A View from the Stage

The cast of "A Dangerous Intimacy"

Peter Sabor (Mr. Rushworth), Natasha Duquette (maid), Patrick Stokes (Prince Regent), Karen Doornebos (Julia), Frederick Duquette (Tom), Syrie James (Maria), Diana Birchall (Mrs. Norris), Karen Fuller (Fanny), Edward Scheinman (Henry Crawford), Juliet McMaster (Edmund), Miriam Rheingold-Fuller (Mary Crawford), and Kimberly Brangwin (Lady Bertram).  Picture by Erna Arnesen.

 

After the success of our "Austen Assizes" play in Brooklyn (at the 2012 JASNA AGM) to our delight Syrie James and I were commissioned to write a "behind the scenes" play-within-the-play in Mansfield Park for the Montreal AGM. We knew this would be even trickier to bring off, as Mansfield Park is arguably the least comic, and most structurally complex, of Austen's novels. So we decided to begin with a series of brisk sketches, each a dialogue between two characters, and then move into the rehearsal scenes incorporating dialogue straight from Lovers' Vows. That would link  that play to the Mansfield Park "actors," and reveal what, exactly, they would have been rehearsing. We didn't think the interaction between the two had really been shown before, and it would be enlightening, and funny.

 

Fred, Miriam, Syrie, Edward, Peter, in rehearsal

 



Fred, Syrie and Edward, as Tom, Maria and Henry emoting in "Lovers' Vows"

Of course, the actual writing was mostly done in the last six months when time started to press in! ("We'd better get serious.") Our method was basically to take turns, each writing a scene, the other countering with rewriting and then adding new material, back and forth, with several in-person discussion meetings (fortunately we don't live far apart), until we had what looked like an hour-long play. The polishing we did by sitting together and reading the whole play aloud, in several sessions, to meticulously refine the dialogue and make it funnier. By the time it was done, as usual it was hard to remember who had invented what. We do know that Laurel Ann Nattress suggested the green baize and curtain rod a la the Carol Burnett "Went With the Wind" skit, and Syrie actually sewed the contraption!  For every scene that one of us conceived, the other had improvements, changes and inventions, but remarkably, we nearly always saw eye-to-eye, and when one improved something the other had done, reaction was rapturous! It was a true joint effort, done in workmanlike, waste-no-time fashion, an efficiency which never ceases to surprise me, since I never wrote anything in partnership before. The most fun was the reading aloud and making subtle changes; we would alternate speeches, and both Syrie and I "were" Tom, Henry, Mary, Julia, all the characters, at different times. It gave us a facility and intimacy with all the roles, and a good idea of how the speeches should be delivered.

 

Miriam and Peter at rehearsal

 

Syrie and Ellen

 

From early on, casting was always under discussion. Syrie knew from the start that she wanted to be Maria Bertram, and probably wrote the part with herself in mind; I never could see it, and wanted her to play Mary Crawford, for I think of her as having more of Mary's qualities than Maria's. But I would not interfere, trusting she knew best for herself and would bring it off in the end - which she most emphatically did! For myself, I never had an idea of what part I could play, if any. I have virtually no acting experience (though I've always read my stories aloud), and have no clear idea of myself as any kind of "type." As I have trouble projecting (the one thing Syrie keeps on at me about!), I imagined I might make a "creepmouse" Fanny Price. So I was startled when Syrie, Laurel Ann, and even my own son Paul, declared with one voice that I must be Mrs. Norris - and everyone who heard the suggestion said "Oh YES!" Not very flattering, and I couldn't understand it, until I remembered that I do always seem attracted to the nasty caricatures (like Mrs. Elton and Lady Catherine), and that my age suited me to Mrs. Norris far more than to Fanny. To prove everyone wrong, I tried reading Mrs. Norris's part out loud to myself, and what came out was this alarming carping caw that was undeniably - Mrs. Norris! 



 The incredible costume!

 

The inspiration!

 

That settled, we knew that we'd ask Juliet McMaster and Miriam Rheingold-Fuller to play parts, as they'd been in other plays of ours; if Syrie was Maria, Miriam would be Mary. Juliet plays en travestie amusingly, with a specialty in clergymen, so she would be Edmund. The difficulty was finding not only men, but men reasonably young and handsome, with real acting ability, and who would also be in Montreal for the AGM! We needed several of them, Tom, Henry and Mr. Rushworth. Not easy! Laurel Ann suggested the brilliant young scholar and writer Edward Scheinman for one of the parts, Elaine Bander suggested Natasha Duquette's Shakepearean actor husband Fred for another, and my son Paul would do Rushworth. Fred liked the idea of orating as Tom, Edward would be a perfect Henry - but Paul got a new librarian job and couldn't go to Montreal. The almost last-minute replacement was one of our best pieces of casting. I remembered seeing McGill professor Peter Sabor read in a Fanny Burney play once, I knew he was good, and I thought it would be funny having such a brainy man play a complete dolt!

