Pride and Prejudice: Designed for Each Other

On Saturday morning Elizabeth and Mr. Collins met for breakfast a few minutes before the others appeared; and he took the opportunity of paying the parting civilities which he deemed indispensably necessary. . . ."You may, in fact, carry a very favourable report of us into Hertfordshire, my dear cousin. I flatter myself at least that you will be able to do so. Lady Catherine's great attentions to Mrs. Collins you have been a daily witness of; and altogether I trust it does not appear that your friend has drawn an unfortunate—but on this point it will be as well to be silent. Only let me assure you, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that I can from my heart most cordially wish you equal felicity in marriage. My dear Charlotte and I have but one mind and one way of thinking. There is in everything a most remarkable resemblance of character and ideas between us. We seem to have been designed for each other." 

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice Chapter 38

I don't know what it is about the color red, but "she" and I seemed to have been designed for each other.  (And yes, I believe all colors have genders, as do automobiles and kitchen gadgets.)  My wedding colors were black, white, and RED.  The first wall I ever painted was RED.  And when I take those color personality tests, I always come out as a RED.

 I love red on wallpaper.

 I love red on doors.

 I love red on cushions.

But I don't have NEARLY enough red in my yard. Each year I sprinkle my garden with the queen of colors, but only in small doses.  These are pictures of my yard from last summer.

Can you say restrained, timid, and BORING?

Well, this year is going to be different.  This is the year to "go big or go home."

I want to have sweeping beds of red like these in front of my house . . .

I want bursts of red throughout the greenery like these . . .

And I want my window boxes and porches to be as stunningly scarlet as these . . .

The only thing that could make my vibrant dream complete would be an entry like this.  Be still, my beating heart . . .

Dreaming in red is the easy part.  Now comes the hard work. 
 So if you'll excuse me, I need to head out to my garden to get planting . . .

Sharing at . . .

Cedar Hill Ranch
Between Naps on the Porch 
My Uncommon Slice of Suburbia
Homestories A to Z
Jennifer Rizzo
StoneGable 
No Minimalist Here
Common Ground
From My Front Porch to Yours   
French Country Cottage 
At the Picket Fence
Stuff and Nonsense   
Savvy Southern Style 
It's Overflowing 

Pride and Prejudice: A Local Pemberley

"Elizabeth, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. . . . They gradually ascended for half-a-mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road with some abruptness wound. It was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something"

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice Chapter 43

I've often wondered what draws me most to Pemberley House (aside from Mr. Darcy, that is).  Is it the stone exterior?  The expensive furniture?  The glorious gardens?  The melodious pianoforte or historic portraits? 

Nope.

What I love most about Pemberley House is the housekeeper.  

Really, who wouldn't want a small-bodied, well-mannered, crazy-efficient woman who has nothing but good to say about you even though she spends her life cleaning up your messes and keeping the home fires burning when you are off on a hunting party or in London on business. 

I'm telling you.  Elizabeth Bennet had no idea what she was missing out on when she first refused Darcy's proposal.

When I saw this house on a home tour, it reminded me of a smallish Pemberley House with its handsome exterior, manicured gardens, and verdant setting.

I love the details on this house, from its scrolled iron work and rustic bricks, to its elegant lanterns and stone quoins.

My heart feels all melty inside when I see boxwood hedges . . .

especially when they frame white rose bushes.

I love any homeowner who uses a rustic brick wall as a backdrop for a vibrant flower bed.

And what garden is complete without the refreshing sound of trickling water?

The water feature in the back yard is even more impressive.  An actual river winds its way through the property.

It's hard not to fall in love with beautiful houses and grounds like Pemberley and this lovely house above.

But somewhere beneath all the initial "oohs" and "ahhs", there is a special place in my heart for the talented hands that keep it looking that way.

So if you are a housekeeper (or gardener), my hat is off to you.  

And now, I have two questions for you:

1.  What would the Pembereleys of the world be without you?

and

2.  Why can't you come to my house?

Sharing at . . .

Cedar Hill Ranch
Between Naps on the Porch 
My Uncommon Slice of Suburbia
Homestories A to Z
Jennifer Rizzo
StoneGable 
No Minimalist Here
Common Ground
From My Front Porch to Yours   
French Country Cottage 
At the Picket Fence
Stuff and Nonsense   
Savvy Southern Style 
It's Overflowing 

Huckleberry Finn: Solving the Zucchini Mystery and a Recipe

"I couldn't hardly get my words out, I was so anxious; but I told Tom as quick as I could we must jump for it now, and not a minute to lose -- the house full of men, yonder, with guns! . . . Then there was a rush, and a bang, bang, bang! and the bullets fairly whizzed around us!"

Mark Twain, Huckleberry Finn

I walked outside today to find a club-of-a-zucchini in the middle of my lawn. As I got closer to the behemoth, I realized its surface was riddled with small holes.

