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Monthly Archives: May 2006

Yes, I’m at it again with the birds. It’s one of my many favorite nature subjects and—for me—a Mother’s Day thing. Our local nature center, the Waterman Center, often has a birds of prey demonstration on or near Mother’s Day.

Yesterday, we went to see a show presented by Jonathan Wood of the Raptor Project. Wood rehabilitates injured raptors and has a traveling show featuring an amazing collection of eagles, hawks, falcons and owls.

Some of the birds are in his “employment of the handicapped” program, having permanent injuries that prevent their release into the wild. But even with injuries, they can generate quite a bit of excitement during his shows. Yesterday, we were buzzed by a golden eagle (pictured above with Wood), a peregrine falcon and a snowy owl, among others. We also got to ooh and ah over a gawky/cute three-week-old falcon chick.

Here are some of the breeds Wood has shown that might appear in a European-set historical romance.

The Eurasian Eagle Owl is the largest owl in the world. Having seen it, I can believe the rumors that it can carry off small house pets. Check out the amazing orange eyes!



The Peregrine falcon has been used in falconry for many centuries, and is the fastest bird on record, capable of almost 70 mph in horizontal flight and a stunning 200+ mph in a dive. This picture is by Cal Sandfort at the Peregrine Fund.

One bird that I didn’t see yesterday, but Wood has brought in the past, is the arctic gyrfalcon. When I saw it, I almost squealed in delight, for this bird, the largest true falcon, is the mascot animal in Laura Kinsale’s FOR MY LADY’S HEART. Gyrfalcons continue to be rare and valuable; according to Wood, they have sold for up to six figures!

Someday I want to learn more about the sport of falconry. Although not the most popular sport during the Regency, it was practiced, and it would be fun to include one of these beautiful birds in a story. FOR MY LADY’S HEART (set in the 14th century) is the only romance in which I can remember reading about falconry. There are probably more than that. Does anyone know of others?

In any case, be sure to check out a Raptor Project show if it ever comes your way. And happy Mother’s Day!

Elena, who does write mostly about human characters, honestly! 🙂
www.elenagreene.com
LADY DEARING’S MASQUERADE, RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee


This Sunday, America celebrates Mother’s Day, a day I, as a mother, fully intend to take ruthless advantage of (even going so far as to end a sentence with a prepositional phrase with impunity!).

But this post is not about me. For once. This post is about the person who assumed the maternal role in my life, namely Jeff McLaughlin, my father.

See, my parents split up when I was 12 years old. At the time–for various reasons, some functional, some that have caused years of therapy–I lived with my father, while my mother went and got an apartment across town.

My dad was a newspaper journalist, and a darn good one, too (he’s got a Pulitzer Prize medal that the Boston Globe won in 1972, I think, for covering school busing. He was the metro editor at the time). He worked hard, and had long hours, but he was there when I absolutely needed him.

It’s from him I get my love of words, my dry, sarcastic wit, my intolerance (sorry, Dad) for all sorts of people–suffering fools gladly is NOT a McLaughlin trait–and most especially, my love of books.

It might’ve been from my father’s collection that I first found Pride And Prejudice; my mother, while also a reader, is not so literarily inclined as my father. And P&P is my favorite Austen (Emma is his, a point on which we disagree), probably because its patriarch reminds me so much of my own. To wit (with huge gratitude to Pemberley’s hypertext of P&P):

Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character.

Exactly! To quote Gilbert & Sullivan‘s Patience (which my dad and I do frequently), “That describes me to a T. Thank you all very much.”

When Elizabeth goes on a visit, she says, “The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going that he told her to write to him, and almost promised to answer her letter.” When I went to college, at least we had the telephone. And thank goodness for email!

My dad definitely would’ve pulled the ‘unhappy alternative’ reply Elizabeth got when her mother insisted upon her marrying Mr. Collins (not to suggest my Spouse is anything like Mr. Collins; Dad is just happy I found someone as smart and intolerant as Dear Old Dad):

An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. — Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”
Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such a beginning; but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that her husband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessively disappointed.
“What do you mean, by talking in this way? You promised me to insist upon her marrying him.”
“My dear,” replied her husband, “I have two small favours to request. First, that you will allow me the free use of my understanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of my room. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon as may be.”

That’s my dad, down to the wanting to be alone in his library. Dad lives on Cape Cod now, just him and his 30,000+ collection of books. He’s enthusiastically assumed the position of my research partner, and I’ve asked him lately to delve into Regency-era banking (math is not his strong suit, but he hasn’t complained at all), Byron, and whether one would use a hyphen or not in the word ‘chitchat.’ When I was writing A Singular Lady, he read each and every one of my drafts, and did, in fact, catch the title mistake that made it in print (did I listen? No! The prerogative of the child, I guess).

So thanks, Dad, and Happy Mother’s Day!

Love,

Megala
www.meganframpton.com

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I blogged a few months ago about servants and mentioned then Erddig in North Wales, one of the most-visited National Trust properties. The Yorke family, the Squires of Erddig, while not overpaying their staff were certainly fond enough of them to commission portraits or photographs of them, and write (mediocre) poetry about them.
What makes Erddig (pronounced Er-thick–it’s Welsh) unique is that all of the outbuildings, dairies, laundries, stables, dogyards etc., are intact and restored. You can see before and after photographs showing what an enormous, and daunting task this was for the National Trust, as mostof the buildings, including the house itself, were derelict. In his final months in the house the last squire camped out in the drawing room by candlelight, with bowls set out to catch the drips from the leaking roof.