 

Peter Sabor (far right) making "Rushworth-face" in performance!
Picture by Sarah Emsley

Syrie and I had always agreed that her husband Bill would be Sir Thomas (fortunately he agreed too), and we always wanted stylish Kimberly Brangwin of Seattle to be the perfect languid funny Lady Bertram. Pretty Austenesque author Karen Doornebos would be the petulant Julia, in the cat-fight with Syrie, and Miriam volunteered her lovely twenty year old actress daughter Ellen to be Fanny.

Bill's entrance as Sir Thomas Bertram fresh from Antigua

Natasha was to persuade her and Fred's pug dog Esmee to play herself, with Natasha as the maid to mind her. Unfortunately, two days before we were to fly to Montreal (Syrie was already on a cruise up the St. Lawrence) the hotel belatedly decided that poor Esmee must be caged, muzzled, heaven knows what restraints put on the poor little thing. So, scratch Pug (so to speak), and I had to immediately come up with dialogue to explain her absence, since we didn't want any stuffed Pugs! Natasha remained in the play, doing her Maid with a soft Irish accent, and actually "maiding" me in earnest, helping me into my unwieldy costume, which tended to slip down my back.

 

I think Patrick Stokes, as the Prince Regent, was the last written and cast. Having met him in England, I knew he would bring the house down as the prince, but my emails went wrong, and I was sending him ones that began "Say no, if it is to be said," when he replied with bafflement that he didn't know what I was writing about, he had received nothing! When it was all explained, he jumped in with full alacrity and played the part to the hilt. There was the problem of his costume, since his luggage would already be exceeded with the Admiral's uniform he was bringing for his own presentation; but Bill lent a brocade vest, Patrick brought a very effective white wig, and I found a jeweled crown in the Salvation Army! He looked magnificent.

 

Syrie and Patrick in performance as Maria Bertram and the Prince Regent
Picture by Erna Arnesen
 

As with Austen Assizes, we had two hour-long rehearsals, one the day before and the other the day of the performance. Owing to scheduling and commitments, not everybody could get to both, but everybody did get to at least one.  Syrie using her staging knowledge to efficiently wield microphones and effectively direct the troupers, particularly difficult for her as she had the most ghastly cold acquired on the chill Quebec rivers; she had to save her voice for her part, and it was touch and go as to whether she might not succumb to laryngitis. But she didn't, real trouper she. On the day of the play her voice merely had a sultry huskiness that was just right for her part!

I was quite nervous when the actors assembled for the first rehearsal, not sure if the play would work or be as funny as the Assizes; but in the very first minute, when Fred Duquette stood up and delaimed in his resonant booming flexible voice:

"At Mansfield Park, November comes

There's naught to do but twiddle thumbs..."

I knew everything would be absolutely all right! All the words we had written jumped to vivid new life when spoken by these speakers of talent. Everyone was super good, and when Peter Sabor contorted his face into that of the doltish dunce and spoke in tones that showed complete inside comprehension of Mr. Rushworth, the effect of the whole was fantastic! (A video will eventually be available so everyone can see.)



 



Seen on the screen - Karen, Fred, Syrie as Julia, Tom and Maria

 

Screen set-up. Karen, Syrie, Kimberly

The actors assembled on the stage in the big ballroom at 7:15 for the 8 PM performance, and sat in their row of chairs, all but me, Bill and Patrick, who were going to make "surprise appearances," and mustn't be seen by the audience. We sat in a little tented alcove on the stage, in a litter of crowns, green baize, scripts and curtain rods. As the audience came in, I asked Syrie, who was sitting on the stage (in a "stage whisper" of course), "How's the house?" "Every seat is full," she said with suppressed excitement. Patrick and I amused ourselves counting and lost track at 500.

