Read Aloud: “The Scarlet Pimpernel” by Baroness Emma Orczy

The Scarlet Pimpernel by Emmuska Orczy
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A couple of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes have to do with his thoughts on children's literature:

"No book is really worth reading at age of ten which is not equally (and often far more) worth reading at the age of fifty", and

"...a children's story which is only enjoyed by children is a bad children's story."

I knew when I first read this book a few months ago that our girls would love it, and they did. In fact, they enjoyed this book so much that they had me read it aloud late into the night each time we got a chance to read it (which was definitely sporadic). We worked on it over the course of several weeks. We finally finished it last night at about 12:30 am - the last 3 chapters in about an hour and a half. An interesting aspect of this story is that, from the beginning, the two main characters are a married couple, although certainly not a happily-married couple ... at first. Orczy took great pains to make sure the reader saw how Marguerite's feelings toward her husband could undergo such a complete transformation in such a short period of time.

The girls wanted very much for this to have been a true story. Different ones at different times asked, "Was there really a Scarlet Pimpernel?" I told them that as far as I know, there was not, but there could have been Englishmen who did similar things during the French Revolution.

Now we're looking forward to seeing some screen adaptations of this, and we have several friends who recommend the Jane Seymour version done in the early '80s. I can easily picture her as Marguerite Blakeney. I think Sir Percy would be more difficult to cast.

As an aside, I love how good children's books challenge kids with rich, descriptive vocabulary. Even the older girls learned some new words in this one: "imperturbably" and "anathema" come to mind. I only wish I knew French so I could pronounce all the words properly. A friend from church helped us with some of the basics of French pronunciation. I'm sure when we watch the screen adaptations, my shortcomings in this area will be obvious. :-)

(No pictures of this book being read, since I was the one reading it! :-)

A Frightful Day – Part 1

October 31st is a notable day for many – Reformation Day and Halloween. After this year, October 31st with be one of those days that my family remembers with clarity what each of us was doing when we got The Call.

It was during lunchtime when I got The Call - Heather telling me she’d just heard from Dad. He and Mom were on the Southside when they were T-boned by a truck. He had called 911. The ambulance was there and they were taking Mom to the hospital – St. Francis South because that’s what she requested. She had just been there 2 hours ago for a routine appointment. Heather could hear Mom moaning in the background. That’s all she knew.  We talked briefly about whether or not we should go down.  She was halfway through her biggest order of the year for a function at their church for over 500 people. The order needed to be ready by the next evening. We were halfway through a regular school day, having just stopped for lunch. But the hospital was probably an hour drive for me. We decided that, for now, we’d just spread the news. I called Kelly and told her. We talked about whether to head down. I think we both felt guardedly optimistic. Optimistic might be too strong of a word. Hopeful? Dad was obviously OK, since he made the call to 911 and Heather. Mom was at least conscious and requesting a hospital. I think at that point, I knew I’d be making a trip down, but should we finish school first? It’s strange now to think that those were the thoughts I was having at that time. Processing news like this comes in degrees.

Several minutes went by. 5? 10? The phone rang again. Worse news. They had decided to take Mom to Methodist; she was having trouble breathing. Dad was very upset. Heather’s voice was breaking. We hung up and I grabbed my purse and lunch and headed for the door. Before I made it to the door, Kelly called to see if I’d heard anything. I gave her the bare details and told her I was on my way to pick her up.

On the way to Kelly’s, I called Mick and told him. He couldn’t believe it. Then he told me to try not to drive too fast. I was glad he said that, because I had to think about that several times to keep from driving dangerously just to get there more quickly.

It was difficult to keep my mind from racing. Methodist is a trauma hospital and a farther drive than St. Francis. Had they made it to St. Francis and the doctors decided they couldn’t do anything? Did the EMTs make the decision en route? Were there internal injuries that made this a more critical situation than we had thought? The drive to the Orrs is just about 20 minutes. The drive to the hospital from their house – maybe 45 minutes. Plenty of time to think … and worry … and pray. Kelly and I had an unusually quiet drive – she talked to our pastor and sent some text messages. We talked to Minda, who was feeling helpless out in Virginia. We tried to speculate about Mom’s injuries – it was so hard to wait for news about how she was doing. I almost called Heather back, but knew she would’ve called if there was new information. The strangest thing during all this was that song “Make ‘Em Laugh” was running through my head. We had been watching clips from “Singin’ in the Rain” when Heather called.

