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Archive for the ‘Misty British Isles’ Category

I have stories yet untold. I suppose I wasn’t sure if they were mine to tell. But some stories deserve to be told, and some people deserve to have their story told, though they cannot tell it themselves . . .

In the far north of Scotland is a castle. A small, elegant, brownish-pink castle–a stone’s throw from the sea, yet bordered by attractive gardens, with sheep-grazed pastures and woodlands beyond. It is called the Castle of Mey, and belonged to the late Queen Mother. Not the Queen who passed away one year agone, but her mother, HM Elizabeth The Queen Mother. She purchased the ramshackle castle in 1952, and set about restoring both castle and grounds. It became her summer home (with another visit every October). Here, she enjoyed the natural beauties of Scotland, and here she entertained guests. I couldn’t tell you much about those guests–apart from one. About one couple’s visits to The Castle of Mey, I know quite a lot. I know, because they told me themselves.

The minister of The Church of Scotland Parish of Canisbay and Keiss, the region of Scotland called Caithness where the castle is situated, was for a time one Reverend Alex Muir, MA BD. To you, just a name, to me a thousand memories–most of which occurred at a modest house in the small Scottish city of Inverness. Again, just a house, just number 14, to me so much more. Alex (retired from the ministry by this time) and his wife, Catriona, were members of our church. They were acquaintances who became, in a matter of no time at all, close friends. Me, a young American, still smitten with Scotland, still lonely from time-to-time, still prone to say the outlandish things that Americans tend to say while on foreign soil. John, a Scot, but not known in the “highlands and islands,” and with much to occupy him in his new position at work. We two just a young couple, trying to find our way in the world.

An afternoon at “number 14” – Alex & Catriona are far right

We were invited for lunch one Sunday–a Sunday that became the first of many–and what a delight to be in the home of new friends. I remember the sunny dining room with a view of Catriona’s colorful garden. I remember the blue, yellow, and green budgies, chirping and flitting about their large cage. I remember the black and white photo of Alex and The Queen Mother, hung on the wall. The story behind that photo came to me in stages over the next few years, on visits to number 14. Oh, I loved to be there, amid the old books, and photographs, and cassette tapes–all the ideas, and stories, and melodies, wrapped up inside. Oh, I loved the smell of Catriona’s fluffy scones just out of the oven. Oh, I loved to chat with their boys (all round about my and John’s age) and to hear the stories Alex would tell. Oh, I loved the love in that place.

Alex, a teacher before his years as minister, was a true Encyclopedia of Scottish history and literature. I remember lending him my CD of Lorena McKennit’s musical rendition of The Lady of Shallot. I rather think that could Alex have been transported to The Eagle and Child Pub in Oxford during the 1940s, he would have joined in with the discussions of C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and the other Inklings without any effort at all. One day, he presented to me his copy of Mrs. Browning’s Poetical Works, saying that the poet’s hair rather reminded him of mine. But I digress . . .

Literature was not, however, the foremost thing on Alex’s mind. The Scottish Christian revivals of the 19th century–which had transformed so many lives and communities–and church music were the things he spoke about with the most passion. He was a great admirer of American hymnwriter Ira Sankey, composer of Just as I Am, Have Thine Own Way Lord, I Surrender all, and many others. Alex was also an amateur composer and lyricist himself–one who had attracted the notice of The Queen Mother, and in time, The Queen herself . . .

During his years as minister in Caithness, Alex and Catriona (as the parish minister and his wife) were invited to dine at The Castle of Mey on multiple occasions. They came to know and hold great respect for The Queen Mother, and Alex felt quite convinced of her sincere faith in the Lord. One time, she requested a tour of their home, the Manse. Catriona dutifully and I am sure graciously consented. She later told me that when The Queen Mother glimpsed her oldest son’s room, plastered with posters of footballers and movie stars, that she remarked, “All these precious things.” Catriona declared that The Queen Mother always knew just what to say.

The photo from the dining room wall – Alex accompanying The Queen Mother outside Canisbay Kirk

On learning that Alex was musical, The Queen Mother asked him to bring along his guitar on his visits to the castle. He played Scottish ballads, folk music, and his own compositions. There’s a story about her making a request for “The Jeely Piece Song.” It would have been at the castle that The Queen, on one of her visits to her mother, would have first met Alex and Catriona and heard him play. It’s all rather like a Scottish fairytale, castle and all, but the story doesn’t end there . . . The Queen apparently so loved Alex’s beautiful, haunting melody, “Bays of Harris,” that she selected it to be played at her funeral, should she pass from this life while in Scotland–which she did. My heart swelled as I watched the talented Karen Matheson sing the words of Psalm 118 in Gaelic to Alex’s melody. How I wished Alex had been there to see his melody performed for The Queen one last time! Bays of Harris was also used at the funeral of former parliament member Winnie Ewing, in Inverness Cathedral. It was sung there by another famous Gaelic singer, Julie Fowlis.

Alex went to his own Heavenly Castle in 2010, and Catriona followed ten years later. I think of them often. A piece of my heart went to Heaven when they left. But oh, so glorious to know their lives–and Alex’s music–are yet reaching hearts and inspiring lives. I wondered what had inspired The Queen to choose Psalm 118. She was very particular in all she said and did. Every Christmas, The Queen gave a Christmas speech, and without fail, every year she spoke about the Savior. Wise and thoughtful woman that she was, she would have known that her funeral was her last chance to “give a speech,” her last chance to address the world. Years before she passed, she carefully chose every word–from hymns to Bible texts–that would be part of her final day. Could it have been verses eight and nine that she wanted to impress upon the hearts of all who were listening that day?

It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in man.

It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in princes

-Psalm 118:8-9

It’s been twenty years now since The Queen Mother passed, a year since The Queen herself–I have confidence that she, Alex, and Catriona are now reunited in their glorious bodies–but their legacies live on. And so will the legacies of Alex & Catriona, for all who knew them, and for all who are touched by Alex’s music–today, and for generations to come.

Bays of Harris, Psalm 118, sung by Karen Matheson, former singer with the group Capercaillie, at St Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh for the Queen’s funeral (sadly, credit was given to the man who arranged the melody instead of to the composer, Alex)

Psalm 63 sung by Clare Ross to Bays of Harris. Clare recorded this piece with Alex in the 1980s. You will hear English at the end.

God Has Given Us a Dream – Hymn and melody by The Reverend Alex Muir, MA BD, sung by singer and filmmaker, Matthew Todd of Fellowship Film


Avonlea xo

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Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking Inspiration from Literature  ♥

PS Enjoy the story behind the writing of Bays of Harris, including an interview with Alex, below ⤵

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For you created my inmost being;

    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

    your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

-Psalm 139:13-14

After nine long years, I find myself here once again. This place that was so dear to me as home. So inspiring to all my senses, and aspirations, and heart. I hardly want to sleep (though I am). Hardly want to miss a second of all this sweet Scottish air (oh, how purple the heather on the hills just now!). Don’t want to miss a minute with the sweetest of friends who will be, through eternity, lodged in my heart.

Our first weekend we went to Inverness to stay with friends from our former church. First a play at the park with my sweetest friend Mhairi and her boys–oh, what fun to have Scottish children to show them all the best climbing trees and hiding spots! Then at Maureen and Alasdair’s, where there’s endless snacks for the children to keep up their strength, and endless cups of tea, and her beautiful garden where the boys picked raspberries, and her husband’s workshop where he helped them make wooden porridge stirrers, and all the talk of things big and small that we managed to cram in-between. I tried to soak, soak, soak up all the love and goodness and wisdom I have always felt from their presence.

And at Rona’s, the stunning views over the highlands toward Loch Ness, and the mouth-watering Indian food she prepared, and the kids laughing with her son over a game, and realizing how similar a path we tread from different corners of the earth, and the talk of grace that seasoned it all.

Seeing these precious faces again, I thought maybe my heart would burst. Burst because of the loving so very much, or burst because of the having to say goodbye. It seems unthinkable that it’s been nine long years since I last saw them or last breathed the sweet highland air. Unthinkable that in three weeks I will once again have to say goodbye. That their life will go on, and so will mine, and who knows when we’ll meet again. The only thing that keeps it all from being too much is thoughts of eternity . . . One day, one day, we will all be together. And all those lattes, and cups of tea, and cakes, and misty mountains, and faces of friends, well, they will just not stop. Death will be dead and so will goodbyes.

Why would I want anything else? Why would I want to be anyone else but what God has made me? Why I would I want any other end than the one He has prepared for me? The thought that God not only created us with foresight, purpose, and detail but also continues with us throughout our lives with the same love, wisdom, and attention to detail is utterly mind-numbing. He made those friends. He made me. He brought us into each other’s lives, and He will carry each of us through until we are all reunited in the end. “But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (I Corinthians 15:57).

“Dear Lord, thank you for the sweet friends in Christ you have blessed my life with. Thank you for making each of us with care. And thank you that you will carry each of us till the end–till we are forever with each other and you. Amen.”

Avonlea xo

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Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking Inspiration from Literature ❤

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For those of you who don’t follow me on social media, you may not have heard that The House on Cherry Street now has audio and ebook (Kindle and other) versions available. The audiobook is narrated by the beautiful Scottish voice of voice actress, Angela Ness. Perfect for road trips and work or school commutes!

Book description –

Forbidden Love in a time of war. The house that kept the secret for generations… until someone comes looking for the truth.

Michigan, 1941 – Grace, daughter of a wealthy furniture baron, can have anything she wants—except her one true love.

Scotland, 2014 – Charlotte has big plans for her summer–when a surprise letter from America changes everything . . .

Grace – Grace’s life is dictated by society and her father’s wishes, right down to the man she’ll marry. So when she falls for Georg, she must keep their love secret–all while keeping up the pretense of going steady with another man. As America is forced into WWII, Grace must fight for all she holds dear. Who is following her and Georg? Grace’s intended, or someone with more sinister plans? Grace thinks she knows who’s to blame, but as events unfold, she realizes all was not as it seemed . . .

Charlotte – When an out-of-the-blue plane ticket to America arrives, Charlotte decides to use it, even if this means putting wedding planning and the purchase of her dream bed and breakfast on hold. But her trip becomes a solitary stay in a crumbling mansion and a puzzle at every turn. Thankfully, her life back in Scotland is falling nicely into place—or is it? Meanwhile, missing documents leave her confounded. Will the house give up its secrets at last?

🍒 Shop here

A LITTLE NEWS!

In less than a month, we leave for Scotland for a month-long visit! Stay connected on FB/IG/MeWe for photos, videos, and the whole scoop! My Instagram was lost, sadly. If you’re an Instagrammer, reconnect with me on happy.little.sigh here

Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking inspiration from Literature ❤

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I almost didn’t see him.

Nearly passed right by those handsome features, noble mien, and that shock of dark hair falling becomingly over his forehead.

You’d think I’d have been on the lookout. Kept my eyes peeled wide open.

I was in his house, after all.

Pemberley. Or, em, Chatsworth, which is what the place is really called. Chatsworth, not Pemberley, though it’s quite the grandest house in all of Derbyshire, and most certainly the place Jane Austen had in mind for this favourite literary hero, if the experts have it right.

Yes, there I was, at Pemberley, and I nearly missed my chance to meet Mr. Darcy because I had my eyes on the gift shop. The gift shop. Coasters and tea towels, and things like that.

But John called my name, and I swung round

and there he was.

Just waiting.

He even posed for a picture.

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But that’s not the real Mr. Darcy!” you may be muttering, or even shouting at the screen.

Well, I was at the other Mr. Darcy’s house too (Lyme Hall in Cheshire)! BBC fans, you may now breathe a sigh of relief.

Only there, I didn’t see him.

Though I did see this fair prospect . . .

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I laugh a little now.

I almost didn’t see Mr. Darcy!

And oh, doesn’t it seem just a world away.

Not only that we’re in America and can’t just pop down to England to see Elizabeth and Darcy and all our other favourites like we did when we lived in Scotland.

But even having time to think about it all. To dream.

Finding time to put two of my own thoughts together seems like a luxury these days, what with all the loving I’m blessed to pour out on my three precious little men and their daddy.

The making of tea and the making of beds. The raiding of the kitchen and the cleaning it up. The folding and folding and folding of laundry, and the trying to find the time to put it away. The potty accidents to clean up, the littlest one to pick up, and the trying to look above and through it all to find just what gifts there are in today.

But it’s worth it, I’d say.

Worth taking time for stories.

Worth taking time to be still and (with a cup of tea!) examine and consider the finer, the truly beautiful and good.

And it’s worth, most of all, taking time to be with Him.

To be with Jesus.

How many times do I race through my day with my eyes on the gift shop? On running my errands, making my phone calls, and leaving my house at least as clean as it was that morning?

But how would it be if I took more time to look for treasures along the way?

To realize there is someone far nobler, realer, and more beautiful than even Mr. Darcy?

Someone who’s not just waiting, but knocking.

Knocking at my door, knocking on my heart,

and not just to pause for a picture,

but to spend the day with me.

JEREMIAH 29:13

You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart.

 

Avonlea x

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Homemaking Inspiration from Literature ❤

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AileenDonan5

It all began with a cup of tea.

He wanted one.

And so did I.

We were the only ones.

Earlier, on that cold walk through the night to the student flat where a group of us were meeting for a DVD, there were questions about peanut butter (isn’t that what Americans eat?), and secret smiles, and I thought he must be very young.

I was in Scotland.

The world was green, and there were castles, and though I could hardly understand a word of what he said, my red-haired Scottish loon from the village on the sea,

on the pages of my journal I swore I could marry that boy.

And, more to my amazement than anyone else’s, I did.

We moved to Scotland, and life began.

It began. It didn’t end.

Not like the movies or the books, where it ends with “I do.”

No, that was the beginning.

And I went to teaching and he went to working. And meals were cooked, and floors were swept, and a baby came. And although it happened, every few months, that I’d pinch myself and wonder how little me ever ended up there, in the Highlands of Scotland, most of the time it was just life.

And while life was happening, it also happened—as it happens to us all, I think—that somewhere between the tenth time washing the dishes and the hundredth time making the bed, between the hundredth night up with a crying baby and the thousandth time wiping a toddler’s face, that I began to wonder.

I wondered if this was right.

Because this was not how happily ever after was supposed to go.

Castles and Scottish mist aside, I wasn’t supposed to be tired all of the time, and the housework wasn’t supposed to take so long. I wasn’t supposed to get lonely, and we weren’t, no we weren’t supposed find within our hearts such moments of hate that with our words and our eyes and a turning of our backs we would wound each other. Leave each other bruised, starved, and with our very hands widen the cavern between ourselves and God and between each other.

And yet we did.