We began. Elaine gracefully introduced us, Fred as Tom did his Prologue, and people started to laugh as Maria and Julia expressed their booooredom. The laughter didn't stop - everything rolled out with perfect timing. One actor skipped a couple of lines but they were unimportant, and Syrie covered with aplomb. Soon it was time for my entrance, which was anything but an easy one! I had to emerge from the tent, wearing this curtain rod contraption across my shoulders, swathed in green baize, and walked forward slowly to the microphones giving everyone a sight of the costume. Laughter began, and proceeded to build, so I took my time. Then at the microphone I read my lines, remembering to project as young Ellen Fuller had coached me. She must have done it well because I was LOUD, and in Mrs Norris's meanest moments, the audience hissed - a new sensation for me!

 

Syrie was particularly wonderful as a deliciously amoral Maria, and got a lot of laughs, but then, everyone did - each part was played to perfection, with the elan and enthusiasm of people who are having fun, heightened by the audience having fun too! Special bring-the-house down laughter greeted Sir Thomas, straight from Antigua in his Bermuda shorts, talking of Mai Tais; and the Prince Regent, sweeping Maria away to see the Cupids on his ceiling. Lots of applause, call for "Authors!" and then we left the stage for picture-taking, and rapturous happy mutual compliments. Oh, what a night! And for the rest of the conference I had the happiness of being recognized everywhere...as Mrs. Norris!

Now - does anyone have any more pictures of the performance to share with us?  We'd be grateful!

 

Cast photo session
Picture by Erna Arnesen

 

After the play - me, Patrick, Syrie, Bill

"A Dangerous Intimacy" in Montreal

Montreal from my 34th floor window

Wednesday October 8. Coming off a fraught court case (harassment, anxiety, stalker, good lawyer got rid of him/her (a transsexual coffeehouse person. Don't ask). Had to postpone flight a day because of that, and so had no turnaround time to catch my breath before flying to Toronto. Happily was on same flight as Los Angeles friends Carol Medine Moss and Lynda and Ken Hall, and it was great fun catching up with them. We shared a cab to the hotel (Le Centre Montreal Sheraton, where I  had a very comfortable quiet room on a high floor, nice view, super efficient elevators so no tiresome waiting; however hotel food wasn't great and we were at its mercy a little too often). Then we hurried out for dinner, to Reuben's a couple of blocks from the hotel, where we found Nancy Gallagher and other friends. Very good Montreal smoked meat sandwich (tastes like corned beef) on rye with frites and a tangy coleslaw. Shared a really excellent piece of rich chocolate cake. Then to bed though still too flurried and anxious to sleep well.



 

Montreal Bagel #1, at Dunn's

Thursday October 9. Beautiful morning, cool and crisp. Montreal's 58 F highly preferable to L.A.'s 85. Craving Montreal bagel, got directed by the hotel to another nearby deli, Dunn's, for a toasted one with cream cheese, and then set off a-wandering, solo. Headed onward, north and up, past McGill and all the pretty Belle Époque mansions (or whatever they are) into the bosky leafery of Mount Royal. When I was here researching my book, in around 2000, my cousin Elizabeth and I, with Ph.D candidate (now Professor) Jean Lee Cole and her husband, walked up Mount Royal to the cemetery where my great-grandparents Edward and Grace Eaton are buried, along with great-aunt Edith Eaton (Sui Sin Far, 1865-1914), known as the godmother of Asian American fiction. The Chinese community in Montreal erected a monument to her and in Chinese characters it reads "it is right and good we should remember China." It's a wonderful thing to see, but oddly Mount Royal has got steeper in 14 years and I didn't get to the top this time.  I saw a different part of the park instead, and it was lovely - a woodsy autumn walk, the trees turning red and gold.  Never realized the park was designed by Frederick Law Olmstead, who designed Central Park.



Grave of Edith Eaton (Sui Sin Far, 1865 - 1914) in Mount Royal Cemetery

Clockwise from left: Paul, Jean Lee Cole's husband Matt, my cousin Elizabeth, Jean, and me, @2000

 

 

In Mount Royal park

 



Walked back to hotel in time for Juliet McMaster's tea at the Atwater Club. The club was attractive but sadly the event was heavily overcrowded, people standing for ages in long, long lines for the buffet, with disappointing food.  By the time we got our egg sandwiches and half cups of tea we had waited an hour; the event was supposed to be 4 - 6, and we had our rehearsal at 6:30. So Syrie and Bill and I had to leave; she had an elaborate costume to put on plus wanting to be early to set up the rehearsal. There was no possibility of Juliet's talk beginning much less ending on time, so we sadly had to miss it and take a cab back.

