Word Wenches

The WordWenches Have Moved

Hi everyone, Anne here, and this is the last Wench blog on the typepad platform.

We’re now using WordPress, which means the blog has a different internet address.  This is the new one.

https://wordwenches.com/
While you’re at it, bookmark the new address so you‘ll find us every time.

If you want the blog emailed to you, you need to go to the new site, and in the right hand column you will see this form. Pop in your email address, and the blog will come to you.  

(The image on your right is just a photo, you need to go to the new site to fill in the form and get our posts by email.)

We won't share your address with anyone.

Thanks so much.

See you on the new blog.

Anne Gracie (on behalf of the Word Wenches)

 

Georgette Heyer & Faro's Daughter

Anne here again, bringing you the next post in the Georgette Heyer series, with excerpts from Jennifer Kloester's upcoming book, The Novels of Georgette Heyer, which has not yet been published.

Today I'm focusing on Faro's Daughter, another favorite of mine, and focusing on a few excerpts from letters Heyer wrote to her publisher. They read almost as a conversation — or at least as if he's sitting beside her and occasionally arguing or interrupting. The tone of the letters is most entertaining — funny and ironic and familiar — and you can see that they got on well.

Of particular interest (to me, at any rate) is the letter in which she begins telling her publisher about her still quite vague ideas for her new novel, and by the end, she's worked out the whole plot! And beware, if you haven't yet read Faro's Daughter, there are spoilers below.

Georgette Heyer to L.P. Moore, letter, 28 April 1941.

Must talk to you about my new book. No, not Casca – he’s nearly finished, & nothing to talk about anyway. The new one, I said. Do you recall a short I once wrote, & you or Norah sold to Woman’s Journal for a pittance? Well, it was a poor short, but it has the makings of a novel, & it is going to grow into a lovely romantic bit of froth for Heinemann. Title will remain the same – Pharaoh’s Daughter. Not Moses’ girl-friend, but a lady addicted to gaming.

Wooden Spoons

Anne here, and today I'm blogging about a very humble, yet often beautiful implement many of us will have in out homes. I'm talking about wooden spoons.

I have quite a collection of wooden spoons. I love the look and the feel of them, but also the practicality of them. Wooden spoons don't scratch your pans or bowls, they don't conduct heat, they don't react with your food or leave harmful chemicals, or change the cooking temperature. The photo on the right is of some of my wooden spoons I keep in a metal egg basket. I keep it on the bench top beside the stove and I like it because I can see whichever spoon I want at a glance.

Some of my spoons are beautifully carved, some are simple but hand-made, and others are probably machine-made. Some were gifts from people who know I like lovely wooden spoons. A few are souvenirs.

Wooden spoons are pretty much universal and reflect the domestic life of ordinary people. They have a very long history, probably starting from the earliest times of human cooking, when sticks were used to stir or cook food. Spoons predate forks by thousands of years, going back as far as the Paleolithic Era. Wooden spoons have been uncovered alongside gold and silver versions in the tombs of ancient Egyptians, indicating that their owners saw them as useful enough to be considered essential even in the afterlife.

When In Rome

Anne here, and today I'm diving right back into the past — my past and actual ancient history — sort of.

If you'd asked me, I probably would have said that my fascination with the Roman era began with the superb book and TV series I Claudius — but I'd be wrong.

When I was a student, I fell heavily for the Asterix and Obelix comic book series by René Goscinny and Albert Uderzo. If you don't know it, it's a very funny satirical French series about a village of indomitable Gauls during the Roman Occupation. The stars are Asterix (the small smart one) and his friend the huge and not-too-bright Obelix, who delivers menhirs (giant stones). And of course their tiny dog, Dogmatix.

The Romans haven't been able to conquer this village because they have a secret weapon — a magic potion created by their druid, Getafix.  Yes, Get-A-Fix — the series is full of puns of this sort. The names are hilarious. There is a bard called Cacofonix, an ancient called Geriatrix, the chieftain's wife is called Impedimenta, the fishmonger is Unhygienix, and his wife is Bacteria. 

The Roman names are also hilarious — centurians with names like Armisurplus, Ignoramus, Crismus Bonus, Dubius Status and Nefarious Purpus, Vitriolix, an architect named Squareonthehypotenus and so-on. It's all beautifully silly and fun.

Whenever the Romans try to conquer them, the villagers line up for their potion and POW! Roman soldiers go flying in all direction. Only Obelix needs no potion — he's permanently invincible, having fallen into a cauldron of potion when he was a baby.

Winners!

Anne here.

We ended up choosing two winners for Mary Jo Putney's giveaway of her book, Lady of Fortune.

They are Jane I. N. and Michele H.

They have been notified by email.

Thank you to everyone who read the post and left a comment.

WWR—What We've Read in February

Anne here, and it's my pleasure to present to you some of the books we wenches have been reading in the last month. 

We start with Pat, who read Deb Richardson-Moor's book, MURDER, FORGOTTEN 

I got quite excited when I started reading this contemporary mystery, thinking I’d found a really good new mystery writer. And the book is definitely well-written, with well-drawn characters and lots of red herrings and one could never be absolutely certain who the killer was until the end. There was even a point at the beginning where I was becoming annoyed with the main character for not realizing the obvious—and the author turned it around beautifully. Unfortunately, she picked up the same clue again later and let the character be an idiot. Worse yet, she killed off a POV character to whom I was attached. And from the very beginning, the one major clue everyone kept asking about was so verrrrry obvious. . .

But its redeeming value is the women’s fiction setting of Sullivan’s Island in South Carolina, with lots of lovely beach homes and nosy neighbors. The two main protagonists are mother and daughter, the mother a writer and the daughter an artist. The book starts with the mother slipping into dementia and her husband already murdered. As the police examine all the close-knit neighbors, secrets are unwound, and it’s impossible to know how much more is hidden. I’ll admit, I read every word and enjoyed it—but there were points when I really wanted to scream: Stop being stupid! So if you want to sink into a southern who-dunnit, this is fine. Just don’t expect perfection.

Next we have Nicola, who read and recommended  A SEASON FOR LOVE by Ally Sinclair, and had a bunch of Wenches running off to buy it. (It's on special too at the moment)

Emma Love takes over her mother’s matchmaking company and with the help of her brother determines to expand the business through a series of events with a Jane Austen style Regency theme.  However, this is Regency with a modern twist in the sense that the book is a contemporary Rom Com so the couples embarking on this old-fashioned style of courtship are more accustomed to online dating and casual hook ups than dancing the cotillion. Our heroine Emma is too fixated on developing the business to consider romance herself – until she bumps into the infuriating Mr Knight, for whom she just doesn’t seem able to find the perfect match. Meanwhile her friends Annie, Jane and Lydia are all at different stages of relationships and all are looking for something but not sure what form, if any, their HEA will take. The plot is structured around a modern version of the events of the Season and it’s completely charming and at times laugh out loud funny. A Season for Love is a book that manages to explore so many different aspects of love, friendship and relationships in a way that is thoughtful, diverse and emotional. It’s such a joyful book but profound and thought-provoking at the same time. I loved it and it left me feeling uplifted.

(Anne notes, this is the English author, Ally Sinclair, not the Australian author, Alli Sinclair.)

Lady of Fortune!

Lady of Fortune:

Anne Gracie interviews Mary Jo Putney

Anne: Mary Jo, I've just finished reading Lady of Fortune, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed it. And I'm not the only one. Here's a snippet of a current review: "A story which captivated me from the first page and I devoured in no time, eager to see how everything will come to its end."

Here's the set-up for Lady Of Fortune: Christa, the young half-French half-English Comtesse D'Estelle, narrowly escapes execution in the French revolution, but during her escape her English half-brother, Charles, Lord Radcliffe and her mother are attacked and presumed dead. Orphaned and grieving, Christa lives in the country with her step-uncle and guardian, the new Lord Radcliffe, but when she reaches the end of her year of mourning, to her shock, her guardian informs her that she is, in fact penniless. He proposes a solution to her situation that prompts Christa to run away to London, where she seeks work.

 

Georgette Heyer's Venetia

Anne here, and we're trying something a little new. A few times a year, we're going to feature some snippets from the Georgette Heyer posts of Jennifer Kloester, her biographer.  Jen has graciously give me her permission to use them, so I hope you find them interesting.

If you don't know Georgette Heyer, she pretty much created the Regency Romance. Jane Austen was writing what was for her a contemporary novel, but Heyer, writing in the mid 20th century, made the period her own, and sparked a whole subgenre of books, for which I'm sure we are all grateful.  I am particularly grateful for it, as I fell in love with her books from a young age. She is also is the reason I write what I write. She started writing from a very young age — her first book was begun to entertain her sick brother and was published in 1921 when she was nineteen.You can read more about her here. 

We'll explore a few of her books in these occasional posts, but since Valentine's Day is coming up, I thought I'd choose to focus on one of her most romantic books — Venetia. 

Heyer said this in a letter to her publisher friend AS Frere: "It may not be quite like Me, but I’m pretty sure the fans will like it." (7 March 1958)

And indeed they did.

Water Wise

Water Wise Bermuda

by Mary Jo

Anne Gracie found this interesting article from Atlas Obscura which describes how the island of Bermuda has managed to survive and flourish with absolutely NO natural sources of fresh water: no streams, lakes or rivers.   Since the Mayhem Consultant and I spent a brief honeymoon there, Anne suggested that I might revise the original travel blog with an emphasis on how how the island has managed with no natural sources of drinking water.

Except one: Rainwater. 

On our previous visit, our guide pointed out the white limestone roofs of all the buildings and explained that they caught rainwater and channeled it into cisterns under the houses.  At the time, that was just one more interesting fact about the island, but the AtlasObscura article explains a good deal more about this brilliant but simple architectural feature that made it possible to support one of the greatest population densities in the world.  (About 65,000 people on a mere 21 square miles of land pieced together from 181 islets.) 

All roofs on the island are required to be made of limestone and designed for rain catch.  The island is actually made of limestone so when erecting a new building, the stone taken from the ground can be used for the inch thick roofs. And those roof are TOUGH.   Some island roofs have lasted since the 17th century. 

 

Anne Gracie found this interesting article from Atlas Obscura which describes how the island of Bermuda has managed to survive and flourish with absolutely NO natural sources of fresh water: no streams, lakes or rivers.   Since the Mayhem Consultant and I spent a brief honeymoon there, Anne suggested that I might revise the original travel blog with an emphasis on how how the island has managed with no natural sources of drinking water.

Except one: Rainwater. 

On our previous visit, our guide pointed out the white limestone roofs of all the buildings and explained that they caught rainwater and channeled it into cisterns under the houses.  At the time, that was just one more interesting fact about the island, but the AtlasObscura article explains a good deal more about this brilliant but simple architectural feature that made it possible to support one of the greatest population densities in the world.  (About 65,000 people on a mere 21 square miles of land pieced together from 181 islets.) 

All roofs on the island are required to be made of limestone and designed for rain catch.  The island is actually made of limestone so when erecting a new building, the stone taken from the ground can be used for the inch thick roofs. And those roof are TOUGH.   Some island roofs have lasted since the 17th century. 

 

Hair

Anne here and today I'm talking about hair — specifically hair in the Regency and Victorian eras, not just hairdos but exploring a few attitudes to hair.

Hair (on the head — not so much elsewhere) has long been regarded as a woman's glory, and for much of history most women grew it long. Short hair on a woman signified that either they had been ill and their hair cut off to conserve their strength, or that some other disaster had befallen them. In Ancient Greece when the burial of the dead in the ground began, widows would cut their hair and bury it with their husbands. Centuries later women accused of being Nazi collaborators had their heads forcibly shaved to shame and humiliate them. 

However in the Regency era it became very fashionable (if also a trifle daring) to chop off your hair.  Thus we have some young ladies looking like this. This is a portrait of Lady Caroline Lamb.

At the same time, other young ladies kept their long hair and their maids arranged their hair in elaborate updos. (If you want to watch a short video on how to create a regency-era hairdo, click here.) Only young girls wore their hair loose, as long, loose hair on a woman was supposed to carry sexual connotations. When she turned 15 or 16, a girl would put her hair up, signaling her new status as a young woman. Married women and older women often covered their hair for the same reason. See my post on turbans.

The appropriation of statues from Ancient Greece and Rome, and works of art brought back by travelers returning from the Grand Tour, sparked a fashion for the "classical look" with curls and hairstyles resembling those statues and drawings, with hair worn in a simple chignon, with curls and ringlets softening the face or trailing over the shoulder.

What We're Reading in January!

Nicola here, introducing this month’s What We’re Reading. As usual we’ve got an interesting mix, and we’re really looking forward to hearing about your latest reads as well. Looking at my Kindle, all the most recent books on there are recommendations I’ve picked up from the other Wenches and these posts.

Having read every single one of the Jayne Castle Harmony and Rainshadow series, with attendant dust bunnies, I turned to the Arcane series and now to the Fogg Lake series, which is a contemporary romantic suspense trilogy with paranormal elements. There’s a Midwich Cuckoos vibe going on here. Years ago, the small town of Fogg Lake experienced something called The Incident, a mysterious explosion in the cave system beneath the town. The residents were knocked unconscious and when they recovered, they found they had new psychic powers.

Book 1 in the series is The Vanishing,written under her Jayne Ann Krentz name. Catalina Lark and her friend Olivia St Clair witness a murder when they are teens but no one believes them as it took place in the caves of their hometown Fogg Lake, and people think they were hallucinating. Years later, Olivia disappears and it becomes clear that someone is hunting the witnesses to the murder. Catalina sets out to find her friend with the help of Slater Arganbright, a mysterious operative from a shadowy law enforcement agency called The Foundation.

There are lots of parallels with the futuristic books in terms of the special powers that the protagonists possess, the strong heroines and the very hot heroes and even hotter romance. But – no dust bunnies!

A Cocky tale

Anne here, and this time I'm not going to be digging into any history, just a little bit of personal history. I hope you'll forgive me, but I'm in the last stages of a book, and don't have time to dig out some historical tale for you. This story was inspired by the photos you see in this blog which were taken by my friend, Cate Ellink — they took me right back to when I was a child, and we had a sulphur-crested cockatoo, just like the one in the photos. (And aren't the photos superb?)

I first met Cocky (he never did get a proper name) when I was a child walking to my primary school in a small country town. He lived on the end of a long chain and frequently hopped back and forth along the long peaked roof of a neighbor's garage, calling out things to passers by, things like "Hello Cocky", and "Hello Pooh!" and dancing up and down, his yellow crest bobbing.

Then one day those neighbors moved, to Melbourne I heard, and Cocky with them, I assumed. Later that week I was wandering with my dog down near the lagoon near where we lived on the outskirts of town, when I heard, "Hello Pooh," from high up in a nearby tree. It was Cocky. The neighbors must have released him into the wild. 

Now cockatoos are wild in Australia. They circle in great screeching flocks, or graze quietly on grassy swards, nibbling on grass roots, or perch en masse in gum trees chattering noisily. But a cocky that's been tamed or raised in captivity could never survive in the wild — even at the age of ten, I knew that.

Legitimate or not?

Anne here, writing with a sense of frustration — and no doubt preaching to the converted. The frustration is caused by the number of times I've come across books where an unmarried prince (or a king or a duke or any nobleman, actually) discovers he has a son, because some years ago he slept with a woman and unknowingly got her pregnant. Fast forward several years and he comes across this child and his mother, and decides to marry her and make the child his heir. 

Noooooooo!  I want to shriek. Actually I'm probably likely to stop reading at that point because it shows what I think is unforgivable ignorance of the laws of inheritance — historical laws particularly, but the law remains pretty much the same for contemporary titles of nobility.

These days for most people illegitimacy is no longer even an issue; nevertheless, especially in the past, it was a huge issue. An illegitimate son born to a noble father could not inherit his father's title, regardless of the child and father's wishes.

An illegitimate son born to a king might be given a title—for instance on reaching adulthood, the illegitimate sons of Charles II were given dukedoms, along with estates and wealth, and their own sons, if legitimate, could inherit their title, but they could never aspire to be King.

Because that would create chaos. Until recent years there was no way of proving paternity, so the closest men could come to ensuring they had true heirs of their body was through marriage. Of course, marriage was no guarantee of fidelity, which was why women were frequently 'cabin'd, cribbed, confin'd.'

Goodbye to Christmastide

Anne here, bringing us to the final day of our Christmastide posts. It's debatable whether it's the 12th day of Christmas — some sources say that is the 5th January, other say it's the 6th, but we wenches count the days from Christmas day. It's traditionally the day to take down your Christmas decorations and greenery, though I know many people ignore that these days.

But when I googled 5th January it said it was also National Whipped Cream Day. Which I think is ridiculous — who thinks up these things? But anyway, I couldn't resist.

Pavlova, a dessert very popular down under (where it's summertime at the moment) is often served at Christmas. If you've never had it, it's a meringue base, covered with lashings of whipped cream and topped with fresh fruit. Here's one I prepared earlier. <g> And if you'd like to see a truly spectacular Christmas Pavlova, click here.

Some people I know squirt their whipped cream out of a can, but I'm old fashioned — I whip it myself.

So here I am, wishing you Happy Whipped Cream Day (snort)! and welcoming you all back to our regular schedule of Wenchly blog posts — three times a week.

Do you like whipped cream? Or squirty cream? What do you like it with? Or do you avoid it? And what about pavlova? Are you a fan or not?

New Year's Eve

Anne here, and it's New Year's Eve. This is the third time I've been given the blog for New Year's Eve, so I looked up the old blogs to see what I'd written previously. My 2009 blog was quite interesting, as I was reflecting on how much had changed in the past decade, but now it feels like ancient history—which I suppose it is!

It's hard to believe 2022 is ending — the last few years have been quite extraordinary, with the pandemic — but when I look back on 2022, I can't decide whether it dragged or it whizzed by. Thinking about where I was and what I was doing a year ago, it seems as though it was years ago. But then I think about what has happened to me this year, and its as if only a handful of months have passed in a blur. So I'm confused. But I'm celebrating the coming of the new year anyway.

Do you do anything special on New Year's Eve? I vary. Sometimes I just meet up with a few friends for a quiet night, and we watch the fireworks. I love fireworks, and though there are various local ones, I enjoy the Sydney ones, where the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the reflections on the water make for a brilliant display. (The photo above is by Andreas Dress on Unsplash) 

I have friends who often hold a party on New Year's Eve, with a fire outside — it's summer in Australia, remember, so think warm, balmy nights. And sometimes stinking hot ones. I do love a fire, but we can't have proper big bonfires here because of the danger of bushfires.

