Wow!
http://twonerdyhistorygirls.blogspot.com/2012/07/friday-video-marie-antoinettes-automaton.html
Friday, July 20, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Diamond Snow, Part Two
“What do you think of our snow hill?” asked Nicholas’s voice, right behind me. I practically jumped, I was so startled.
“I…I suppose it is…very nice,” I stammered.
“Go with me the next time?” he asked lightly.
I felt like my face was on fire. “I…I…well…”
“Look out!” cried Ella as she and little Olga set off. It looked so much fun from a spectator’s point of view. Ella was laughing, and Olga was screaming in joy. Ella’s skirts were spread out and Olga sat on top of them. Well, that might work.
When they ended the ride, Ella came over to me and whispered into my ear,
“Come on, Alicky! Have fun! Aunt Minnie even went down once.”
I suppressed a giggle. The elegantly poised Tsaritsa, sliding down the hill!
“Alix, let’s go again!” said Xenia, tugging on my arm. I gratefully followed her.
This time, I sat down first in back, and Xenia sat down on top of my skirts. A little of my boot top was exposed, but this time I let it go. Ella’s had been too, and she was twenty-four and a grand duchess besides!
Just as Xenia pushed us off, I heard a loud, masculine whoop, and felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. Turning red again, I glanced back at Nicholas standing on the back of the sled, grinning. In spite of myself, I smiled, (once I’d turned my head back, of course,) and even let out a little squeal as we sped down the ice, ending all too soon in a heap where Nicholas practically flipped over, and Xenia rolled in the snow. I was left laughing on the sled, which I was glad of.
Slowly, as the rides down the hill - with Xenia, Ella, Kitty, Olga, Ernie…but never with Nicholas alone…I began to enjoy myself more. The nervous fluttering in my stomach subsided to nearly nothing, and I stopped blushing so deeply whenever I tumbled off the sled. I even began to look forward to each upcoming slide when I was climbing up the hill: eager for the breathless excitement and the thrill of going so fast in the biting cold. I thought it felt the closest to flying I’d ever come.
After what seemed my tenth slide, I took a pause, feeling breathless and chilly. I stood by a frosted tree, my breath coming out in white clouds, which reflected the puffy white whipped-cream clouds in the piercingly blue sky.
“Cold?” asked Nicholas, dashing up to my side.
“Yes! I’m used to it, though,” I rushed to say. “Hessian winters are very cold too.”
“Well, we can remedy that,” said Nicholas. He raced over to a footman standing stiffly by a giant, white-crusted bush.
“You there - what’s your name?”
“Vasily,” said the footman, expressionless still.
“Well, Vasily, fetch us…eleven cups of hot chocolate.”
“Eleven, Your Highness? There are only ten of you.”
“One for you,” said Nicholas.
Vasily remained stone-faced. “Very well.”
As Vasily walked away rigidly, Nicholas burst out laughing.
“I’ve never seen him smile, not once!”
I suppressed a giggle. My mind frantically searched for something to say. I tried to breathe deeply of the cold, crisp air. Catching sight of Mikhail and Olga packing snowballs, I wondered how the hill itself had been made.
“You…you don’t make the hill yourselves, do you?” I asked. The question sounded incredibly silly.
“Oh, no, the servants do it. The footmen! And they pour water on it, but you know that.”
Nicholas suddenly let out a strange “Aack!” and I, too, was tempted to say the same, for Mikhail and Olga began pelting us with snowballs.
And…I could barely believe it: formal Sergei was bending down and picking up a handful of snow. And my own sister, Ella, was daintily finishing a perfectly round snowball in her cerulean-gloved hands.
As Nicholas and I dodged the snowballs, I saw Vasily returning with a large silver tray with steaming glasses of hot chocolate. Then, seemingly out of nowhere - but I recognized that round, perfectly formed ball - a snowball hit his hat and knocked it off his head.
I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t resist laughing this time.