Our first rehearsal! Syrie was getting over a bad cold and was in danger of losing her voice, but no fear the trouper wouldn't come through and she directed the proceedings with her usual aplomb. She and Bill, Karen Doornebus, Miriam Rheingold-Fuller and her daughter Ellen Fuller, Edward Scheinman, and Fred and Natasha Duquette were there; absent were Peter Sabor, Juliet McMaster and Patrick Stokes (the latter arrived at the end). Rehearsal went relievedly wonderfully well, and afterwards I had to go to the "Fanny Wars" presentation, as I was asked to introduce Linda Troost and Sayre Greenfield.  It went fine, but when the session was over it was past 10, everyone was exhausted, and we ate indifferent food at the hotel bar.



Linda Troost and Sayre Greenfield

Nora, Steffi and me - having bagels of course

 



Friday October 10. What a day! Too excited to sleep well. Met Nora Nachumi (family friend) and her friend Steffi at 9. Crisp cool but sunny day and we walked briskly to Old Town! The city was really not open yet, but we got to the central square and there was one sort of tourist restaurant with a covered patio and it was perfect for breakfast. We had particularly delicious cappuccinos and Montreal bagels, lox and cream cheese.  And sat and talked a mile a minute, improving friendship with delight, reflecting on life's trajectories, women's choices, and our own vitally interesting life stories. Nora and Steffi are putting together an Austen anthology I'll contribute to, and we talked a lot about that and publishing too. Great time! On the way back we went to the maple shop that was the end of all maple shops and I bought a lot of stuff...maple syrup with Grand Marnier, blocks of hard maple sugar, maple sugar fudge...

Yep, another one...but who's counting

Maple sugar pie

 

Got back at noon just in time for rehearsal, tried on my Carol Burnett curtain rod costume and we assigned microphones and did a run through. A late lunch of bagel and lox and maple sugar pie at the hotel, visiting sequentially with Marcia Folsom McClintock and Mary Margaret Benson; then saw "our" actor Edward Scheinman and his mom, introduced self and made friends with him! After lunch, I went to my first conference session, and what do you know, it was another play, the Mansfield Park characters on a psychiatrists couch, written by Juliet Wells, very smart and amusing, but fortunately  not much like our play, though there was, rather unnervingly, another Mrs. Norris! Then went to next door Italian restaurant with Alice Villesenor, JamesonYu  (who'd been in the play) and Viki Barie, scarfed some cold meats, but was almost late and had to hurry to dress.

Reached the stage at 7:15 and dithered - thought I'd left script in room, ran up, came down and found it under my costume! Put it on with Natasha's help, then sat behind a screen with Bill and Patrick and listened until my turn to appear. Everyone gave it their all, with full weight, skill and accents; pace was great, no problems with microphones or movements. I won't describe the play, as I'll do that (with pictures) in my next post, but it was fantastic!  Afterwards pictures were taken and we had such a good time basking in our success. We repaired to the hotel bar, I had more maple sugar pie, and chatted with Syrie and Patrick and Nora and Sarah Emsley and everyone to heart's content.

At the banquet with "our actresses," Miriam Rheingold-Fuller and Karen Doornebos

 

Bill and Syrie at the banquet

 

Me, Syrie and Juliet at the ball



 

Saturday October 11

Too excited to sleep well and I was to meet Natasha and Fred at 8:30 to go hunt for Montreal bagels. But they were anxious and had to do more work on their presentation (as one does) so we had a lovely breakfast at the hotel - Montreal bagels anyway! Then I went back to SLEEP. Divine.   Got up for Natasha's session, another dramatic one (Mansfield Park seems to inspire drama!), she and Fred did a dialogue, "Fanny Price among the Philosophers," Fred doing all the philosophers, and being especially good as Johnson. Then I went to Jocelyn Harris's talk. I was curious about her, not having heard a talk of hers before. Many people say she's wonderful but I've heard the opposite view too, so I thought I'd see. Well, she's obviously a great researcher or has a great staff, her head is stuffed full of Austen family minutiae, almost on a Deirdre LeFaye level; but she delivered it all so fast that I, who after all am tolerably familiar with the details of Austen's life and history, was totally lost among the welter of Cooks and Cassandras. I would very much like to have heard properly about the research connecting the Austen family to Fanny Burney via the Cooks, but it was absolutely impossible to follow it enough to even take notes. My head was spinning; and then the speaker started delivering fanciful spurious theories and talking as if they were fact, which Deirdre does NOT do. I could see why Arnie is a fan, since fanciful theories do stimulate him, but me - no, no, no! If you once state as fact that Fanny Burney's lowly captivity at Court is what inspired Jane Austen to create the lowly Fanny Price, well then, that is enough to raise distrust.