Now, I have to confess something here.  I wasn't as perplexed by the enormous vegetable on my lawn as I was by its holes, seeing as I find all SORTS of random objects in my grass, from spatulas to writing utensils.   (Ah, the joy of having children . . . ) 

In my mind, I quickly ran through the list of possible hole perpetrators.

Decay?  Maybe.

Squash bugs?  Perhaps.

Aggressive birds?  Most likely.

But then I looked more closely at the holes.  Nestled snuggly in the thick of the zucchini skin were several white BB gun bullets.

Unless the local magpies had recently been brushing up on their Air Soft skills, I realized that
my 11-year-old had come up with yet another use for zucchini:  target practice.

Now, if you aren't into vegetable warfare, or regard your garden produce with more respect than we do around here, you may want to consider using your own zucchini for these instead . . .

I made a batch of these today with bullet-free zucchini from the garden.  The cookies are soft, moist, and the perfect way to use up a few more of those prolific gourds.  

Besides, these cookies are smothered in cream cheese frosting.  

I'd eat a gun-wielding magpie if it was smothered in cream cheese frosting.

Here's the recipe:

Frosted Zucchini Cookies

1 cup butter

1 cup sugar

1 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon cloves

2 cups shredded zucchini 

(I squeezed some of the water out of the zucchini first)

4 cups flour

Frosting

4 ounces cream cheese

4 tablespoons butter

1 teaspoon vanilla

2-3 cups powdered sugar (depending on how thick you like your frosting)

Cream butter and sugars together until smooth.  Add eggs and vanilla.  Sift dry ingredients and add to butter/sugar/egg mixture.  Finally, add zucchini and mix until blended.  Drop by tablespoonfuls onto a greased cookie sheet at bake at 350 degrees for 10-12 minutes.  Let cool and then spread frosting on top.

If you like these cookies, you'll have to try THESE.  I'd give both a "5 Bullet Rating".

Happy shooting cooking!

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House of Hepworths

Stuff and Nonsense

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Anne of Green Gables: A Garden Tour

“I read somewhere once that souls were like flowers,' said Priscilla.
'Then your soul is a golden narcissus,' said Anne, 'and Diana's is like a red, red rose. 

 Jane's is an apple blossom, pink and wholesome and sweet.''

And our own is a white violet, with purple streaks in its heart,' finished Priscilla.” 

~ Lucy Maud Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea 

Confession:  I'm a deceitful and conniving mother.  In honor of Anne of Green Gables month on Be Book Bound, I sat my boys on the family room couch the other day and announced that I had a special treat for them.  I'm sure dreams of Wii games and junk food came crashing down as they watched me put a worn and weathered cassette into the VCR.  Anne of Green Gables.  Three measures into the theme song and my boys commenced moaning.  The only thing that could have made them more miserable is if I had force-fed them zucchini with cough syrup chasers while they watched the film.  I lovingly explained how much these books meant to me as a girl, and how I was sure they would love the movie as much as I did.  From the groans on the couch you would have thought that all of my children had contracted appendicitis at once.  I finally resorted to blackmail:  I would only serve dessert to the boys who watched the movie.  Hmphf.  So there.

Two hours later, my husband had to peel the children away from the TV to send them to bed---in spite of their protests that they had to see "what happened to Anne."  I would have put them to bed myself, but I was too busy crying.  I gave them all hugs and kisses goodnight, and then I added a triumphant:  "I told you so."  

This whole month has made me wish that I could write Lucy Maud a letter.  If I could, this is how it would read:

Dearest Ms. Montgomery, 

Thank you.  

Thank you for creating a timeless story that mothers and sons can share together.  

Thank you for Anne Shirley and her sense of passionate wonder.  

Thank you for giving us all a million more reasons to be book bound.

Yours Truly,

Erika (with an E)

As a parting homage to our dearest Anne, Miriam and I thought it only appropriate that we invite you on a stroll through the garden so that you can soak in beauty of God's green earth and let the sights of spring sing sweetly in your hearts.  We know that's what Anne would do.

So welcome to the garden . . .

Come on in through the monogrammed gate . . .

 Take a rest in the gazebo . . .

 Or stroll down the stone paths . . .

And find a quiet place to read...

Say hello to the birds and bullfrogs that call the garden home . . .

Enjoy the flowers of the front gardens . . .

And the blooms in the window boxes . . .

 Ring the rooster if you've enjoyed your stay . . .

We hope you've had a wonderful month.  
We look forward to sharing "A Little House on the Prairie June" with you . . .


Now Linking To . . .

Jennifer Rizzo  ~ At the Picket Fence  ~  French Country Cottage  ~  Common Ground  ~  Stuff and Nonsense  ~  My Romantic Home  ~  Happy Go Lucky  ~ No Minimalist Here  ~  Southern Hospitality  ~  The Charm of Home-