As the hot chocolate warmed us, Nicholas said to Ella,
“Mother wants me to invite all of you, including your father, for cards, music and zakuskas tomorrow evening at six, here at Anichkov. She would be pleased if you could come.”
“Of course,” said Ella, smiling. Her dark blond hair was wispy about her happily flushed face, and her hat was a bit askew. I’m sure mine was too. “I must return the favor, sometime, though. How would two days after tomorrow be to come to Beloselsky-Belozersky for tea at four?”
To my surprise, I was not nervous, thinking of these plans, only filled with delighted excitement.
When we finished our chocolate, Ella, Xenia and I went down the hill together. As we slid and shrieked, I felt like I was soaring. And the first time that day, I completely forgot about my ankles showing.
When we tumbled off, I lay breathless in the snow for a moment. I still felt like I was soaring, even when Nicholas held out his hand to help me up.
“I…I suppose it is…very nice,” I stammered.
“Go with me the next time?” he asked lightly.
I felt like my face was on fire. “I…I…well…”
“Look out!” cried Ella as she and little Olga set off. It looked so much fun from a spectator’s point of view. Ella was laughing, and Olga was screaming in joy. Ella’s skirts were spread out and Olga sat on top of them. Well, that might work.
When they ended the ride, Ella came over to me and whispered into my ear,
“Come on, Alicky! Have fun! Aunt Minnie even went down once.”
I suppressed a giggle. The elegantly poised Tsaritsa, sliding down the hill!
“Alix, let’s go again!” said Xenia, tugging on my arm. I gratefully followed her.
This time, I sat down first in back, and Xenia sat down on top of my skirts. A little of my boot top was exposed, but this time I let it go. Ella’s had been too, and she was twenty-four and a grand duchess besides!
Just as Xenia pushed us off, I heard a loud, masculine whoop, and felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. Turning red again, I glanced back at Nicholas standing on the back of the sled, grinning. In spite of myself, I smiled, (once I’d turned my head back, of course,) and even let out a little squeal as we sped down the ice, ending all too soon in a heap where Nicholas practically flipped over, and Xenia rolled in the snow. I was left laughing on the sled, which I was glad of.
Slowly, as the rides down the hill - with Xenia, Ella, Kitty, Olga, Ernie…but never with Nicholas alone…I began to enjoy myself more. The nervous fluttering in my stomach subsided to nearly nothing, and I stopped blushing so deeply whenever I tumbled off the sled. I even began to look forward to each upcoming slide when I was climbing up the hill: eager for the breathless excitement and the thrill of going so fast in the biting cold. I thought it felt the closest to flying I’d ever come.
After what seemed my tenth slide, I took a pause, feeling breathless and chilly. I stood by a frosted tree, my breath coming out in white clouds, which reflected the puffy white whipped-cream clouds in the piercingly blue sky.
“Cold?” asked Nicholas, dashing up to my side.
“Yes! I’m used to it, though,” I rushed to say. “Hessian winters are very cold too.”
“Well, we can remedy that,” said Nicholas. He raced over to a footman standing stiffly by a giant, white-crusted bush.
“You there - what’s your name?”
“Vasily,” said the footman, expressionless still.
“Well, Vasily, fetch us…eleven cups of hot chocolate.”
“Eleven, Your Highness? There are only ten of you.”
“One for you,” said Nicholas.
Vasily remained stone-faced. “Very well.”
As Vasily walked away rigidly, Nicholas burst out laughing.
“I’ve never seen him smile, not once!”
I suppressed a giggle. My mind frantically searched for something to say. I tried to breathe deeply of the cold, crisp air. Catching sight of Mikhail and Olga packing snowballs, I wondered how the hill itself had been made.
“You…you don’t make the hill yourselves, do you?” I asked. The question sounded incredibly silly.
“Oh, no, the servants do it. The footmen! And they pour water on it, but you know that.”
Nicholas suddenly let out a strange “Aack!” and I, too, was tempted to say the same, for Mikhail and Olga began pelting us with snowballs.
And…I could barely believe it: formal Sergei was bending down and picking up a handful of snow. And my own sister, Ella, was daintily finishing a perfectly round snowball in her cerulean-gloved hands.
As Nicholas and I dodged the snowballs, I saw Vasily returning with a large silver tray with steaming glasses of hot chocolate. Then, seemingly out of nowhere - but I recognized that round, perfectly formed ball - a snowball hit his hat and knocked it off his head.
I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t resist laughing this time.
As the hot chocolate warmed us, Nicholas said to Ella,
“Mother wants me to invite all of you, including your father, for cards, music and zakuskas tomorrow evening at six, here at Anichkov. She would be pleased if you could come.”
“Of course,” said Ella, smiling. Her dark blond hair was wispy about her happily flushed face, and her hat was a bit askew. I’m sure mine was too. “I must return the favor, sometime, though. How would two days after tomorrow be to come to Beloselsky-Belozersky for tea at four?”
To my surprise, I was not nervous, thinking of these plans, only filled with delighted excitement.
When we finished our chocolate, Ella, Xenia and I went down the hill together. As we slid and shrieked, I felt like I was soaring. And the first time that day, I completely forgot about my ankles showing.
When we tumbled off, I lay breathless in the snow for a moment. I still felt like I was soaring, even when Nicholas held out his hand to help me up.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Diamond Snow, Part One
A sequel to "The First Dance."
I stood at the window of my room at the Beloselsky-Belozersky at Ella and Sergei’s Belozersky-Belozersky Palace. Across the Fontanka River I could see the Anichkov Palace, the destination of my sister, her husband, my brother, Ella’s lady-in-waiting and I that January afternoon. It was to be a sledding party with the children of the Tsar.
Apprehension and excitement fluttered in my stomach as Ekaterina “Kitty”, Ella’s lady-in-waiting, buttoned the last tiny button on the back of my dress. In a way my corset made my nervousness worse. I knew it was silly of me to be nervous, because I’d already seen Nicholas just yesterday, and everything had been all right. Still, it was my nature, and I couldn’t help it. I was excited, too, though.
I could not see the snow hill in the gardens of Anichkov Palace, but I knew it was there. The glaringly bright sun glinted off the trim of the grand buildings all around the St. Petersburg streets, and I was reminded of the first time I’d ever been to that city, when I was twelve years old, for Ella’s wedding. I still felt some of that awe. This time, however, the entire city was covered in the most beautiful snow.
“Come, Alix, if you’re ready.”
My boot heels clicked on the polished floors as I followed Ella and Kitty down to the entry hall. A maid helped them into their fur-trimmed coats; then me. I felt weighed down and too warm. The hatpin securing my hat to the knot of hair on top of my head dug into my scalp, and the high collar of my dress scratched my chin.
I pulled on my fur-lined gloves, apprehension and excitement fluttering in my stomach. I heard hooves outside the door, and Ella called out,
“The sleigh is here!”
Clutching the inside of my muff, I followed Ella, our brother Ernie, Ella’s husband Sergei, and Kitty out of the double doors into the snow-covered courtyard. The cold bit me fiercely in the face, and I knew my nose would be red by the time we got there. Bother.
Ella, Sergei and Kitty rode facing the driver; Ernie and I rode so it would be backwards. The satiny lining of my muff slipped against my leather gloves as I rubbed it between my fingers.
“Eager to see Nicholas?” Ernie asked casually as we rode over the Anichkov bridge.
“Ernest! Don’t tease her!” Ella scolded merrily.
I bit my lip. What Ernie said was true. I was eager to see Nicholas. And Xenia. I hoped that they hadn’t invited anyone else; that there wasn’t going to be a great crowd of strangers. If there was anything I hated, it was that. I couldn’t help it, I was frightfully shy.
“There’s the Anichkov Palace, Alix,” said Ella, pointing. The elegant beige and white palace loomed ahead. It was simple, for a palace, not at all opulent like the Winter Palace. “You remember going to the party there that Aunt Minnie had for all the young people back in eight-four, don’t you?”
I remembered that party all to well. I’d had to give back a brooch Nicholas had given me a few days before, on the insistence of my sister Irene. I did understand that it was improper to accept a gift of that sort, even if it was only very small, and not ostentatious, but I still felt the agony of having to return it whenever I thought about it now, nearly five years later.
I heard happy shrieks from the gardens as the sleigh drove into the courtyard, and then a furry form ran towards the carriage.
“Alix! Aunty Ella! Uncle Sergei!”
It was Xenia. Ernie leapt out of the sleigh as it drew to a halt and held out his hand to help me down. My boot slipped on the snow-caked ledge, and I dropped my muff.
“Here’s your muff,” said Xenia, handing it to me. “But you’d better leave it in the carriage, ’cause we’re sliding on the hills! You’ll fall off if you don’t hang on.”
“All…all right,” I stammered, placing my muff on the seat of the sleigh. Ella’s muff joined mine.
Xenia grabbed my hand and began pulling me across the footprint-packed snow towards a large, slick hill in the expanse of the gardens. Two sleds careened down the hill all at once: Nicholas; George and little Olga; and then Mikhail on his stomach.
Gingerly I stepped over another sled laying on the ground as Ernie ran forward to greet Nicholas, who was getting off his sled. Ella and Kitty followed with Sergei at a more sedate pace.
I felt a little fluttery as Nicholas clapped Ernie on the back, but then he came forward, clasped my hand and said the briefest of hellos, and then moved on to Ella.
I felt the slightest bit disappointed as I heard him calling out “Tetinka!” his nickname for Ella. It means ‘little aunt.’
“C’mon, Alix, let’s go!” said Xenia, leaving no time for me to be disappointed any longer as she grabbed a sled and began pulling it up the hill. I followed, trying my hardest not to slip and make a spectacle of myself. I was glad that there was not water poured on the back of the hill.
Standing at the top of the hill, I looked down at the slickness of it, and cringed. It looked like fun, and yet I knew that if Irene was here, she would scold me that especially now that I was sixteen and had come out, I must behave like a lady and not improperly.
I looked out on the sparkling whiteness, like powdered diamonds, and the white-coated, bare-branched trees. I so longed to slide down. Desire to indulge in fun wrestled with my natural instinct to remain ladylike.
“Come on!” cried Xenia, sitting down on the front of the sled.
Carefully I sat down behind her, arranging my heavy skirts. I winced, seeing it was impossible to sit behind Xenia without putting my legs around her, and thus showing my ankles and thus a bit of my leg. I panicked.
“Xenia!” I hissed into her ear.
“What?”
“My…ankles! Can’t you cover them with your skirt?”
Casting an impish glance at her oldest brother, Xenia did as I asked. I smoothed my bunched skirts over my knees.
“All right,” I said. “I suppose you can push off now.”
With a yelp of excitement, she shoved us off, and we sped down the icy snow at an alarmingly delightful speed. I clutched the sides of the sled, the wood cutting into my hands, cushioned by my gloves. I held my breath, sitting rigidly because of my corset. Xenia kept on shrieking with the thrill of it, but I couldn’t do anything but hang on for dear life. I couldn’t even enjoy it because I was so worried about my ankles, about being improper, about falling off!
When we got to the end of the steep, glassy-smooth snow hill, I climbed off as quick as I could, shaking the snow from my skirts and blushing furiously.
Ella was climbing up the hill now, with six-year-old Olga leading the way. I watched in anticipation, wondering what Ella would do, how she would proceed. I had always followed her example as a little girl, and I still looked up to her often.
I stood at the window of my room at the Beloselsky-Belozersky at Ella and Sergei’s Belozersky-Belozersky Palace. Across the Fontanka River I could see the Anichkov Palace, the destination of my sister, her husband, my brother, Ella’s lady-in-waiting and I that January afternoon. It was to be a sledding party with the children of the Tsar.