 

 

After these sessions I was to meet Stephanie Barron the mystery novelist; she had actually flatteringly asked to see me, she reads my blog and therefore knows my cats and me (oh! The goodness of having a blog!). But we had the most confusing kerfuffle, I sat in lobby but she didn't see me, and I left message that I was going to this French place for lunch, but when I got there it was CLOSED though concierge had said it would be open so I went to Dunn's next door and had chopped liver on a Montreal bagel, but Stephanie didn't come; she had lunch in the hotel and didn't think to look for me at Dunn's.

 

Chopped liver on Montreal bagel...yum

Emailed her and said let's meet AT the concierge and she would then come with me to buy Montreal bagels. Took cabs both ways and she paid as I had no more Canadian money; the cab waited and I went to get bagels but it was CASH ONLY so she scuttled round corner to get cash and then I saw they did take American dollars! Well! Back at hotel we went to the bar and she had a drink (surely much needed after an encounter with me!) and I cappuccino; then I got some Canadian dosh in the cash machine, and we agreed to share cab to airport at noon Sunday. We talked and talked and made friends despite the mishaps. :-). My usual theme, Choices in Life, and tried to cheer her as she was away from her kids and hadn't had an exciting Play to thrill her. We talked about publishing and so on and had a jolly time.

Me and Patrick Stokes

 

My gown, made by C. Allyn (Carey) Pierson

 

Me with Mary Guyatt, new Curator of Chawton House

 Arnie Perlstein, Ellen Moody and me
 



Then it was time to dress for the ball. Another kerfuffle was with Carey Bligard who'd offered to help me dress for the play or ball but I didn't get her messages and was never there. Very confusing to find anyone in a 700-person conference! Carey had made my gown, the most gorgeous Royal blue satin, and it did look nicer than I ever thought I could look in a Regenncy gown. So I dressed, and did find Carey, and we promenaded together. At the ball I didn't dance but talked to her and Ellen Moody and Freydis Welland and Sarah Emsley) and more, also watched a little of Kim Wilson's and Victoria Hinshaw' presentation, but was so tired I hobbled in my fancy heels, along to bed.



The dancing

Gail and Karen

 

 

Karen Doornebos, C. Allyn (Carey) Bligard, and me,

three members of the "Austen Variations" writers' blog

 

 





Sunday October 12. Got some sleep, checked out, stashed luggage downstairs, went to brunch banquet, sat with Kerri Spinnachia and Karen Doornebos, and listened to Patrick Stokes's superb lecture. He wore the same uniform of Admiral of the Red as his ancestor Charles Austen, and was extremely informative yet lively about the Navy in Austen's day, with some very funny jokes. Then I had to leave and joined Stephanie, and we shared the cab to the airport, happily chatting.  I was bound for Toronto!

 



An English Summer: The Fitzwilliam and Farewell!



16th century Chinese dog at the Fitzwilliam

The last, and possibly arguably the best, day of the trip. Slept well, and awoke to a softly glowingly sunny but cool (60s) English day of late summer, trees in very full green leaf with sunshine gleaming through the leaves trembling in winds. In a word, glorious. Derek baked a new bread and I had some with him and Jan, with tea. Then Jan and I walked into town, had a cappuccino and a peek into Heffers, after which we parted, she to do errands while I amused myself.

Sign seen in Cambridge

 First I walked through the cheerful Cambridge open market and enjoyed myself looking at the booths of old books and jewelry and cheeses, in full display. Then I had a meal at the attractive and convenient Michaelhouse cafe, in St. Michael's Church, where everything is fresh and good (delicious cheese scones, scrambled eggs, sausages and mushrooms), after which I visited an old favorite bookstore, the Haunted Bookshop, that wonderful stuffed little secondhand shop with the rickety stairs and an Aladdin's cave full of books, especially rich in children's literature. Most of what I bought was English middlebrow novels, D.E. Stevensons and the like.

Fitzwilliam Museum



From there I continued down the King's road to the Fitzwilliam Museum, which I had not visited in years, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. So many wonderful antiquities, beauties, and quirky things. Peter and I first visited the Fitzwilliam maybe 25 years ago, and that is where I remember falling in love with the first majolica I'd ever seen.  And the cases are so beautifully and colorfully arranged they still take my breath away.



 

 

 

 

16th century majolica, in the same case as ever...

