What a difference a day makes. Yesterday in northern England we were bathed in sunshine and today its back to the same old dismal dampness. Our annoying drizzle though is nothing compared to the devastation inflicted by Hurricane Gustav as it swept across the Caribbean and on through America's Gulf coast states. Worse still, adding insult to injury, hurricane Hanna is gaining strength in the Atlantic apparently and tropical storm Ike is following suit. What a nightmare for the people who could be in the 'firing line'. Watching the mass exodus from the city of New Orleans on TV was like watching a movie. I can't imagine what it must have been like for all those thousands to leave their homes behind.
I have a little book that I often pick up entitled 'My Village' by Miss Mitford. This charming description of life in a Berkshire village 200 years ago makes a very calming read and is a welcome deviation from our 21st century problems.
Reading the entry for 9th September you realise that, although we live in very different times, nothing has changed over the years regarding the English weather. Miss Mitford writes..... 'We English are accused of talking overmuch about the weather; but the weather this summer has forced people to talk about it. A summer of coldness and cloudiness, gloom and rain. Worse than November! Never was known such a season. Hay swimming, cattle drowning, fruit rotting, corn spoiling and the river Loddon running about the country fields, roads, gardens and houses....'
'Our Village' has been reprinted many times over the centuries and is still readily available from antiquarian book sellers. My version was published in 1893 and contains dozens of evocative pencil sketch illustrations by Hugh Thomson.
1). Walking in the rain 2). A chat with the Lord of the manor
3). The charity-school 4). Boys games
Mary Russell Mitford (1787 - 1865)
There is a charming air of Jane Austin about Mary Mitford's writing but few Austin style love matches. The reader spends a year sauntering through the village in the company of Miss Mitford observing her neighbours and their cottages and then on down country lanes looking for primroses and violets. All very polite and civilized!
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