I knew about wearing black, but didn't realize there was an entire half-mourning ensemble you wore the second year.
Yep. My mourning garb is actually either second mourning (as you described above) or first mourning for a more distant relative because my dress has white cuffs and collar.
Err, WRT the half-mourning thing. I like, thought EVERYONE knew about that.
Gutta Percha is interesting.
Drag queen name! Dibs!
He also lied about his height, which just set her off.
Oh, that's WEAK. It would make me care about height more.
Sheesh, David. We have GOT to get you started on trashy (or, hell, classy, but sometimes, trashy's more, umm, fun) romance novels.
Why? Will it have more information about Georgian jewelry and half-mourning wear?
Will it have paragraphs like this?
Gutta Percha jewelry is made from a rubbery substance that comes certain types of trees indigenous to Asia. It's collected from the trees, treated and can then be molded or carved to form intricate jewelry styles. You can find all types of Victorian jewelry made from Gutta Percha - chains, bangle bracelet, earrings, lockets, etc. It can be tricky to tell the difference between this material and Vulcanite. One way to determine whether an item is Gutta Percha, is to rub it briskly on fabric, it'll emit a faint smell of burnt rubber.
Honestly, I could never read a romance novel.
::counts stab wounds, give JZ a thumbs up::
That's a bad blind date. He probably wonn't even wonder what he did wrong.
The rubbing briskly sounds about right for bad romance, Hec.
I used to
adore
Jean Plaidy. And associated alter egos...someone Holt, I think. I often feel tempted to dive back in for comfort reads.
you don't read enough romance novels , David.
in my garage fridge.
20 potato boats full of yummy shepard's pie. 1 mini shepard's pie.
In my freezer - enough shepard's pie fill for a pie that will feed us for a week
in my oven Mr. Ca. Lemon butt Chicken ( why my chicken has a formal title we don't know) with potatos.
and all dishes - clean or in the dishwasher.
xpost on the romance novels
My foot's asleep. My life sucks.
ETA: Funny what will push you over the edge.
My foot's asleep. My life sucks.
You should totally quit right now. It's pointless to go on. That way you can avoid that pins and needles sensation when your foot revives.
There's all kind of info on Victorian mourning customs and paraphenalia in mystery novels.
Why would anyone lie about his height? I mean, if he knew he was going to be seen in person. If it's a small enough lie to get away with, why bother?