And the days were dark.

We could have walked, either one of us, in search of our real life. Our real fairy tale. And though we didn’t feel it, we chose to believe it when we heard that the grass is always greener where you water it.

And even yellow grass, or even brown and dry, can become green. But you’ve got to water it every day.

Even when it’s the last thing you want to do.

And you can try to be happy with it just being all right, or so-so, but I’ve got to ask you, like I asked myself, don’t you want the very best?

AileenDonan AileenDonan3

More than anything, I love to talk of those first days.

The first dance. The first giggle. The first time I dared to touch his shoulder with my head.

Because I know I must remember who he is. Who he really is, deep inside—that boy I first met.

We’re the same people, he and I, deep, deep inside.

Oh, sometimes we’re both still so angry, we’d like to do a whole lot more than spit. And it takes a whole lot more than a little grace to make it through.

But love is not self-seeking.

And real love gets a little less sleep, a little less time for what we want, a little less of what we most love to eat, to make the other person happy. To give them joy. To make them strong.

Never underestimate the power of a smile. The power of a kind word.

Like water to grass, they are spring rain to the soul.

AileenDonan2-001

No, life doesn’t end with “I do.” That is where it begins.

For you and your Mr. Darcy.

For me and mine.

Avonlea x

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Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking Inspiration from Literature ❤

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“Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.”
~ C.S. Lewis

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Usually it was fish and chips that they offered to bring. Crispy battered haddock and thick-cut fries doused with vinegar and a sprinkling of salt, picked up from the Chippy on their way over.

I’d start to tidy, but would remind myself not to worry too much. Just a quick wipe of the bathrooms, and a fresh hand towel (one of my personal hospitality must-do’s) would suffice.

There wasn’t much point in frantically scooping Lego into toy bins or straightening out the sofa cushions. Our friends did, after all, have three little boys who’d be joining our two (at that time), and I knew I could expect the five of them to make quick work of emptying the wicker toy basket and turning the sofa into a pirate ship.

After the ketchup-soaked fish and chip papers had been cleared away and the children were in the other room hard at play, the adults would gather round the dining room table, within ear shot of the littles in case someone got a bump, or there was a lesson on sharing that needed to be learned.

There’d be coffee then, or tea, and some little nibbles, and the stresses of life would dissipate as we talked and shared, the fire crackling at our backs. They’d stay past bedtime, but we didn’t mind.

They were our last-minute friends. The spontaneous ones. And we loved it.

We loved it, and it went both ways.

I remember phoning once, on our way home from a day of picnicking and wading in the rock pools of St Andrews. And we were invited to “tea” (the evening meal in many parts of Scotland).

There were probably toys everywhere. Crumbs on the floor.  Some sprinkles on the toilet seat. But I don’t remember.

I remember the lamb chops smothered in curry paste, the homemade sweet potato chips sprinkled with salt and hot pepper seeds. I remember Mary’s smile. I remember there was cake.

Later on, Mary and I nursed cups of milky tea beside the patio doors while the men took the children into the cool autumn air to play on the trampoline. Two tired mamas, we talked, we laughed, we shared our hearts so that the other knew how to pray. We felt stronger. We knew love.

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You see, a mama doesn’t mind it. Not one little bit.

Doesn’t mind balancing her cup of tea as she picks her way over the minefield of toys to make her way to your couch.

Doesn’t mind grabbing a wad of toilet roll to wipe sprinkles from your toilet seat.

Has selective vision when it comes to the pile of dishes in your sink.

She didn’t come to inspect your house. She didn’t come to give you extra work.

She came for the friendship. The laughter.

She came to see you.

Friendship and laughter bring sanity. Clarity. Helps us see that most of the chaos is normal, and we’re not the only ones going through it all.

God made us that way. To bear one another’s burdens. To celebrate together.

And I have to remind myself of this often–

that my desire is to bless, not impress. 

That laughter is made brighter, tears are made lighter when there’s cake.

Cake, and of course, a hot cup of tea.

And so even if you are a tired mama, don’t let this stop you from letting others into your house, especially if they are a tired mama, too.

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Read If You Know A Tired Mama (how to love her) Part 1 & Part 2

Avonlea x

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Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking Inspiration from Literature ❤

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Six fingernails. Only six. That’s how many I had time to cut that day, into short, blunt squares. The other four were left long and ladylike for a few days longer, until I noticed, and remembered that I’d been interrupted, called away from my task to see to the needs of one of my wee men.

And that’s how life’s been since the arrival of Little Bear, my fourth son. A sprinkle of time here, a sprinkle there, and not much more, for all the little extra things I love.

Those non-essentials that relax me and that I really enjoy, but that somehow don’t seem as pressing as cleaning up the raspberries someone smashed all over the kitchen floor, or icing a bleeding lip, or stopping someone from over-cuddling the baby.

Those non-essentials

like exfoliating with Dead Sea salt scrub.

Or watching a new version of Jane Eyre.

Or reading my Bible.

You know, extra, non-essential things like that.