Apprehension and excitement fluttered in my stomach as Ekaterina “Kitty”, Ella’s lady-in-waiting, buttoned the last tiny button on the back of my dress. In a way my corset made my nervousness worse. I knew it was silly of me to be nervous, because I’d already seen Nicholas just yesterday, and everything had been all right. Still, it was my nature, and I couldn’t help it. I was excited, too, though.
I could not see the snow hill in the gardens of Anichkov Palace, but I knew it was there. The glaringly bright sun glinted off the trim of the grand buildings all around the St. Petersburg streets, and I was reminded of the first time I’d ever been to that city, when I was twelve years old, for Ella’s wedding. I still felt some of that awe. This time, however, the entire city was covered in the most beautiful snow.
“Come, Alix, if you’re ready.”
My boot heels clicked on the polished floors as I followed Ella and Kitty down to the entry hall. A maid helped them into their fur-trimmed coats; then me. I felt weighed down and too warm. The hatpin securing my hat to the knot of hair on top of my head dug into my scalp, and the high collar of my dress scratched my chin.
I pulled on my fur-lined gloves, apprehension and excitement fluttering in my stomach. I heard hooves outside the door, and Ella called out,
“The sleigh is here!”
Clutching the inside of my muff, I followed Ella, our brother Ernie, Ella’s husband Sergei, and Kitty out of the double doors into the snow-covered courtyard. The cold bit me fiercely in the face, and I knew my nose would be red by the time we got there. Bother.
Ella, Sergei and Kitty rode facing the driver; Ernie and I rode so it would be backwards. The satiny lining of my muff slipped against my leather gloves as I rubbed it between my fingers.
“Eager to see Nicholas?” Ernie asked casually as we rode over the Anichkov bridge.
“Ernest! Don’t tease her!” Ella scolded merrily.
I bit my lip. What Ernie said was true. I was eager to see Nicholas. And Xenia. I hoped that they hadn’t invited anyone else; that there wasn’t going to be a great crowd of strangers. If there was anything I hated, it was that. I couldn’t help it, I was frightfully shy.
“There’s the Anichkov Palace, Alix,” said Ella, pointing. The elegant beige and white palace loomed ahead. It was simple, for a palace, not at all opulent like the Winter Palace. “You remember going to the party there that Aunt Minnie had for all the young people back in eight-four, don’t you?”
I remembered that party all to well. I’d had to give back a brooch Nicholas had given me a few days before, on the insistence of my sister Irene. I did understand that it was improper to accept a gift of that sort, even if it was only very small, and not ostentatious, but I still felt the agony of having to return it whenever I thought about it now, nearly five years later.
I heard happy shrieks from the gardens as the sleigh drove into the courtyard, and then a furry form ran towards the carriage.
“Alix! Aunty Ella! Uncle Sergei!”
It was Xenia. Ernie leapt out of the sleigh as it drew to a halt and held out his hand to help me down. My boot slipped on the snow-caked ledge, and I dropped my muff.
“Here’s your muff,” said Xenia, handing it to me. “But you’d better leave it in the carriage, ’cause we’re sliding on the hills! You’ll fall off if you don’t hang on.”
“All…all right,” I stammered, placing my muff on the seat of the sleigh. Ella’s muff joined mine.
Xenia grabbed my hand and began pulling me across the footprint-packed snow towards a large, slick hill in the expanse of the gardens. Two sleds careened down the hill all at once: Nicholas; George and little Olga; and then Mikhail on his stomach.
Gingerly I stepped over another sled laying on the ground as Ernie ran forward to greet Nicholas, who was getting off his sled. Ella and Kitty followed with Sergei at a more sedate pace.
I felt a little fluttery as Nicholas clapped Ernie on the back, but then he came forward, clasped my hand and said the briefest of hellos, and then moved on to Ella.
I felt the slightest bit disappointed as I heard him calling out “Tetinka!” his nickname for Ella. It means ‘little aunt.’
“C’mon, Alix, let’s go!” said Xenia, leaving no time for me to be disappointed any longer as she grabbed a sled and began pulling it up the hill. I followed, trying my hardest not to slip and make a spectacle of myself. I was glad that there was not water poured on the back of the hill.