 







The museum is so refreshingly wondrously unchanged, the same exact cases and objects are just as I first saw them years ago, when with new eyes they made such an impression on me.  How much more porcelain I have seen since then! Of course they do have temporary exhibitions and things have been moved around; but you don't feel it. There is something to be said for a museum changing as little as possible; the pleasure of seeing treasures you remember from a quarter century ago being quietly preserved and cherished, gives you a long perspective on history and preservation. The Fitzwilliam is also the perfect size, with its marvelous collection, yet you can see most of it in a few hours. I can't think of another museum that has more objects that make me smile. Here are some of the ones that did...



17th century Japanese elephant. "Live elephants did not exist in Japan, and their representation in ceramic form was therefore inaccurate."

"Nobody"



Voltaire

Saturn, about to eat his baby. I really must look up why...

  

This next group of pictures only made me smile in the sense that I was amused to realize that I now take special notice of paintings of old women. Perhaps this is because (as Jane Austen said) "now that I must leave off being young," I'm going to be an old woman myself, so it's interesting to see how they are portrayed! (Er - not kindly.)



Michiel Sweerts, An Old Woman Spinning (1646)



 



Cleopatra isn't old, but this is her asp moment

 

A few more things that appealed to me...I really think I ought to retire and spend the rest of my life just going to museums...

 





 Bust of an unknown man by Joseph Wilson (18th c.) His tortured expression spoke to me, and seems so modern.


A nice big red Breughel (1627), of an exuberant village festival.
 

Farewell to England...and to the Fitzwilliam.  For this time.



After enjoying myself to my heart's content, I rested in the quiet garden. It was quite empty, I had it to myself, but there was a tea window, and I had, what else, tea and Victoria sponge.

A quiet moment in the garden

It was probably a mile walk home, and my legs got pretty tired (especially when carrying book bags!), but instead of walking back through the town, I turned into the meadow of Lammas and wandered along the river, past fields of cows, then along the Backs, seeing the colleges across the meadows, and getting back to Marshall House at nearly four.

Pictures of Lammas Meadow and the Backs

  

 

  



Cows in the meadow


King's College from the Backs.  Hard to take a bad picture of it, really.


Back gate and the gentleman who admits you
 



Rested, and then we walked to Clara's for dinner. It was lovely seeing her and Colin, and Jan and Derek with the two blond bright little grandsons, George and Alex, three this week and ten months respectively. How beautiful they were! Little Alex actually sat on my lap and both boys smiled and kissed me when we left, what sweet manners! Clara made one of her amazing dinners, grilled tomatoes and peppers with red onions, garlic and basil, tons of olive oil and balsamic, on cheese toast, and her fish and cheese sauce dish...

  

 For dessert, get this, she mixed clotted cream ice cream with the most divine fresh English raspberries: unbelievably good! It didn't last long enough to take a picture. Then we walked back, pondering on the Pleiades, which were most resolutely obscured by the remains of the Supermoon...



Jan with her beautiful grandsons

 

Not to omit grandcat Penny

 



Next morning I set out on the train from Cambridge to London, tube from King's Cross to Heathrow, did some shopping at the airport, then the interminable eleven hour flight home...though at least I did have a window seat this time. It was eighteen hours from Cambridge to home, all told, and the "tax" for all my pleasure, as Jane Austen would say, was a week's worth of jet lag, something she did not know about.  How I shall miss my enchanted England, but I will always be visiting it in imagination.

The pond at Lucy Cavendish, my last morning

 

Farewell to Marshall House

 

Books I bought on the trip: and by no means a complete list, either!

Letters of Henry James to Isabella Stewart Gardner
John Bradsaw - Cat Sense
Susan Scarlett - The Man in the Dark
Gladys Mitchell - On Your Marks
Josephine Elder - The Encircled Heart
Jill Paton Walsh - The Attenbury Emeralds
Christopher Maxwell - French Porcelain of the 18th century
D.E. Stevenson - Miss Buncle Married; Celia's House; Gerald and Elizabeth; Charlotte Fairlie; The Blue Sapphire; The House on the Cliff; The Young Clementina

And yes, they all went in my suitcase, along with various notecards from various museums, a hand crocheted afghan from a Cambridge charity shop, a framed drawing of an old Devon leper house for Paul, a book of Cambridge poets for Peter, lovely semiprecious beads from the Cambridge market for neighbor Pam, a tiny beaded Spanish owl, a scarf...and chocs, smoked salmon and Stilton cheese from the London airport shop!

Penny's precursor cat (1740s)