We had no idea what we’d find when we got to the hospital. Dad standing out in the hall with a chaplain’s arm around his shoulders? Mom intubated and unconscious or worse? I was trying to “take every thought captive”, but not doing a very good job of it. At a time like that, it is especially comforting to know that the Spirit cries out to God for us, and also that He knows our every need.

When we got to the hospital, there were a couple of moments that we would’ve been laughing at under different circumstances. We pulled into the ER parking lot, only to be met with a sign stating we needed to park in the garage. Since we were in our very tall van, I knew a parking garage was probably out of the question – and besides, we had no idea where the parking garage was. We spotted a public lot across the street.  $6, but who cares during a time like that?! Wonder how much money that lot makes from people in the same boat we were in. <grrrrr> So, were standing out in the cold, trying to pay the machine so we can get in the hospital and find out how our Mom is doing. Kelly swiped her card and we waited.  Nothing.  She swiped it again … and again … and again.  Nothing. No error messages or anything. We read the directions on the meter. She swiped it again … and again, etc. Finally, I dug out my card and it worked.

Once inside, we were able to get a quick escort to where Mom was in ER. When we were finally about 10 feet from her curtained-off area, we had to stop and wait for a nurse to move a patient on a gurney. Probably took maybe half a minute, but it seemed like an eternity! When we finally stepped in to her area, I was immediately relieved at the scene: Mom laying quietly in bed with a collar on. Dad sitting quietly beside her holding her hand. A nurse standing at a computer taking down her information.  She immediately apologized.  “For getting hit by a truck?” I said. She talked about the accident very breathlessly and complained about how uncomfortable the collar was. We talked about the what-ifs and how it could have been worse and she talked about not being “anxious about anything.” (Phil 4:6) Glenn got there and she apologized to him.  He said, “I forgive you…this time.” :-)  An associate pastor and good friend from their church showed up and prayed.

They took Mom out for a CT scan and we headed out to the waiting room. Jennifer and Steve got there. Then Heather and later Ron. Also, an elder from church and lastly Patty – more a sister to Mom than a cousin. More phone calls were made with updates and we waited. Finally, the pastor used his clergy credentials to go back and find out what was going on. The news was that Mom had a broken rib and a partially collapsed lung. It was possible she could be released that day. Relieved, we went back to see her as soon as we could. While we were in her “room” an ER doctor came in with some disappointing news. It seems there was a pocket of air outside her lungs in her chest cavity. Most likely, one of the ribs punctured the lung when it broke. The air sometimes dissipates, but sometimes can grow larger, which is not good. He “didn’t want to have to do it,” but they would need to insert a chest tube to drain the air. It would probably need to stay in for a couple of days, so Mom would need to stay there.

To be continued…

Trent – Summer 2012

“The Mandie Collection, Vol. 3”, by Lois Gladys Leppard

 

How should a gray, rainy, blustery Friday be started?  I think Erica has the right idea …

The Red Maple

 

Every year, during the second and third weeks of October, I ask myself the same question “How can I get a really good picture of this Red Maple?” This Red Maple, is without a doubt, the most beautiful tree in our yard.  It really is pretty at any point during the year.  But in late Fall, it’s a stunner. 

But I just can’t seem to capture it in a picture!  I can look at it, take a picture and look at the preview of the picture and right away, think “No, that’s not it.” This year, I actually did some searching online and found several articles on how to photograph leaves.  One article talked about how Fall leaves can look good in any weather – not just on sunny days.  On the day I read these articles, it just so happened to be a dreary, rainy day, so I thought I’d try out that theory. I played around with some of the camera’s settings the articles suggested and actually felt like I came closer to capturing the beauty of this tree.

It still looks better in person.  And the display is so fleeting.  Since I took these pictures earlier in the week, the tree has lost about half of the leaves.  I wonder if I would appreciate the color as much if the red leaves were there for a longer period of time? 

The Ball

I know my last post mentioned the subject of balls, but this one is about an actual dance – the Scottish Ball – hosted by our church.

There were so many details that made for a lovely and memorable evening.

Beautiful dresses.

(thank you, Goodwill!)

This is the 5th year of the ball, and each year, we have managed to find a nice selection of dresses at Goodwill.  The bonus this year was that the Saturday we went dress shopping just so happened to be half off everything in the store day.  Yes!  Rachel wore the same dress that she did last year, but Courtney & Erica’s dresses were new, plus we got one extra one that we couldn’t pass up. At $6 per dress, who could?!

