"Selections From Sense and Sensibility"

About to go to sleep, just finishing up some chamomile & green tea with honey & lemon, so I decided to share a glimpse of today :-)



Got some music the other day, after watching Sense & Sensibility too many times to count.... here it is, the two songs that Marianne sings. I shall try singing Weep You No More Sad Fountains and see if Colonel Brandon comes in and falls in love with me, too... ;)
Haha, just kidding. But it's so romantic. And I love hearing Mom play the piano. And, I promised I would practice voice this summer, and these two songs (the other is The Dreame; both are set by Patrick Doyle) will be my projects.

And More Dan

"But perhaps the greatest surprise of all was when Hilda turned to see her engineer, whom, it will be remembered, she had seen but once at close range (except a distant fleeting view of his head and shoulders in the cab of his engine) and whom she remembered always in blue jean overalls.
"He was dressed now in the full uniform of an officer of the United States Army; and fine and handsome did he look as he stood ready to salute her, pausing to admire his little friend, whom he had not known was so beautiful until his mother had put on the finishing touches of suitable garments."

Meet Dan Stevens

I have just read three Grace Livingston Hill books that Mom bought me :-) Little old paperbacks with yellow pages that smell like an old book, and romantic covers.
The last one I read, The Red Signal, has my current favorite hero, but they were all three quite wonderful so it's probably because I finished it last. Dan Stevens is a freight train engineer, introduced when he saves the main character, Hilda Lessing, from being run over by a train- two expresses ran through the station as she was crossing to a farther train, and Dan ran out and held her safe between the two scary trains :-) I'll have to introduce him in snatches:

Dan introduced...

"...She only saw his face bending solicitously over her, his pleasant eyes so brown and merry, and heard his cheery voice: 'Say, Kid, that was a close call!' ... The young man looked at his watch. He had nice hair and a handsome head. She liked the way the dark curl fell over his white forehead, and the strength of the bronzed neck above the jumper. "You've plenty of time. Number Ten isn't due for fifteen minutes. Come over to the restaurant and have a cup of coffee. That'll put some pep into you." He seized the suitcase and led the way. She noticed that he did everything as if her were a gentleman. She liked the way he pulled out the chair for her and seated her at the table."

Thinking of Dan...

"Meantime, it was pleasant to think of that handsome young man and the courteous way in which he had treated her. He reminded her of a picture she had once seen of a prince. True, he was not dressed in princely robes, but she was American enough to recognize a prince in spite of his attire."

The last is delicious, and instead of making this post way too long, I'm going to give it its own post...

Fictional Favorites

I've decided I'm going to have to start a weekly post of a favorite fictional character- introduction descriptions, and paragraphs that illuminate their personality and show why I love them so much. I just have so many fictional favorites. :-) So, today I begin with Stephen Lawhead's Robin Hood. This Robin Hood legend is set in Wales at the time of the Norman conquest, and Robin Hood is a Welsh lord in exile- he had been a prince until his father was killed, but he never got a chance to be king in his own right because a Norman lord took over his "cantref," his little kingdom. His name is Bran, the Welsh for king is "Rhi", and the Welsh "Hud" means enchanter or magician, which Bran is called by superstitious locals because of his habit of showing up and scaring away callous Normans in a eery Raven cloak and hood with his bow. So, here he is:

"Presently, Siarles returned from the house accompanied by a young man, tall and slender as a rod, but with a fair span of shoulders and good strong arms. He wore a simple tunic of dark cloth, trousers of the same stuff, and long black riding boots. His hair was so black the sun glinted blue in his wayward locks. A cruel scar puckered the skin on the left side of his face, lifting his lip in what first appeared to be a haughty sneer- an impression only, belied by the ready wit that glinted from eyes as black as the bottom of a well on a moonless night. There was no doubt he was their leader, Bran."