And where can I possibly fit them into to my hectic life, when there isn’t even time for the essentials?

Like sleeping.

Or taking a trip to the bathroom.

Or drinking enough water.

How can I possibly find the time?

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Four months, we’ve been back from our visit to Scotland. Four months, which is the same length of time we spent back there. And I meant to keep you abreast of it all, every visit, every city, every castle that we saw.

But the arrival of Little Bear, and traversing up and down the country, and the jumble that went on inside my own head made it difficult. But there are things, there are moments, I remember. And I’ll tell them, I’ll tell them to you, if you’ll stay with me and you’ll wait.

Because they’re worth the telling.

Like what I spotted in the new mud room at my friend Katie’s.

When we lived in Scotland I’d set aside time nearly every week to visit with Katie and a few other treasured friends at one or other of our houses.  And they were sanity for me, those times, as I sat across from their smiling faces, corralling crumbs from my oat biscuit into a pile on the table top while I sipped my tea and we talked about life—children, husbands, our walk with God.

And I was there again at Katie’s house this winter. Sat at her table. Heard her laugh. Sipped my milky tea.

And yes, saw the new mudroom, with its tidy place for Wellington boots, jackets, mittens, and hats. And it was all quite something, but it wasn’t that which made me smile. Pause.

In a corner beneath a window, where the sun could lay a beam of light, sat a chair. A chair, and a little shelf in the wall just the size for a Bible, and a picture frame on the wall with this:

For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness;  and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love.  For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. 

2 Peter 1:5-8

A place made in her home just for this. Just for reading God’s word, and speaking and listening to Him.

A place for making every effort.

Not a casual squeezing it in every few weeks when there’s a sprinkle of time, but a place. A purposeful seeking after Him. Every effort.

Because reading my Bible, knowing God, is not a non-essential after all. Not if I want to be like Christ.  Not if I want to be for my family a refreshing stream, instead of the dried up desert that I so often feel.

His delight is in the law of the Lord,
And in His law he meditates day and night.
He will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water,
Which yields its fruit in its season
And its leaf does not wither;
And in whatever he does, he prospers.

Psalm 1:2-3

I don’t have time aplenty. Not the luxurious hours to read and ponder that I once did. But if I’m to make the most of the time with my family, if I’m to help lead them in the everlasting way, then I must find the time to be in God’s Word, and find even a simple line of truth and goodness on which to meditate throughout my busy day.

Finding time will be a challenge. But my soul is dry, and I feel it. I feel it, and it shows. I feel it, and it’s worse, even, than only six short fingernails.

Make every effort.

I’ll start today.

How do you make time to be in the word? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Avonlea x

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Happy Little Sigh

Homemaking Inspiration from Literature ❤

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To open a book is to step into another world. We book lovers know that! Oh, but what if there was a way to make that journey more real, more immersive? To engage all your senses, making it almost possible to believe you’re really with Anne Shirley that first night at Green Gables? Or really on a dark London street watching Sherlock Holmes solve a crime?

I have a secret–it’s called Ambience Videos or ASMR, which stands for autonomous sensory meridian response, and is described as a feeling of well-being combined with a tingling sensation in the scalp and down the back of the neck. The appropriate reaction to a good book! *happy little sigh.*

What if there was a way to make that journey into a book even more real?

I’ve selected Ambience Videos to immerse you into 12 Classic novels. Simply tap below links to play on your laptop or cast to your TV to create the perfect mood for each book and delight your eyes and ears. Next, brew a cup of tea or coffee to delight your taste and smell (which drink or cup would suit each book?). Finally, get a cozy blanket and get ready to step into your book in a whole new way! OR simply use as a peaceful background during your morning quiet time or as you go about your day.

*Note – some videos include soothing music, while others have relaxing sounds such as rain, a crackling fireplace, or murmured voices. I included two videos for each novel, so choose the one that inspires you. Adjust the volume to add to your reading experience, not distract from it.

1. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen – Who’s coming to visit? Could it be Bingley and Darcy? And what secrets are Bennet sisters Lizzie and Jane sharing as they get ready for the day?

  • Bennet Family Lounge (Pride and Prejudice) by Overarch
  • Sunny Morning Bedroom (18th Century Georgian/Colonial) by Ambience of Yesteryear

2. The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien – Will you stay at Bilbo’s cozy hobbit hole, or venture into the Shire?

  • Hobbit Study Session by ASMR Weekly 
  • 6 Hours The Shire ASMR by ASMR

3. Middlemarch by George Elliot – Does Casaubon’s library inspire you, or does the dreariness of pouring over manuscripts alongside Dorothea make you long for a visit to her sister’s country estate?

  • Relaxing Library – Relaxing Rain, Thunder and Crackling Fireplace by Cozy Moments  
  • English Estate Morning Tea by Scenic Inspirations

4. The Complete Father Brown Mysteries by G.K. Chesterton – What mysteries will you solve alongside this eccentric sleuth as he pokes around his quaint English village (occasionally stopping for tea), or hops aboard a train in search of clues?

