Jane Austen and Friends Vacation

Cleveland, Ohio

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Cloudy Snow 32ºF

Monday, April 1, 2019

Sunny Blue Skies 39ºF

3-31-19 & 4-1-19

On the Road to Cleveland and Back

Hi, Nancy.

Too excited to sleep, I woke at 5 AM Sunday. Vertigo hit. Not the overpowering vomit-and-don’t-move kind. The woozy, fragile-feeling, effervescence circling around my brain kind. Sheesh. I’d planned to drive to Cleveland for a two day adventure―attending a Jane Austen meeting and visiting friends. Hoping to stabilize, I skipped yoga and slow-walked through packing.

The fragile feeling continued.

Spence offered to drive me. But I was determined to drive myself. Breathing cold, fresh air on the walk to the garage helped cleared my head. I drove west.

Snowflakes floated from the lumpy gray sky. They blanketed trees and wet the road. In gorgeous, winter-wonderland scenery, the first 60 miles flowed smoothly. Then came the 61^st. The insides of my head swirled like wind-buffeted snowflakes. I gripped the steering wheel and followed the car in front of me. When it turned off, I followed the next one. The last car led me to the library parking lot.

Not moving calmed the vertigo. After 3 hours, I aced the short drive to a friend’s condo. She served handmade sorbet. Sweet, raspberry and mango flavors delighted me. I only ate half as much as I wanted because a sugar rush could trigger worse vertigo.

At dusk I drove to a second friend’s house. With plenty of sleep, relaxing girl-talk, and nourishing food, I stabilized. I packed for a late afternoon drive home.

My friend punched phone keys and said the trip should take 1 hr. and 35 min.

I hugged her. Snow glistened. I drove home without the woozy, fragile-feeling.

Love,

Janet

3-31-19

Mayfield Heights Library, in one of Cleveland’s Eastern Suburbs

Hey, Reid and Claire.

I attended a talk by Dr. Jocelyn Harrishttp://upress.blogs.bucknell.edu/2017/10/16/the-inexhaustible-jane-austen-an-interview-with-jocelyn-harris/. She called her speech “What Jane Austen Saw – in Henrietta Street.” She could have titled it “The Bawdy and Political Inspiration for Jane Austen’s Characters.” What an intellectual hoot!

Walking to the lectern, Dr. Harris sneezed into a handkerchief, coughed, and apologized for the cold she’d caught on a plane from her home in New Zealand. But the cold made her accent mesmerizing. And her Maori pendant held my attention.

Dr. Harris’s PowerPoint photos showed formal portraits of famous, voluptuous mistresses that Austen used for Elizabeth and Jane in Pride and Prejudice. Who knew?

More entertaining were the caricatures hanging in print shop windows. The caricatures inspired Austen’s less amiable characters. She used James Gillray’s corpulent caricature of the Prince Regent to describe John Thorpe, a Northanger Abbey character with excess vanity and deficient intelligence. And, like a caricature of advisers warning the Prince to retrench from his extravagant spending, Austen’s characters warn the vain and extravagant Sir Walter Elliot to retrench in Persuasion. Of course I recognized the Austen references. The caricatures were new.

Someone asked if Austen risked fines and prison for poking fun at the Regent.

Dr. Harris held her hands as if in prayer and nodded. “The Regent was a fan of Austen’s writing,” she said. “Luckily he didn’t recognize himself in her novels.”

Another Janeite moaned and said she would never read the novels the same way.

No surprise to me. Austen grew up with six brothers and her father’s students running around the house. Her sense of humor, with bawdy subtexts, is fine with me.

Love,

Janet

3-31-19

Mayfield Heights Library, in one of Cleveland’s Eastern Suburbs

Hi, Lori and Eliza.

When I walked into the library for a lecture on art Jane Austen saw, old friends from northeast Ohio took note. Their postures straightened, eyes sparkled, and mouths turned into cheek-wrinkling grins. As if I were Jane Austen’s niece, they fussed.

•Jennifer, from Novelty, hung her coat on the chair next to me. “Great to see you.”

•Charla, from Shaker Heights, stopped dithering about snow keeping people away and said, “I’m so glad you made the trip.”

•Elizabeth, from Akron, looked younger. She patted my arm. “Welcome, stranger.”

The meeting paused the friendly welcomes. Through the presentation, Janeites laughed, sighed, and gawked at caricatures. After applause for the speaker, conversations resumed. Again and again, I told stories of Spence’s lead poisoning campaign, Charlie’s promotion causing extra duties at UPS, and Ellen’s tenure year at Purdue.

And while I sipped licorice tea and nibbled a banana, I caught up, one by one, with friends’ families.

•Amy, from Chardon, beamed. Her ten-year-old son attended his first Shakespeare play, The Taming of the Shrew.

•Helen, from Parma, wrung her hands. Her daughter drives across town to Laurel in Shaker Heights. “I won’t let her drive on four-eighty! She takes Rockside Road.”

