Wednesday 10 June 2009

How to get into my new blog

Ok so now it seems that the only way to invite people to read a private blog is to get their usernames so if you want an invite now, send me your wordpress username. Unfortunately this doesn't help non-wordpress users so I'm really sorry but if you want to read it all you have to do is set up a wordpress account which is really really easy!

So write your username in a comment and I'll add you and then you should have access.

I am so not good with this technical computer stuff! Blog switching is really hard work!

Tuesday 9 June 2009

Explanation

If you're a regular visitor to this blog then you may have noticed that it was recently deleted. Some friends discovered my blog and it has since become necessary to remove my blog from public viewings and so it is now invite only over at wordpress. This blog has only been reinstated now so that I can post that explanation. If you want an invite to the blog then leave me a comment here with your email address and I can attempt to invite you! Currently I seem to have invited everyone to start a wordpress blog rather than inviting them to my blog so sorry!

Wednesday 3 June 2009

And things go on

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.  We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further out-door exercise was now out of the question.  I was glad of it: I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.  The said Eliza, John, and Georgiana were now clustered round their mama in the drawing-room: she lay reclined on a sofa by the fireside, and with her darlings about her (for the time neither quarrelling nor crying) looked perfectly happy.  Me, she had dispensed from joining the group; saying, "She regretted to be under the necessity of keeping me at a distance; but that until she heard from Bessie, and could discover by her own observation, that I was endeavouring in good earnest to acquire a more sociable and childlike disposition, a more attractive and sprightly manner--something lighter, franker, more natural, as it were--she really must exclude me from privileges intended only for contented, happy, little children."

Monday 1 June 2009

Today

"What does Bessie say I have done?" I asked.  "Jane, I don't like cavillers or questioners; besides, there is something truly forbidding in a child taking up her elders in that manner.  Be seated somewhere; and until you can speak pleasantly, remain silent."  A breakfast-room adjoined the drawing-room, I slipped in there.  It contained a bookcase: I soon possessed myself of a volume, taking care that it should be one stored with pictures.  I mounted into the window- seat: gathering up my feet, I sat cross-legged, like a Turk; and, having drawn the red moreen curtain nearly close, I was shrined in double retirement.  Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day.  At intervals, while turning over the leaves of my book, I studied the aspect of that winter afternoon.  Afar, it offered a pale blank of mist and cloud; near a scene of wet lawn and storm-beat shrub, with ceaseless rain sweeping away wildly before a long and lamentable blast.  I returned to my book--Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank.  They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape--