Jimmy...

Jimmy Stewart

"On the whole, it's been a wonderful life.

I've had so many blessings and good fortune."

A Particularly Long Day...

Today was a long day.

I'm not quite sure why it seemed so. It wasn't a bad day, but not necessarily a particularly good one, either.

There were little soul-satisfying bits throughout, but I will be glad to lay my ever so tired head on my smooth pink pillowcase tonight.

The one good thing is the lovely stack of books that are sitting waiting for me on my World War II cot (which I use as a "couch") in my bedroom. We haven't belonged/been to a library in ages...something hard for me with my infinite craving for new reading material. I now have a little red card-stock-ish sort of library card for the tiny little library in the town near us.

I'll never get used to these little towns and their funny ways. They don't seem to realize how old-fashioned they really are. They believe they are quite up-to-date and official. It cracks me up...but I love it all never-the-less.

I still remember when they had to hand write book after book on a piece of paper for their "check out log". Quite the problem, considering we always fill bag after bag with our books to take home. In the last two years they have "modernized" and transferred a lot to computers. It is handy...at least we can check out much, much sooner now, but I sort of miss their neat "old-fashioned" ways...and they don't hand out little cloth bags to carry your books home in anymore. Previously coming from a big city, it was unbelievable to me that they freely gave bags to strangers to borrow and bring back each library visit. How neat is that?

This is what we get when we modernize. ☺

Anyhow, I'm soaking up these books like water after a long drought. Now that I have so many new ones available at my fingertips, I'm searching for other people's favorites to read. Do you have any suggestions for me? I'd love to hear them!

Emily

The Circular Staircase...

I picked up the book, The Circular Staircase, for a dollar or two at a tiny antique shop in a tiny little town near us, quite a few months ago. It's not my typical fare by any means--i.e. quite a few characters get "knocked off"-- but if I could read it...just about anyone could.

I'm sure you wouldn't find it as deliciously frightening as I did. I'm a big baby when it comes to anything even the least bit tinged with something "scary".

Though I consider Laura one of my favorite movies, I have to admit, I thought I would have a heart attack during the final scene the first time I saw it. *chuckle*

Two cousins were over and we were up very late watching movies. The house was dark and quiet and just as the scariest bits of the movie were flashing across the screen... the creepy-crawliest feeling scampered across the back of my neck. With the dreadful feeling of just knowing someone was stealthfully hiding beneath the dining room table, I took a flying l-e-a-p off of the couch, and landed right between my two surprised cousins who were at the time sitting on the floor. I couldn't bear to watch...so I finished out the movie peeking between my fingertips!

I hate to admit, but The Circular Staircase scared the wit's out of me, too, one night, when I suddenly found myself in my bedroom...alone...in the dark...after "waking" from my engrossed "delve" between its blue covers. *chuckle*

Certainly not one of my beloved favorite books...it is good and ever-so-fun, nevertheless. Here's a short excerpt from the beginning of the book. The author has such a quirky, dry sense of humor...this paragraph quite took me by surprise!

Halsey required less personal supervision, and as they both got their mother's fortune that winter, my responsibility became purely moral. Halsey bought a car, of course, and I learned how to tie over my bonnet a gray baize veil, and after a time, never to stop to look at the dogs one has run down.

People are apt to be so unpleasant about their dogs.

'50's fashion...

I thought you might enjoy seeing some

of these vintage fashion photos as much as I did.

Most of the photos were taken in the 1950's, and so many of the styles could easily be worn today. Some might need a little updating here or there, but the majority of them are still just as feminine, lovely, and classic as they were back then.

I had so much fun browsing through them!

A photo of model Suzy Parker--I love her hair!

Aren't her pearls and long gloves lovely?

How glamorous can you get?

The epitome of the classic '50's "girl-next-door" beauty.

Her perky, short hair and coat are just fabulous!

Isn't this lovely woman the picture of Parisian high fashion?

Paris...an umbrella...lovely high-heeled shoes...what could be better?

Isn't this exquisite?

All dressed up...

I love the detailing on her blouse, the fullness of her skirt,

and that cute hat perched atop her head...

A Meme...

Clare tagged me for this meme. It was fun carefully choosing my answers, but quite perplexing at the same time...there are so many things you could put down!

I tried to stay as clear from her answers as I could...but I've noticed that quite a few similar thoughts have snuck into my finished meme. It couldn't be helped, they were exactly my own. I have a sneaking suspicion that she and I just might be kindred spirits in more ways than one.☺

I am: passionate, shy, inspired, creative...and in love with life.

I think: deep thoughts about everything. Life is filled with so many beauties; so many complexities.

I know: that I am a beloved child of God.

I have: a strange love for musty old books and magazines, black and white photos, classic movies and actors, world war II...in short, everything vintage.

I wish: I knew exactly what path to take--which decision to choose.

I hate: pride, talking on the telephone to strangers, mosquito bites, and thoughtless people.

I miss: my childhood. But, I look forward to learning, seeing, and growing more, and becoming comfortable in my own skin.

I fear: the deaths of those I love.

I feel: deeply over little and big things alike.

I hear: the soft voices of my mom and sister, the loud chattering of the small children we have visiting us, and the whir of a fan by my ear.

I smell: french toast.

I crave: a good browse in an antique store filled with old books.

I search: for scrumptious yarn to make something lovely with, the knitting needles I supposedly own, which must have been eaten by my bedroom, ice cream I'm hoping is in the freezer, and that perfect pair of shoes.

I wonder: about so many things. I often lie awake at night with the covers pulled up to my chin...thinking on things that have puzzled me or struck me as being beautiful.

I regret: doubting myself so much.

I love: my family, my God, ice cream, letters, big sunglasses, walking in the rain, old movies, astronomy, and long words.

I ache: inside over beautiful things.

I am not: the first one up in the morning.

I believe: in always standing up for what is right.

I dance: when no one is looking.

I sing: all the time. I sing Elizabeth to sleep, when I'm in the shower, when we're driving in the car, when I'm cleaning...

I cry: over sad movies and beautiful things.

I don't always: do what I mean to.

I fight: for what I believe is right. I'm very shy and I won't usually stand up for myself...but don't try to push around my family, young children, or others in my presence. Mama doesn't call me her little "spit-fire" for nothing!

I write: about what is close to my heart.

I win: the game Pacheesi nearly every time I play.

I lose: everything I'm looking for. I lose my lipstick, sunglasses, scribblings, and every important paper...I'm much too busy thinking those deep thoughts. I know I'll find what I'm looking for...eventually.

I never: can have enough books to read.

I always: have one idea or another in the back of my mind.

I confuse: myself. And others...I think. I can explain things so well when I am writing them down, but if I have to explain something to someone face to face (who isn't in my family) my shyness overtakes me and my words don't seem to come out as I mean them to.

I listen: to the whisperings of my God in my heart.

I can usually be found: at home with my family, with a book or knitting project in hand, or a piece of paper I'm madly scribbling on...and continuously losing.

I am scared: of heights, scary movies, spiders, and...that's why I have a big sister. ☺

I need: to be loved.

I am happy about: capturing an elusive word.

I imagine: so many things, all day long. Stories, movies, life...it makes work go faster and life more interesting.

I am wearing: an old, comfortable, pair of blue jeans and a gray t-shirt. Un-lovely, but perfect for scrounging around the house in.

I look forward to: the "someday" when some of my dreams may come true.

Dreams...

Grace Kelly

The future belongs to those

who believe in the beauty of their dreams.

Eleanor Roosevelt

A Sunday Afternoon...

Yesterday, we discovered that Elizabeth had sprouted a mysterious set of "spots" all over her little tummy, so we stayed home from church today. I haven't accomplished many of the things I was hoping to, but maybe I can still squeeze in the walk I've been meaning to take.

An aunt and cousin surprised us with a visit this afternoon and our grandparents drove up from town like they usually do every Sunday.

My "Papa" always brings his little dog Penny with him and sits in the same spot, on the same couch, with Penny curled up on his arm. He is solemn and quiet, and pretends he's not listening to our conversation, though I know he really is. He sits with his hat pulled low over his brown eyes until I come along to stir up the wonderful old stories he has within him.

We "women" always sit at the dining room table, Sarah and I, armed with our knitting, fingers flashing, are busy weaving yarn into something lovely to wear.

My "Nana", bubbly and talkative, sits with her fingers curled around a thick mug filled with hot, steaming coffee. I often fix it for her, just the way she likes it, with just a dash of milk to cloud the black liquid and turn it into a lovely coppery tone.

Everyday life resounds in my ears...these sounds have become lovingly familiar to me. The clink of spoon against a mug, Sarah's laugh, Elizabeth's eager delight in showing something to Nana that she probably showed her last week, the offering of food to Papa which he will unfailingly turn down.

Sometimes it seems like we go through the same motions each week, say the same things, offer the same food, laugh over the same funny stories....but truthfully, I never grow tired of it. I know one day I'll be so grateful to have spent this time happily with my grandparents. And I wouldn't for the world miss a second of it.

A Handful of Time...

There's always been something I've really liked about the story, A Handful of Time. The main character, Patricia, is only twelve, but re-reading this story again now, it still doesn't seem too child-ish or far out there.

It's one of those "fairy" stories you just have to love--mixed in with a good bit of lazy, old-fashioned summer--about something that just couldn't happen, but is believable when it does.

Maybe I always liked it so much because it dealt with a girl who travels back in time--something I always longed to do. Here's an excerpt:

Patricia ran her hands rapidly over the tufted pattern of the chenille bedspread. She couldn't believe that she was back here so suddenly...that the vivid dream was over. She rubbed her forehead, trying to wake up fully.

Her hair was damp.

She pulled her fingers through it and started to tremble. Her hair was damp because an hour ago she had stuck her head under icy water that had seemed surprisingly real.

Had it been real? She had been just as wide awake then as she was now. She had known it all along in some part of her. Pretending it was a dream had cushioned the shock of what had happened-- that, somehow, she had been spirited back thirty-five years to her mother's childhood and now, just as mysteriously, had returned to the present...

...She curled up and pondered every detail of the adventure. Her grandparents, Pat and Andrew. (Why not Wilfred?) Her uncles, Gordon and Rodney. Her aunt, Ginnie. And especially Ruth, her mother. Ruth's anger and isolation and unhappiness. And old cars and wood stoves and pumps and the canoe and the strange call of a bird...Patricia closed her eyes.

A Handful of Time
By Kit Pearson

Debbie...

Debbie Reynolds

Look for the woman in the dress.

If there is no woman, there is no dress.

Coco Chanel

Moon...

The tiniest sliver of a moon is hanging in the night sky tonight above our heads--golden-y perfect--it makes me dream of places I want to see and of the person I hope to become.

Somehow, when I see the night sky and catch a glimpse of that loveable old moon, I get shivers all the way down to my toes. God becomes more real to me than at any other time. I can hear His voice whispering...and it isn't hard at all to imagine Him standing right beside me.

Stepping out on the little patio outside our back door to give our kitties their nightly "snack", the warmth of Life and the beam from our back yard light spilled over me. Feet bare, I stood there for a moment or two watching the fireworks a distant neighbor was setting off, hearing the laughter of their voices come echoing across the fields...humming into my ears.

Life is so vibrantly beautiful. It goes by so quickly, sometimes it's hard to take it all in at once. It helps me to write it out. I don't want to forget a second of it, and somehow the process of scritching it all out on paper, or tap-tapping it out across a keyboard, helps me to remember.

Good-night!
Emmy

Independance Day...

May you have a wonderful 4th of July!

Though I'm young, I want to stand up for the ideals and dreams our country was founded on. Amidst all of the trials and troubles, we truly live in a great country; I am so proud to be a part--no matter how small--of America's history.

I hope we always remember how blessed we are to have been raised with freedom as a matter-of-fact.

Much Love,

Emily

Veronica, Veronica...

Veronica Lake

Veronica's look was such the rage that even the Canine set started copying it!

Isn't this ever so cute?

Young and Willing...

I'll have you know that I am the first person on Blogger to claim Young and Willing (1943) as one of my favorite movies. That's quite an accomplishment, yes? *smile*

Actually, I'm ever so surprised that such a cute movie isn't more well-known. Maybe I just have poor taste...but instead of admitting that, I rather like to think that someone just forgot to include it one day on that "Cute Movie" list and it has since vanished into oblivion.

Starring an extra-young looking Bill Holden (23)--so young in fact, that my sister didn't believe me when I pointed him out to her--Susan Hayward, Robert Benchley, Barbara Britton, Martha O'Driscoll, and Eddie Bracken--such a funny, likeable sort of man.


Young and Willing tells the story of a group of young, eager actors, all down on their luck, who band together to share living expenses until they can each find work. Only problem is, the father of the girl who rents the apartment doesn't know she's sharing it with five other people...if he finds out, "Dottie" will be snatched back home and all of their careers will be over before they have even had a chance to begin! When a friend of Dottie's from back home comes snooping around, eager to run home and tattle, they know they have to stop her at all costs.

What follows is a hilarious series of events, a bit wacky, but ever so loveable!