Today my mamma and I went to visit the Hales, a pecksy-wecksy family from down South. I must say, I'm rather appalled at the state of their home and living. I could sum up millions of things, but, to start with, they did not have a piano. Imagine, Diary - if you can imagine, for I doubt that you can - to have a life without a piano! I know I could not live without a piano. I am a very musical young lady, with outstanding talent - people say so, you know - and life without a piano seems to me horrendous, appalling and absolutely miserable. That, I suppose, proves that I'm extremely musical, does it not?
Anyhow, I was quite appalled to see they didn't own a piano. I told them so, but their faces remained listless and uninterested. Oh dear me! I was quite appalled.
Their parlour is about half the size of our hall! Imagine living in such a cramped way, day after day! Oh, that coincidentally rhymed! I am quite giddy. I'm always giddy when I accidently rhyme.
Margaret Hale, the daughter of the family is such a stick-in-the-mud! She hardly spoke a civil word and did not know anything about Paris and the latest fashions. She was insipid and dull, whilst I was cheerful and bubbly. She has it after her mother, who is pretty much the same, only even worse. My poor mother tried hard to converse with her, and I could feel her agony when Mrs Hale just kept silent. How do they manage to be so uncivilized! I am quite appalled!
And the biscuits they offered us, diary, the biscuits. From far off they looked rather pleasant, and I was gingerly looking forward to a little afternoon treat. But, diary, as the plateau with the biscuits neared my poor nose, I could smell that they were badly cooked and smelled as if they were rather out of date! I refused as politely as I could, gesturing lady-likely with my hands. I do not mean to be impertinent, but the biscuits looked positively horrible from nearby. I was quite appalled!
But of course, I am determined to remain civil and treat the Hales like neighbours, just as a civilized lady such as myself should do.
Is their any particular Period Drama/Literature person you'd like me (Naomi, not Fanny:) to write a 'dear diary' entry from?