I have been waiting to post this for a long time, as it relates to Christmas. (Was it really a month ago?) By the way, I have added to some text to yesterday’s Brexit posts.
This evening is also Imbolc, the Celtic Festival to Brigantia and St. Bridget of Kildare. Candlemas tomorrow.
This is a letter from Mary Musgrove in Persuasion (Chapter 18). This is Jane Austen’s most mature and probably the best novel,. Here the moany Mary Musgrove writes a typically FOMO letter which illustrates how Christmas, for the well, off really continued to February 1st and Candlemas.
February 1st
“My dear Anne,–I make no apology for my silence because I know how little people think of letters in such a place as Bath. You must be a great deal too happy to care for Uppercross, which, as you well know, affords little to write about. We have had a very dull Christmas; Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove have not had one dinner party all the holidays. I do not reckon the Hayters as anybody.
The holidays, however, are over at last: I believe no children ever had such long ones. I am sure I had not. The house was cleared yesterday, except of the little Harvilles; but you will be surprised to hear they have never gone home. Mrs. Harville must be an odd mother to part with them so long. I do not understand it. They are not at all nice children, in my opinion; but Mrs. Musgrove seems to like them quite as well, if not better, than her grandchildren.
What dreadful weather we have had! It may not be felt in Bath, with your nice pavements; but in the country it is of some consequence. I have not had a creature call on me since the second week in January, except Charles Hayter, who had been calling much oftener than was welcome.
Between ourselves, I think it a great pity Henrietta did not remain at Lyme as long as Louisa; it would have kept her a little out of his way. The carriage is gone to-day, to bring Louisa and the Harvilles to-morrow. We are not asked to dine with them, however, till the day after, Mrs. Musgrove is so afraid of her being fatigued by the journey, which is not very likely, considering the care that will be taken of her; and it would be much more convenient to me to dine there to-morrow.
I am glad you find Mr. Elliot so agreeable, and wish I could be acquainted with him too; but I have my usual luck: I am always out of the way when any thing desirable is going on; always the last of my family to be noticed. What an immense time Mrs. Clay has been staying with Elizabeth! Does she never mean to go away? But perhaps if she were to leave the room vacant, we might not be invited. Let me know what you think of this. I do not expect my children to be asked, you know. I can leave them at the Great House very well, for a month or six weeks.
I have this moment heard that the Crofts are going to Bath almost immediately; they think the Admiral gouty. Charles heard it quite by chance; they have not had the civility to give me any notice, or of offering to take anything. I do not think they improve at all as neighbours. We see nothing of them, and this is really an instance of gross inattention.
Charles joins me in love, and everything proper.
Yours affectionately,.”
It is my paragraphing rather than the original. The mystery of the book is how such a lovely, considerate, able daughter like Anne, can be from the same family as both her awful sisters, and her monstrous, egotistical father.