  • Edwardian Parlour with Tea & Fireplace by Ambience of Yesteryear
  • 1940s Train Journey by Overarch

5. Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery – Can you hear Anne (with an ‘e’) poor herself a cup of tea in her peaceful bedroom at Green Gables? She will need it, in preparation for her upcoming exam at Queen’s!

  • 3D ASMR Anne of green gables | Anne’s Bedroom by ASMR Movely
  • 3D ASMR Anne of Green Gables | Queen’s Entrance Exam by ASMR Movely

6. Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle – Would you prefer sipping tea in 221B Baker Street, or joining Sherlock on the streets of London as he masterfully works to solve the latest crime?

  • Ambience/ASMR: Sherlock Holmes Parlor, 221B Baker Street by Ambience of Yesteryear
  • Victorian London Thunderstorm by Autumn Cozy

7. The Last of the Mohicans by James Fenimore Cooper – The peace of the wilderness is calling your name–or perhaps you fancy a venture into the Colonial town?

  • Smoky Mountains Morning by Travel Ambience
  • Colonial New York City Federal Hall by P&E Soundscapes

8. Great Expectations by Charles Dickens – Begin reading with a trip to the English wetlands, where Pip spent his youth, then move on to the bustling streets of London.

  • English Wetlands by Ambience World
  • 19th Century London by Overarch

9. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott – Rain lashes down outside the March home, but inside, Jo is busy scribbling away on her latest novel.

  • Thunderstorm in the Lake District by Outdoor Therapy
  • Thunderstorm and Rain by Dreamy Sound

10. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte – Jane doesn’t know what to expect as the carriage takes her through the night to Thornfield Hall, but it’s not long before she enjoys conversations with Mr. Rochester in his study.

  • Riding a Carriage by TERAVIBE
  • Rain and Thunderstorm Sounds by Guild of Ambience

11. The Mayor of Casterbridge by Thomas Hardy – Would you prefer strolling the winding lanes of Casterbridge or sitting beside the fire, listening in as Michael Henchard tells his life’s tale?

  • Cozy Country Village by Dragonfly Mage
  • 19th Century Cottage by Ambience of Yesteryear

12. White Fang by Jack London – Whether journeying through the wilderness with the dogsled team, or finding solace at Weeton Scott’s cabin, it’s sure to be an adventure!

  • Wolf Forest by Michael Ghelfi
  • Cozy Cabin Porch Ambience by The Alley of Ambience

*BONUS! Which book could be read using this 1930s library ambience? It’s one of my favorites.

Avonlea x

Find me on . . .

Instagram/Facebook/MeWe @happylittlesigh

Happy Little Sigh

Finding beauty in the everyday ❤

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What is about a story that makes it a classic? And what is it about Jane Eyre, in particular, that has helped it stand the test of time, and inspire so many theater productions, film adaptations, and spin-offs? I know what I love about it–Jane’s character, for starters. She’s so mistreated, yet stays true to herself and her beliefs, even in the most tragic of circumstances, and is rewarded so wonderfully in the end. Then there’s Jane’s time both at Thornfield Hall and with the Rivers family, with such beautiful surroundings, and time for reading, painting, and longs walks. But let’s not forget the excitement of the gothic influence on the story, and the less-than-serene moments that put us on edge. But what do YOU love about Jane Eyre? And which of the following color adaptations is your favorite?

Jane Eyre 1970 – Susannah York & George C. Scott (1 hr 50 min)

This adaptation brings us our only blonde Jane! The actress who plays the young Jane did an excellent job. And I like the spirit Susannah York brings to grown-up Jane, despite the 70’s vibe of her appearance (Let’s call her Big Hair Jane), and the fact she looks closer to 28 than 18. Rochester, too, looks much older than his supposed 38 years. But he also brings passion and emotion to the role that make it come to life (though with a bit more growling than necessary). We get the scene where Jane collapses on the moors, but don’t see St. John (pronounced “Sinjin”) Rivers carrying her home (I like that scene). St. John himself speaks in an aloof, cold manner, and something about him unsettles me, but I like the scenes with his sisters. Some of the scenery around the Rivers’ home and Thornfield Hall is beautiful, though the film quality isn’t great. The colors are too saturated in some scenes and too dark in others. BUT a big plus for this version is the music score by John Williams, who is known for composing the scores for Schindler’s List, Jurassic Park, E.T., and others. Though this is the earliest color version I know of, I enjoyed it more than some of the later adaptations.


Jane Eyre 1973 – Sorcha Cusack & Michael Jayston (4 hr 35 min)

This version stars Sorcha Cusack, who you might recognize as housekeeper Mrs. McCarthy from the Father Brown detective series! She has a very cute, expressive face, which shows a lot of what Jane was feeling inside, and I thought she did very well with the part. I had a harder time warming up to Michael Jayston as Rochester (is that eyeshadow he’s wearing?!), who speaks in a very clipped, upper-class sounding voice, but that could just be me. The cinematography leaves something to be desired, the only music is at the beginning and end of each episode, and the many voiceovers take away from the acting. BUT it is a much more faithful version, and includes a lot more exact dialogue and details from the book than other adaptations, which is always fun to see on screen. And with over FOUR hours of watching time, it’s the perfect version if you’re bedridden or need company when you have a big project to work on!