I always drink a toast to "Auld Lang Syne." My Scots blood always comes out in me at this time of year, and one day I'd like to be in Edinburgh for Hogmanay (the Scots name for New Year's Eve.) Hogmanay is a big event in Scotland — bigger than Christmas for many — and fire plays a major part. One year they had a "Viking" torchlight procession — I would have loved to be there for that. There are some fabulous photos here. And more Hogmanay photos here.
There are so many rituals and traditions for ushering in the new year. Click here to read about some from other parts of the world.

Do you make resolutions for the new year? I usually reflect on the past year and think about my intentions for the new year, but I don't make resolutions. But if you do, there's a useful guide to sticking to your resolutions here.  

So, what about you? How do you celebrate the New Year — or is it just another day for you? (I also celebrate Chinese New Year. ) Do you love or loathe fireworks, or make resolutions? What are you hoping for next year?
HAPPY NEW YEAR from me, and all the wenches.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas!

Nicola here, wishing you a very Happy Christmas to those who celebrate the festival and happy holidays to everyone celebrating their traditions. Today is the first day of Word Wenches’ annual tradition of short daily blogs over the Twelve Days of Christmas.

This year for the first time in as long as I can remember, and possibly the first time ever, I’m spending Christmas in a hotel. Every year for the past forever we’ve either been at home, hosting family and friends, or visiting them as their guests. This year, though, my mother-in-law went into a care home near my sister-in-law’s home in the North of England so we are staying nearby in order to see everyone over the festive season. I’m writing this before we go and I’m wondering what it will be like. The hotel promises all manner of wonderful treats: delicious food including the full Christmas dinner, festive afternoon tea, carols and other live music and the chance to work off all the food in the gym and pool. It sounds great. But even at Christmas I find I still think about writing – will it be the sort of hotel that would be a good setting for a murder mystery? What will our fellow guests be like? Will there be rows – or romances? (I’ll be taking note!) Will it snow??? All will no doubt be revealed as our Christmas trip progresses! Wherever you are in the world and however you celebrate, the Wenches wish everyone peace and joy in the year ahead.

How are you spending the holiday season? Will you be at home, or away? Are there any special holiday traditions you enjoy with family and friends? 

Another Christmas Quiz

Anne here, celebrating the onset of the Festive Season with another Christmas Quiz. I usually have 12 questions, but I've extended this one and included several tricky questions from a previous quiz. 

As usual, you will need a pen and paper to jot down your choices, then at the end, click on the link to check your answers. Don't forget to come back and tell us how you went — and remember, it's not a test, it's just a bit of fun. 

1) In the Regency era, the Christmas turkey:—

    a) walked to London wearing special shoes

    b) was shipped to London by boat, to keep them calm.

    c) was brought to London by wagon, in specially constructed willow cages    

    d) wasn't eaten at this time — everyone ate Christmas goose

 

2) In a traditional mummers' Christmas play, a commonly appearing character was:—

    a) the king

    b) Saint George (of dragon fame)

    c) Saint Nicholas

    d) Oliver Cromwell

AAW: Word for 2023

Choose a Word for 2023:

by Mary Jo

Since 2022 is drawing to a close (already?!), it's time to think ahead about what we'd like in 2023. I've done this before here and in another group, but I think it's an interesting and mindful exercise to choose a word that can be a keyword or inspiration or talisman for the year ahead.

Do you want to EXPERIMENT and try something new? Learn to RELAX and let go of as much stress as you can? How about learning to FOCUS better? (That's a word I've claimed in the past!) Do you want to CLARIFY relationships or other elements in your life? Worth thinking about!

And the Wenches have been thinking about this!  Pat Rice is first:

I fear I very much live in the moment. Thinking or planning for a year doesn’t happen. Worse yet, I’m not inclined to meditation, inspiration, or reflecting on the past or future, possibly because I don’t believe I have much control over the events that most shape our lives. So I am hopeless at questions like these.

At best, I can plan for the events I want, and hope that eventually, the Fates will offer me opportunity. Does that constitute a keyword—opportunity? Once upon a time, I practiced writing, taught myself craft, wrote thousands of pages, and eventually, after years of sending out books, a new publisher decided to start a historical romance line and bought my book. I am not entirely certain opportunity encompasses all that.

 So I’ll simply choose the word ENJOY. While I’m wishing and hoping and plotting, I mean to enjoy the moment I’m in. If an opportunity to go out to lunch with friends interferes with my deadline, I’ll forget the deadline and enjoy the lunch because the chance might not come again.

On Darkness

Anne here, pondering darkness. But first, a little story from my past. As a teacher, I took many kids away on camp. Many schools these days site their "camps" in warm, comfortable buildings, but some of the schools I worked at couldn't afford that, so we pitched a motley array of borrowed tents on the ground, under the sky. (The photo below was taken by my friend Fiona McArthur.)

Many of those kids had never been out in "the bush" as we call it here, generally meaning untamed country, the wilderness, often national parks, and early on, I discovered something that quite shocked me.

Having grown up in cities, and often on high-rise housing estates, the concept of the dark of night was completely unknown to the students. Wherever they went at home, there were security lights, and even where there weren't any (or they were broken), the general light pollution of the city ensured that they could still see, more or less.

Far from the city, camping out in "the bush" they were away from street lights, there was no light pollution and, if the moon was hidden by cloud, it was dark — completely, utterly dark. And for some of them, that was unexpected and quite frightening.

Making Plans . . .

Hi all, Anne here.

We Word Wenches are currently making plans for the blog in 2023, so let us know what you enjoy about the blog.

And if you have any suggestions, ideas, or thoughts about what you'd like more of in the blog, less of, new features, please make them.

I can't guarantee we'll follow them, but we will certainly seriously consider them.

Thank you.

 

November What We're Reading!

by Mary Jo

Christina kicks off:

Snowed in for Christmas by Sarah Morgan.

Ms Morgan has done it again – I didn’t think she could improve on last year’s Christmas story, but this is her best one yet and I absolutely loved it! It was one of those books where you can’t wait to finish to see how it ends, but at the same time you are devastated to have to leave this fictional world. There is plenty of family drama, lots of delicious romance and some wonderful characters, all set against the backdrop of a gorgeous country house in the wilds of Scotland.

I think my favourite character was the grandmother, Nanna Jean, whose outspoken comments had me laughing out loud. I hope I can be like her when I’m old! One of the heroines, Lucy, has no family left and is dreading Christmas, but when she ends up spending it with the Miller family everything changes. She’s an outsider but they make her feel welcome and included, and it was incredibly heart-warming.

And although the family may seem perfect to her, they are far from it, with tensions and undercurrents rife. Daughters of the house, Alice and Clemmie, have their own problems and heartache, and I felt for them as they fought for what they wanted. Being snowed in proves to be a blessing, as they are all given the chance to work through their problems rather than run away from them. I was rooting for all of them every step of the way and couldn’t have put this book down if my life depended on it! Highly recommended.

 

Dolls' houses

Anne here. A few weeks ago, Christina blogged about Tiny Things, which I also enjoy. Recently I've been watching one of those "reality" TV shows where people compete to be the best at something — you know, like those cooking shows. In general I don't like that kind of show — putting people under time stress to make stuff and every week someone is a loser until finally only one "winner" is left. But despite my misgivings, I watched this one because it was all about miniatures and dolls' houses. It was a UK show called The Great Big Tiny Design Challenge and you can see a bit of it here.

I had to admit, I found it fascinating — I've loved miniatures and dolls houses since I was a little girl. But in the end, I found the show frustrating. I would have liked less frantic competitive making, and a slower program that really showed you what each person was doing — perhaps sharing and explaining some techniques. But I suppose that would only appeal to people interested in making miniatures themselves, whereas a competition with winners and losers is no doubt more appealing to a wider audience.

As far as I know, dolls' houses have only been around since the 17th century and then, in Europe, they were originally made not as play objects, but as teaching tools, intended for mothers to instruct their young daughters in how to run households. It was also to show off wealth, as the girls learning these lessons were practicing to be the lady of the house — not the cook or one of the servants.

In the 19th century, the concept of childhood changed (at least for the children of the rich) where play came to be regarded as natural and desirable for children. (The children of the poor kept working for a living, just like children in poor countries today.) The 19th century, particularly the Victorian era, is when dolls' houses came into their own. As well, industrialization meant that they became more affordable for more people. This period is still one of the most popular for miniature makers and dolls' house creators.

Pareidolia

Anne here, and today I'm talking about a new-to-me word — pareidolia. I came across it the other day and, being unable to work out its meaning from the context, had to look it up. Thankfully these days it's so easy to look up anything. Not like when I was a child, and my parents would say "work it out yourself or look it up if you can't."

That sounds a bit mean, I know, but it was excellent training. I was a voracious reader from a young age, and was forever coming across new words—lots of Regency-era slang too, when I was reading Georgette Heyer. But I learned to either work it out from the context or look it up in a dictionary, and since I was a bit lazy and wanted to get on with the story, I'd usually work it out from the context. Or skip it. <g>

But this new word intrigued me. Pareidolia—even my word processing program thinks it's a spelling mistake—is something we've all noticed often, and have probably been experiencing since we were small children. We just didn't know it had a name — at least I didn't.

Do you see things that aren't there? That's pareidolia.

Do you use emojis in your texts and emails? Pareidolia again.

Indoor Plants

Anne here, and today I'm talking about growing plants inside, in pots. Even though I've always had an outdoor garden, I've still loved growing pot plants indoors. And every winter, the cheerful splash of color from indoor flowering plants makes me smile. The color here is from a cyclamen, and each year I buy one or two that are about to start flowering, and their vivid blooms keep me feeling cheerful all through the gloom of winter. (This photo was taken last winter.)

For centuries people from all sorts of cultures have valued scented and flowering plants —Hanging Gardens of Babylon, anyone?— and bringing them indoors so that their fragrance and blooms could be enjoyed, perhaps also masking unpleasant smells.

From the 15th century, European explorers and colonizers brought home all kinds of "treasure" from the Americas, Africa, Asia, and Oceania — including botanical specimens — though few of these survived except under special conditions.

But as technology advanced to the point where whole buildings could be made of glass and steel, plants unsuited to cold Northern European climates — plants such as oranges, lemons, pineapples, and other delicate fruits — could be grown under glass.

By the 17th century, citrus trees were a status symbol among the wealthiest in society, and greenhouses and orangeries were built to protect these highly coveted specimens during winter. They might be called conservatories, orangeries, succession houses, or ferneries, depending on what they were growing.  (The photo on the left is a gorgeous modern version of the Victorian style conservatory, from this site.)

Flowering spring bulbs, such as narcissi, hyacinths and tulips, grown in pots, could easily be brought indoors when in flower. By the end of the 17th century, these were being ‘forced’ to flower early in winter by starting off the bulbs in the warmth of indoors. Hyacinths, with their heady fragrance were particularly popular.

Titles & Audiobooks

Answering Questions: Aristocratic Titles and Audiobooks

Compiled by Mary Jo

The Wenches invite readers to submit questions to us, and due to general overwork, two interesting questions got lost, but now are found.  So both questions are being answered today, and the questioners will each get a book from me.

Here is the first question from Rosa Berini Franco:

I would like to ask you about a question that has us debating several friends who are fond of historical romance.  The question is the following:

 When a distant relative inherits a title (e.g., earl) from someone who dies without direct heirs, do the sisters of that relative receive the courtesy title of lady?  By distant relative, I am referring to a fourth or fifth degree cousin who has no title whatsoever.

A Winner!

Anne, here, with a quick Sunday post to announce that Annette N. has been chosen to win the Christine Wells giveaway of her new book ONE WOMAN'S WAR: the story of the real Miss Moneypenny. She has been contacted privately.

Congratulations, Annette.

Thank you to Christine for visiting the wenches.

Thanks also to all those wenchly readers who contributed their suggestions of wonderful books in the discussion that followed Christine's interview.

One of the things I love about the wenchly community of readers is that we often have thoughtful and interesting discussions, and this was no exception. (My credit card thanks you also — so many excellent suggestions.)

If you want to find out more about Christine and her books, you can visit her website, follow her on facebook, or on Twitter.

Christine Wells and One Woman's War

Anne here, and today I'm interviewing Christine Wells, whose latest book, One Woman's War: A Novel of the Real Miss Moneypenny, is coming out next week. You can preorder it here.

Christine's books featuring strong, fascinating women have gained some wonderful reviews. “One Woman's War is a thrilling and suspenseful ride, perfect for fans of Kate Quinn, Beatriz Williams and Natasha Lester. Inspired by historic events, this story will have readers on the edge of their seats. Christine Wells’ masterful characterisation and meticulous research have made for one of the best books of the year.” (Kelly Rimmer New York Times Bestselling Author of The German Wife)
Booklist: “An exciting story, well told.”

Anne: Christine, welcome back to the Word Wenches, it's lovely to see you here. (For those who haven't met Christine before, she's been interviewed by Nicola, Andrea, and now me. You can see our earlier interviews with her by clicking on those links.

Christine, after a very successful career writing Regency-era historical romance (as Christina Brooke) you've switched in recent years to writing historical novels, set around WW2. Apart from One Woman's War, there is Sisters of the Resistance: A Novel of Catherine Dior's Paris Spy Network, inspired by the real-life bravery of Catherine Dior, sister of the fashion designer and a heroine of World War II France. The Juliet Code is about a British agent and wireless operator in occupied Paris who was caught by the Germans.

Ask A Wench About Chocolate!

Nicola here, with this month's Ask A Wench. It’s US National Choose your Chocolate Day (but that doesn’t mean that the rest of us can’t join in, right?) So here on the Wenches, we decided to chat about our relationship with chocolate. Is it a love story or a break up story? How long have we known chocolate for and how has our relationship with chocolate developed? 