Standing at the top of the hill, I looked down at the slickness of it, and cringed. It looked like fun, and yet I knew that if Irene was here, she would scold me that especially now that I was sixteen and had come out, I must behave like a lady and not improperly.
I looked out on the sparkling whiteness, like powdered diamonds, and the white-coated, bare-branched trees. I so longed to slide down. Desire to indulge in fun wrestled with my natural instinct to remain ladylike.
“Come on!” cried Xenia, sitting down on the front of the sled.
Carefully I sat down behind her, arranging my heavy skirts. I winced, seeing it was impossible to sit behind Xenia without putting my legs around her, and thus showing my ankles and thus a bit of my leg. I panicked.
“Xenia!” I hissed into her ear.
“What?”
“My…ankles! Can’t you cover them with your skirt?”
Casting an impish glance at her oldest brother, Xenia did as I asked. I smoothed my bunched skirts over my knees.
“All right,” I said. “I suppose you can push off now.”
With a yelp of excitement, she shoved us off, and we sped down the icy snow at an alarmingly delightful speed. I clutched the sides of the sled, the wood cutting into my hands, cushioned by my gloves. I held my breath, sitting rigidly because of my corset. Xenia kept on shrieking with the thrill of it, but I couldn’t do anything but hang on for dear life. I couldn’t even enjoy it because I was so worried about my ankles, about being improper, about falling off!
When we got to the end of the steep, glassy-smooth snow hill, I climbed off as quick as I could, shaking the snow from my skirts and blushing furiously.
Ella was climbing up the hill now, with six-year-old Olga leading the way. I watched in anticipation, wondering what Ella would do, how she would proceed. I had always followed her example as a little girl, and I still looked up to her often.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
A Poem for the Romanovs
In remembrance of their captivity...
We are trapped
The stifling air presses down
Windows painted shut.
Footsteps in the hall
Heavy boots
Remind us
That we are captives.
We can go
Nowhere
Now.
Not that we could
Ever go
Many places
Freely.
Comfort
Found in Sunday services
But abbreviated mass
Isn’t the same
As a church
With vaulted ceiling
Sacred hush
Richly colored icons.
Consolation
In each other
Our love for
One another.
Is it all that holds us
Together
Keeps us from breaking
Like so many china teacups?
Keeps us from smashing
Like a Faberge figurine?
Our love will survive
Stay strong
Keep us together
That much is certain
But how much longer
Will we last
Before the water engulfs us
Before we
Drown
Smash
Break?
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Apostrophes
One thing that drives me ABSOLUTELY CRAZY is mis-used apostrophes. Apostrophes are very nice, when used in the proper way. Like this:
Miss Tibble's basket.
I'm rather tired.
I wasn't there.
But when they are used wrongly...
We are going to the Smith's.
The 1910's.
Come on! It's not a contraction, like "we'll", or someone owning something, like "Lily's bonnet"! It's plural!
Miss Tibble's basket.
I'm rather tired.
I wasn't there.
But when they are used wrongly...
We are going to the Smith's.
The 1910's.
Come on! It's not a contraction, like "we'll", or someone owning something, like "Lily's bonnet"! It's plural!
Sunday, April 29, 2012
People in Paintings
This little girl is in a huge mansion - just look at that expanse of scarlet carpet! She looks lonely - her parents are away all the time, they send her fancy toys, pretty trinkets, even a dog. But she wants something more, see her dress? It reflects that she doesn't care about any of those exotic knick-knacks. Her only comfort in the ornately giant house is the little dog.
Now I've put myself in a sad mood...
Girl on a Red Carpet, Felice Casorati, 1912.
Hilda Fairbairn, Love the Pedlar, unknown date but early 1900s. Funny, I thought the painter was named Hilda Fairbairn Love, and the painting, The Pedlar.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Typewriter Mug
How I would love a typewriter like that. Of course, word processors with erase and fonts and such are so nice, but nothing beats the thrilling historical feeling of using an old typewriter.
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