.iucnredlist.org/search [1 Jul 20]

Plant List, The [online] http://www.theplantlist.org/tpl1.1/record/gcc-97599 [1 Jul 20]

Plant World Seeds [online] https://www.plant-world-seeds.com/store/view_seed_item/4461 [1 Jul 20]

Plants of the World [online] http://plantsoftheworldonline.org/taxon/urn:lsid:ipni.org:names:257064-1 [1 Jul 20]

Wikipedia [online] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Urospermum_dalechampii [1 Jul 20]

SARS-CoVid-2 update

#Petrea volubilis #Urospermum dalechampii

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