Jane Eyre 1983 – Zilah Clarke & Timothy Dalton (3 hr 59 min)

While watching this adaptation I couldn’t forget that this Mr. Rochester went on to be a future James Bond! Timothy Dalton does superbly with this part–dark and brooding and full of emotion. And Zilah Clarke is perfect as Jane–small and doll-like but with fierce inner passion and strength. St. John Rivers stood out to me in this version–he looks precisely as I pictured him from the description in the book, with his “Grecian profile,” although the actor portrays the character as a cold, judgmental religious fanatic without any love for the people he would help with his missionary work. With its longer length, you get a lot more details, scenes, and characters from the novel than the shorter versions–such as Jane’s wanderings through both town and countryside before finally collapsing on the moor (can you tell I like this scene?). In fact, this version is probably truest to the book. If you haven’t seen it yet, I’d say give it a try!


Jane Eyre 1996 – Charlotte Gainsbourg & William Hurt (1 hr 56 mins)

Young Jane (Anna Paquin) and housekeeper Mrs. Fairfax (Jane Plowright, Tea with Mussolini, Enchanted April) are the real stars of this adaptation. Although he’s not on screen, Italian director Franco Zeffirelli (Romeo and Juliet 1968, Tea with Mussolini) brings another star to the film. While I found some of the other Mr. Rochesters too blustery and angry, William Hurt’s take on the character seems too placid and uninteresting. Charlotte Gainsbourg did well as Jane (although she’s too tall!), but would have been better opposite another male lead. The music and scenery are an improvement from previous versions, as is Jane’s attire. With its shorter length, many scenes from the novel are missing, as expected. But the plot also veers off completely at times, such as Jane first meeting St. John Rivers at Gateshead when she goes to see her dying aunt, instead of him discovering her on the moors. And as soon as Jane leaves after discovering Mr. Rochester is married, Thornfield is already on fire! Overall, most of the story is captured in the adaptation. But with many details that add depth and breadth to the story missing, and with the mis-portrayal of Mr. Rochester, the film is not as good as it might have been.


Jane Eyre 1997 – Ciaran Hinds & Samantha Morton (1 hr 48 mins)

This was the first version of Jane Eyre I ever saw (anyone else?) Samantha Morton has the right “Jane-ish” look, and Ciaran Hinds fits the Rochester profile, too. But I found her a bit too mechanical at times, while Hinds comes across as too shouty and angry (as he is in a lot of roles), and I couldn’t help but find it hard to believe that Jane would actually fall in love with him. This is the first version where St. John Rivers, played by Rupert Penry-Jones, seems like a real contestant for Jane’s love (we DO get the wonderful scene where he finds Jane on moors and carries her home–Love!). And if you didn’t know, both Penry-Jones and Hinds play Captain Wentworth in Jane Austen’s Persuasion in the 2007 and 1995 versions, respectively. So I suppose Jane had a choice between Wentworth and Wentworth! I liked Gemma Jones as Mrs. Fairfax, but found the girl who played Adele too old for the part. Also, because of time constraints, this version left out a lot. But it’s still worth watching, even if just for comparison, for all the familiar faces, and because there’s always something to like about a version of Jane Eyre!


Jane Eyre 2006 – Ruth Wilson & Toby Stevens (3 hr 50 mins)

Cinematography had come along way by the time this mini-series was made, which alone makes it a more enjoyable watch. There are dreams, flashbacks, hallucinations, and creative camera-angles. The music score is good, and the scenery and settings are stunning. But I also think that both Ruth Wilson and Toby Stevens brought so much to their roles. Wilson both looks the part of Jane, and brings Jane’s uncertainty, humility, and passion to life. Stevens is a wonderful mixture of brooding, fear, and playfulness, and it’s easy to see what draws Jane to him. I loved the conversations between them, in which they discuss their pasts, or issues of morality, and you can sense their growing attachment to each other. Georgie Henley (from the Narnia films) looked just the part as Wilson’s younger Jane self, and I really liked Lorraine Ashbourne’s portrayal of Mrs. Fairfax. We have the scene where Jane gets lost on the moors (yay!), and a good portrayal of St. John, although he didn’t quite look the part. I appreciated how this version had the time to portray many of the details of Jane’s inheritance and discovery of her relationship with the Rivers. I also think the ending of this adaptation is the very best! But if you want a more accurate representation of the book, you might not like that this version adapted some of the dialogue for modern ears, and took creative licenses in telling the tale.