Christina: I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know what chocolate was – it’s my main vice, the one thing I don’t think I could give up! As a child, I remember eating something called ‘Guldnougat’, which was basically a chocolate bar that was a mixture of milk chocolate and hazelnut paste (this is usually called Gianduja in the UK). It was incredibly messy to eat as it tended to melt when clutched in a small warm hand, but I adored it. Swedish chocolate on the whole is delicious, especially anything made by the most famous brand Marabou. Personally, I prefer the types without anything added other than nuts, but they have just about every flavour under the sun.

Pass the Gingernuts

Polly put the kettle on . . . as the old nursery rhyme goes.

Anne here, and today I'm talking about biscuits — not those baked items called scones in the UK and biscuits in the USA. I'm talking about those sweet treats that are called cookies in the USA and biscuits in the UK, Australia and other places. Just to make it more confusing, we also have cookies, but they are more the softer, slightly mounded treat that is half way between a crispy biscuit and a cake. Biscuits tend to be crisper and flatter — though they can also be softish. And just to add to the confusion, cookies to me are like rock cakes (see pic below). But let's not argue pointlessly about definitions — when I'm talking about biscuits, if you're American, just think cookies.

Over the years I've had a number of emails from readers asking about the gingernuts I often have my heroes crunch into. Are they the same as American ginger snaps? And do they have nuts? Never having tasted a US ginger snap, I can't answer the first question, though I think they're probably very similar. The answer to the second is, no, there are no nuts in a gingernut. And why is it called a gingernut? No idea. The web has various theories.

There was some interest from readers when I blogged about gingernuts recently on my personal blog, so I thought it might be fun to blog here about some of the other biscuits and treats my characters eat, usually with a cup of tea or coffee. The gingernuts my heroes often crunch into are crisp, sweetish, ginger biscuits, sometimes flavored also with cinnamon, cloves and other spices, and usually made with golden syrup. They can be baked crisp or soft.

Sparking young imaginations

Anne here, and today I'm talking about some of the early books that sparked my youthful imagination. I'm a firm believer that exposing children to fantastic and fascinating stories when they're young, helps develop their imagination. And I believe that my early exposure to magical worlds and memorable characters made me a writer in later life. 

My parents, and my older siblings, who were a decade older, used to read to me when I was very small. Until I was four, we lived in a remote house in the bush with no electricity, and so there was no TV or even radio to entertain us. But we had books, and the surrounding bushland, and as well there were stories told aloud — stories from Mum and Dad about when they were children, stories passed down the generations and plenty of made-up stories.

So intrinsic to our lives was storytelling that I'm told that as a toddler I used to sit in the sandpit telling stories to the dogs and the horse. Because they were the only ones who could follow my babble.

From a very early age my family read me AA Milne aloud — not just the Winnie the Pooh stories, but the poems and I'm convinced their rhymes and rhythms sank into my brain well before I could read. If you've only heard or seen the Disney imitations, try reading the originals. They're wonderful — funny, wise, and gentle. And Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore, Wol and the rest were utterly real to me. 

You can listen to this audio version, read by Stephen Fry, Judi Dench, Geoffrey Palmer, Jane Horrocks and others you might recognize.  It's wonderful, (though I don't understand why the on-line version is using a Disney illustration instead of Earnest Shepard's gorgeous drawings, which is what I'm showing here.) You can also buy it here.

Ask A Wench — Bird Watching.

Anne here, and today the wenches are talking about birds. A few weeks ago, when we were chatting on line, as we often do, we started to share bird stories, and it transpired that we were all very fond of birds. So the question we each answer today is this: What are some of your favorite birds, and where do you get to see them?

Nicola: As a child I loved the English garden birds such as the robin, which I read about in my books and saw when I visited my grandparents. We lived in the city and had a tiny garden but my grandparents lived in the countryside and were surrounded by nature. My grandfather was a keen gardener who knew all the different birds we’d find when we were outside and would point out to me the blackbirds, blue tits and sparrows. It wasn’t until I travelled abroad as an adult that I realised that birds with similar names could be quite different in other countries! I loved seeing an American Robin, for example, and was surprised how different it looked from a European one – except for the orange chest!

My dh is a keen birdwatcher and far more interested and knowledgeable than I, and when we moved to our village in Oxfordshire, we became involved with Royal Society for the Protection of Birds in species protection. It was an exciting time; we had one of the rarest birds in the UK, the Montagu’s Harrier, nesting locally. This beautiful bird of prey is very common in some other countries but not in England. For a number of years, we monitored the breeding pairs and the nests and learned so much about them. Sadly, the harriers are long gone from our area now but instead we have red kites which are also stunning birds. I love the kites, which are a successful re-introduction into the UK. In the Middle Ages they were common and would fly over towns and cities looking for scraps of food to eat. With their forked tails they were known as “devil birds.” They died out but now they are back and I enjoy seeing them up on the hills and flying over the village.