The gardens and grounds are gorgeous–tulips, primroses and bluebells were in bloom, and there’s a lovely (and rare) eighteenth century walled garden. Rare historic varieties of fruit trees, espaliered against the brick walls, were also flowering.


As for the house, it’s crammed full of amazing furniture and artwork, but all very dark and oppressive. The Yorkes, a rather eccentric family, didn’t believe in throwing anything away, or unnecessary plumbing or electricity. One of the nicest rooms is the late eighteenth-century kitchen, well-lit, by tall, elegant windows, and with its original tiled floor–not much changed other than by the addition of two Victorian ranges. It was frustrating to see features of the house–like particular pieces of art–and not be able to see the details you know from photographs.

Final word: definitely worth a visit. You could spend hours exploring the gardens and grounds, and the restaurant does great food (excellent cakes and a good cup of tea). But buy a guidebook so you can really see what things should look like!

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I had to have some minor surgery last week, which has it’s low points, but also has the plus-side that people in my family feel sorry for me and thus buy me books. I’ve been on a non-fiction binge lately, and just finished Mad Mary Lamb: Lunacy and Murder in Literary London by Susan Tyler Hitchcock. (Mary Lamb was the sister of poet Charles Lamb, who eventually went on to do some writing, mostly tales from Shakespeare for children, of her own. Her other claim to fame was she murdered her mother in a psychotic fit, and was in and out of hospitals for the rest of her life). This was a very interesting book, encompassing many aspects of Regency life, including the habits of the non-Ton classes, poetry and literary sorts (the Lambs were friends with Wordsworth and Coleridge), and medical care for the mentally ill.

There were two large mental hospitals in London at this time, at least sixteen private madhouses (where the wealthy could be discreetly stashed away), and numerous smaller, unlicensed places. One of the large hospitals was the famous Bethlehem (Bedlam). A family member could put forth a petition to the governor of the hospital certifying that the candidate was indeed a lunatic. Other info required was the age of the patient, how long their senses had been “disordered”, the first instance of such disorder, whether or not “mischief” had been attempted, and the general state of their physical health. The subcomittee met every Saturday at eleven to consider that week’s petitioners.

The building itself was built in 1676, designed by Robert Hooke (who sometimes worked with Wren) on a grand scale. It was 550 feet end to end, located just outside London’s city wall, facing Moorfields (a public green). The entry was flanked by massive statues of Melancholy and Mania. Wings were added in the 1730s for male and female quarters. By 1796, though, it was falling into disrepair, with its foundations sinking.

Another hospital was St. Luke’s, founded in 1751 on the north edge of Moorfields, facing Bethlehem. Its founding physician was William Battie, who believed the treatment of the insane should be guided by knowledge and study (not just tying them up and leaving them to their own devices). He wrote “Treatise on Madness” in 1758, defining madness as “the too lively or too languid perception of things” (I suffer from the second, I think). Battie said that treatment should begin with “the patient’s being removed from all objects that act forcibly upon the nerves.” He was against bleeding, blistering, purges, vomiting, and opium.

James Munro was the Bedlam physician from 1728-52 (and was then succeeded by his son and grandson). In his “Remarks on Dr. Battie’s Treatise” he argued FOR evacuation, vomiting, bleeding, blistering–“why should we endeavor to give the world a shocking opinion of a remedy, that is not only safe but greatly useful?”

Some private hospitals included Whitmore House, “the madhouse for aristocrats,” which cost 1500 pounds a year. Hoxton House, which was one of the largest (486 patients in 1815), and seemed to be a sort of dumping ground for the Admiralty to send their officers and sailors who were “mad.” There was Fisher House in Islington (where Mary Lamb was first sent). It was quiet, in country surroundings, run by a mother and daughter who were more housekeepers than nurses. (Government licensing only required an annual visit by the attending physician, so staff only had to watch over the residentsand rein in their behavior. If the patient needed a doctor or apothecary, the family arranged for it).

This is just a small taste of the information in this book, which I recommend for a different slant on the Regency period (and a does of gratitude for not being in a Regency madhouse!!!).

p.s. Blogger won’t let me post pics today, so just enjoy the wealth of images Cara gave us yesterday. 🙂

Blogger has finally bowed to my will, and allowed me to upload my pictures. So here are the pics of what I hope to see! The half-timbered houses here are in Lavenham, Suffolk, which is reputed to be the prettiest village in England. (When you can see it around the tourists, that is.)

The bridge here is in Bury St. Edmunds, in Norfolk. I’ve never been to Bury St. Edmunds, so I have no idea what I’ll find — but it’s supposed to be quite beautiful.

This, of course, is Bath! I love Bath. Bath buns, the Assembly Rooms, the Pump Room…I love just walking around. I’ll even walk up to the fashionable residence areas of Jane Austen’s time — Cavendish Crescent, Lansdowne Crescent, Camden Place — though it’s a fair walk uphill!

Here we have the fantastically beautiful Norwich Cathedral — it’s a Norman cathedral, with massive round pillars. Very impressive — and much less touristy than Salisbury or Canterbury or Ely or the like. When I was a student I would visit the cathedral almost every weekend, and then eat sausage rolls for 30p in the little cafe that was attached.

And this is Elm Hill, a medieval street in Norwich. (Gorgeous, but painful to walk on in thin shoes!)

Well, those are my pics! When I come back, I’ll have pics of my own to share!

Cara

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