Well-fitting, beautiful dresses.

(Thank you, “Express alterations”.)

So, when you find lovely dresses at a steal less than a week before the Ball, you go ahead and buy them … even if they need to be altered (a few sizes down in Erica’s case). Unfortunately, altering gowns is not included in my top three talents. After looking up tutorials online, making initial attempts at altering them (didn’t get any farther than pinning), and talking with a couple of friends who are more knowledgeable about such things, I ended up biting the bullet and taking Courtney & Erica’s dresses to a professional seamstress for alterations. That was an adventure in itself!  The only alteration shop in Lebanon was closed until November. This shouldn’t be too hard, I reasoned, if there is a seamstress in our tiny town, there must be plenty to choose from nearby. The good news:  I found plenty nearby. The bad news:

• one seamstress had temporarily left her shop when we stopped by, with no obvious signs of returning before we needed to head back to pick up Rachel from her piano lesson;
• we never found the shop that we heard was supposed to be near the one with the missing seamstress;
• another would take several weeks to send the dresses out to the seamstress and have the work done;
• one seamstress literally hung up on me when I told her when I needed the dresses to be ready.

So, by 2 days before the Ball, I’d just about resigned myself to doing the alterations myself. I ended up finding another shop and decided to take the dresses in just to ask for advice on how to do the work myself. The sweet lady not only said she could do it, but that she could have the work done by the next day. So, that led to some last minute trips to and from the shop for a fitting, but it was all worth it, as the dresses fit perfectly!

 

Fancy Hair.

(Thank you to my co-stylist, Rachel!  actually, I was probably her co-stylist.  ;-)

Last year, we did a twisting technique to create very curly curls (but needed at least 6 hours of setting time) and I bought baby pink carnations, which were very pretty, but difficult to attach to the girls’ hair.  This year, we heated up 2 different sizes of curling irons, Rachel tried out some unique twisting, and I bought Baby’s Breath – much easier to pin into hair! We were very happy with the results.

Fancy Food.

If it were nothing more than lovely people, dressed up, dancing to live music, the evening would still be wonderful.  But the “icing on the cake” is the fun, fancy food that everyone brings. It is a little challenging to come up with food that is fancy but not messy (chocolate is out!), but I’m always pleasantly surprised at the variety of delicious, fancy foods brought to the Ball. I wish I would have taken pictures of each table.  There were several and each one was as lovely and full as this one! It’s the little things can make an event feel very special.

The boys.

Who says it’s only fun to dress up girls?  Thanks to Once Upon a Child, we were able to find suits for Grant and Trent and boy-oh-boy, did they look handsome.  ;-)

 

 

Mi esposo.

Let’s face it: if Mick hadn’t been there, I would’ve only been able to take about 5 pictures.  :-)  I told him early on that my main goal was to be able to take as many pictures as I could. He helped me achieve that goal by taking Trent (aka my perma-attachment) off my hands on several different occasions.  At times, it was tricky to take pictures and stay out of his line of view.  In fact, in these pictures, he had just spotted me across the room.  :-)

 

Good friends.

Toward the end of the evening, I was talking to the musicians.  One of the violinists was smiling while watching all the kids dancing and said “I haven’t seen kids have this much fun since I was a kid!”

We’re so thankful for this opportunity each year to spend time with these families on such a special night.

Life with boys

 

After 12 years of parenting only girls, I often tell people I feel like a first-time parent with our little boys.  It seems like every day, I notice things they do and say which are unique to our boy-parenting experience. Sometimes, I feel like a scientist: watching, observing, taking mental notes.  I can’t think of how many times I’ve watched in amazement/amusement/horror and thought “none of the girls did that.” Take balls, for instance. We have had several balls through the years which the girls played with periodically. But I’d bet the boys have played with them more in the past couple of years than the girls played with them, combined. 

Just a couple of quick observations about boys and their ball play:  1) they should never be allowed around food and drink – the balls will become air born at some point, even after several pleasant reminders (read: warnings) to keep them on the floor; and (2) instead of just passing the ball back and forth (which is how the girls played with them), they can be played with in an infinite number of ways.  All you need is the right kitchen utensil.  Usually a wooden spoon is the instrument of choice, but anything will work really.  Today it was a cheese slicer and a meat thermometer. 

Parents who start out with boys (or have one after the first or second girl), may not be as entertained by these observations, but they are really amazing and hilarious to us.  :-)