•Ursula, from Akron, fretted. She couldn’t see her great-granddaughter in New Zealand.

As for Sharon in Cleveland Heights―her son has two fine boys.

The morale? Move out of state, stay away for months, and get celebrity treatment.

Love,

Janet

3-31-19

Darlene’s Condo in South Euclid

Hi, Sister Julie.

Darlene piqued my curiosity with texts and emails about seeing deer, raccoon, and red-bellied woodpeckers from her balcony. I made the trip to visit her and see for myself.

She gave me a tour of her second floor condo―spacious, light, and decorated by her mother’s art. Perfect fen shui. Darlene chuckled and pointed to her TV. “My pets.” She continuously played cat videos because she’s allergic to cats and dogs.

The view through her glass doors and windows enticed me outside despite the two inches of snow on the balcony. A creek gurgled between her backyard and the wooded hillside. Snow accented the curves and angles of every tree branch in the acre-or-so pastoral scene. A red-belled woodpecker crept up the tree with branches almost reaching the balcony railing. Deer and raccoon didn’t make appearances.

Back inside, I pulled off my wet shoes, and Darlene rummaged through bags. She retrieved two large quilt tops her mother had made from fabric she’d used to sew dresses for Darlene and her sister. Darlene asked how to turn the tops into quilts.

I explained how to align batting and backing in a three layer quilt sandwich. Then she should stitch in a pattern to quilt. Darlene frowned and said she couldn’t do that.

So I suggested she make a prayer quilt. “Line the top with a flannel sheet. Say a prayer while tying a square knot every corner the fabrics meet. You can do that.”

Darlene didn’t say no.

Instead, she set out her best china on her mother’s crocheted place mats for our leisurely supper. We caught up on each other, families, and memories of Sister Loretta.

Love,

Janet

3-31-19 & 4-1-19

Jennifer’s House in Novelty, Ohio

Hi, Julie.

I lugged 5 bags into my friend Jennifer’s house in Novelty for an overnight visit. She led me to the master bedroom and bath complete with a bathtub the shape of the copper tub Darcy used in the 1995 BBC Pride and Prejudice miniseries.

Next, she took me downstairs and through the stacks of Jane Austen Books to a closet that housed an efficient Tesla Powerwall 2 battery for her solar panel system. Jennifer touched the plastic cover of the slim rectangular prism, that stood a little higher than her waist. Spence and I’d investigated batteries 2 years ago. A bulky, inefficient battery was installed in a wire cage to prevent accidents. Technology had changed!

Back upstairs, we fetched laptops―mine from one of the bags―and sank into her soft sofa. I clicked a mouse, she tapped her screen, and we studied graphs.

Jennifer said the kid who’d installed the panels got up on a ladder and wiped snow off them so he could show her how the website works. Her site records each panel’s production, the amount the battery charged and discharged, and how much electricity flowed to and from the grid. Unlike the Wells Wood system, she didn’t turn switches. The battery controls the electric flow. Of our two websites, one reports the whole array’s production. The other calculates kilograms of carbon dioxide we offset. Her 45 panels could produce 70-some kWh a day. Our 30 peak in the low 50s. Comparing systems was like comparing LED lights to candles.

The next morning, I overslept. Not enough time to luxuriate in the Darcy bathtub. I took a shower in the glass stall. And, before hurrying to breakfast, I removed the camera from one of my bags to photograph the Darcy tub.

Love,

Janet

4-1-19

Jane Austen Books in Novelty, Ohio

Hi, Joyce.

Since I can’t drive to Cleveland and back in one day anymore, Jennifer invited me to stay overnight at her house. Her gracious offer made me feel as humble and appreciative as Jane’s character Mr. Collins would have felt. So I offered to help in her store.

Jane Austen Books is in Jennifer’s basement. Austen’s books are shelved first then others are arranged alphabetically by author. Antique books are in a glass case. Walking through was a treat. Everything caught my eye―books, DVDs, postcards, puzzles, coloring books, journals, and a rack of T-shirts for the 2020 JASNA AGM in Cleveland.

The task Jennifer picked for us was updating her website―inserting photos of book covers. We started with British History and moved to Women’s History.

Jennifer searched for titles without photos.

I fetched the books.

She scanned the covers and inserted photos.

I returned the books. Sellar’s 1066 And All, O’Clery’s Queens, Queens, Queens, Puckler-Muskau’s Puckler’s Progress, Raverat’s Period Piece, and many more.

Sometimes I had trouble. A few books were out of place. When I couldn’t find them, Jennifer did. Often the books were on the bottom shelf. I plopped onto my bottom, squinted at authors’ names, then stood again. Great exercise. And every time I passed the t-shirts, I gazed at their lavender, aqua, blue, and pink colors. Tempted, I told Jennifer I would buy a blue one. She said she’d give it to me my work.

Work? Running fingers over leather bindings, admiring beautiful illustrations, and peeking into special books? Helping was pure pleasure―not work.

Love,

Janet