Jane Eyre 2011 – Mia Wasikowska & Michael Fassbender (2 hrs)

This adaptation boasts more beautiful music, cinematography, costumes, and settings. But similar to the 2019 adaptation of Little Women, the film starts later in the story, which can be confusing if you aren’t familiar with the book. This version begins with Jane running away from Thornfield Hall (a gorgeously filmed scene), and then moves back and forth between the past and the present to tell the story. Mia Wasikowska looks just the part of the reserved Jane, and you can sense the fire behind her eyes. But I would have liked to see more of that passion escape, especially during certain scenes. We only get glimpses of smiles and few real tears. In parts, she seems plain depressed. I would have loved to see real laughter, or the occasional raised voice, and all those emotions we know are trapped inside–especially during the proposal scene. Likewise, though Fassbender shows plenty of moodiness and pent-up frustration, we don’t see much of a playful, teasing side, or any lighter interactions between him and Jane. Judy Dench (A Room with a View, Ladies in Lavender) does, of course, steal our attention when she’s on screen as Mrs. Fairfax. But Jamie Bell (Nicholas Nickleby), although he’s a talented actor, didn’t quite make a believable St. John, in my opinion. Going back to Jane and Rochester, the natural chemistry between them wasn’t what it could have been. But this beautiful film is definitely worth watching, if you’re a Jane fan or not.


SO . . . which of these Jane Eyre adaptations is YOUR favorite? Have you seen them all? If not, which one above will you be running to watch next? I’d love to hear!

Avonlea x

Find me on . . .

Instagram/Facebook/MeWe @happylittlesigh

Happy Little Sigh

Finding beauty in the everyday ❤

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Quarantine and stay-at-home is these four walls, and this same view. It is little more in terms of location than a trip to the supermarket every two weeks, or a stroll around the block for some exercise. And so holidays, and visits, and adventures must be had by way of video chats, movies, and books. But what if it could be more? What if you could spend your quarantined time not just reading, but living in the pages of a book and being its heroine for a while? If you could do just that, to which if these five period classics would you escape for a month?

1. Jane Eyre – You’d have a large room to yourself, complete with four-poster bed and a view of the gardens in a beautiful, but slightly spooky English manor house. Your mornings would be spent studying French, Geography, and Flora & Fauna with Adele, Mr. Rochester’s ward. Your afternoons would be spent painting, or wandering the moors and gardens of Thornfield Hall. In the evenings, you could have long talks with Mr. Rochester, or chat with the housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax. It would be a quiet escape to a beautiful place with some good company, but you’d have do endure the occasional eerie noises outside your door at night.Jane Eyre

 

2. Little Women – You’d share a cozy room with your sisters, complete with a fireplace, lots of quilts and books, and a view of your quaint New England village. Your mornings would be spent taking food to the needy, or reading to your Great Aunt Josephine. Your afternoons would be spent having walks in the woods with your charming but incorrigible neighbor, Laurie. In the evenings, you could do some playacting in the attic with your sisters, or stay up late into the night writing by candlelight. This would be an escape full of lovely people and lovely ideas, but you might occasionally find yourself a little bored and longing for more adventure. littlewomen199413

 

3. Anne of Green Gables – You’d have a bedroom to yourself, complete with iron bed, washstand, and a view of green farmland. You’d spend your mornings at the small island school, where you’d learn to spell C-h-r-y-s-a-n-t-h-e-m-u-m, and would have to endure teasing by Gilbert Blythe. You’d spend your afternoons strolling along the shore beneath the lighthouse with Diana Berry, or holding tea parties, or reenacting poems like “The Lady of Shallot.” You could spend your evenings sitting by the fire chatting with Matthew and Marilla, or reading books. This would be happy escape to a cozy community, but you might grow tired of the taunting from Josie Pye, and with the ugly dresses Marilla makes you wear. green gables house

 

4. Pride & Prejudice – You’d have to share a bedroom in your large family home in England with your sister Jane, complete with beautiful furnishings and a view of your family’s small park. Your mornings would be spent reading, or listening to your sisters squabble. Your afternoons would be spent walking in the garden picking flowers, or visiting your friend Charlotte Lucas. In the evenings you could attend balls and gatherings, where you’d get the chance to mingle with many different people, including Mr. Darcy. This escape would present a good mixture of peaceful and exciting moments, but you might not like having to be polite to Mr. Whickam, or putting up with withering looks from Mr. Bingley’s sisters. pride and prejudice dance

 

5. Little House on the Prairie – You’d share a room with your sister in your family’s simple pioneer home with a view of the rolling prairie. You’d spend your mornings doing chores like churning butter, collecting eggs, and kneading bread. Your afternoons would be spent exploring outside with your sisters, or taking a trip to town in the wagon with Pa. In the evenings, you could listen to Pa tell stories or play folk songs on his fiddle, or sit outside by the fire and look at the stars. You’d learn a lot of practical skills in this escape, and have a happy, wholesome time, but you might feel like you need a vacation from all the hard work when you get back. prairie-e1510179053375-1-850x510

So, which would you choose? Share your pick below, or share on Facebook or Instagram and see how your friends would vote!

Avonlea x

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Happy Little Sigh

Finding beauty in the everyday 

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