Wednesday 23 September
I wore a nice dress today to school. It's one of my London dresses that I got this summer. It's just a dress, you know, in cotton/rayon with short sleeves and soft skirts falling to just at my fingertips, which is what is called 'a good length' --you know, not too short and not too long. I didn't wear a slip under it (it's lined) and so it felt very cool on such a hot day. Of course going up stairs I kept to the wall side. I usually do in a skirt or dress anyway. This is one benefit of when women wore floor-length skirts-- like my Colonial outfit for reenactments or the ice-cream shop, and you all know what I have said about when I wear that one.
Anyway I got many nice compliments. I will wear an actual dress maybe three days of a school year. More often I wear a skirt, you know. Of about 450 girls in this school, on any given day maybe 40 of them will be wearing skirts, and less than 4 of them will be wearing dresses. The rest wear jeans or trainers (US: 'sweatpants'). I try to get a little dressed-up at least once a week, often twice, but with having PE second period it's awkward, you know. Today girls in the cabana (US: 'locker room') had nice things to say about the dress. The colour is not me at all-- a deep, violet-indigo that's almost sensually suggestive. [giggle] I really do love it, even if I'd rather not be known that way... and I was pretty pleased with the attention if I absolutely must admit that.
Then, of course, it was hot today... so you know what that means. I drove us to school and we were to bring Josie home with us. She and Jessy were making up cute little dares all the way home for when we got there-- like, 'I dare you to jump in backwards.' --or, 'I dare you to jump in with your clothes on.' --till finally I said, 'I'll race you both to the pool.'
Jessy giggled. 'Oo, don't dare me to beat you, because I'll get in like this.'
Josie teased her. 'Surrrrre you will!'
At the house I got out of the car and then took my time, since I had to lock up the car, get my school stuff, and prancing up to the front door, and both of them were impatient. But it was only to make sure we all started at the same time, you know. 'Last one into the pool is a slug,' I said, and suddenly we had dropt all our stuff on the floor and were desperately peeling off clothes on the way out to the French windows.
I was actually able to leave the dress draped carefully over a chair and kicked off the shoes before Jessy got out of her jeans. So I wasn't last! Josie was first, dashing straight into the pool and landing mid-stride in the water. We laughed ourselves silly-- she looked like a cartoon scene. Jessy was struggling with the back of her bra when I dove in, leaving my arms and legs a little too wide apart just to savour the sensation of immersing myself so immediately. That pool felt great.
Of course being so close to the ocean (yes, about 40 yards from the back-bay channel) our pool is always a little brackish. Daddy says you just have to give up on this one. A little saline doesn't hurt anything and in fact he backs off a little on the chlorine unless it's really hot and sunny, when the salt content attracts bacteria. Today it was just about right-- and we would not have complained anyway.
Mother and J.J. got home with Lisa, who came out straight away. 'How did I know you guys would be in there!' she teased, standing beside the pool and stripping off. We all giggled at her-- she loves being the centre of attention, especially our attention. In some ways she is like an honourary teenager!
Then Mother came out with J.J. and put him in his water-wings. Last summer Jessy and I taught Lisa to swim the length of the 12-1/2-metre pool and now, 6 years old, she will do laps on her own. J.J. is 3 and of course less reliable in the water, but we were all happy to push him round in the inflatable thing. He had a good time and did not complain that all three of his sisters, and their friend, were all naked. Of course he never is-- he thinks it's for girls only, which, for now, is fine with us.
Mother lay on a chaise in her shorts and sleeveless top and read in Angela's Ashes, which was one of Jessy's summer-reading selections. As part of our rowdy games in the pool we all got out at one time or another and I ended up lying on a cushion on the terrace for what may have been up to half an hour straight. We all played with Lisa and J.J. till well after tea, when Jessy and Josie went up to her room, to FaceBook to their hearts' content, no doubt. As of right now they are lying on their stomachs and elbows side-by-side on Jessy's bed with two laptops in front of them and the fingers clicking away... almost as fast as mine are right now.
I wish it could always be like this... but a front is expected this week and then we will have autumn. [sigh]
...
Showing posts with label ocean. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ocean. Show all posts
25 September 2009
03 August 2009
Janine's final faux pas
Monday 3 August 2009
This morning Jessy and I were on the beach, just having a nice long walk as a kind of farewell to the whole place, you know. I had on my blue-and-white-and-grey-print swimsuit, which is kind of new, and Jessy had the deep purple/maroon-coloured one, a beautifully rich colour that really looks good on her figure and suntan. We walked up about three jetties and turned round to come back. The place was utterly crowded, people everywhere, skimboarding, boogie-boarding, rafting, swimming, diving, running, jumping, and always the squealing, giggling, laughing, shrieking that makes a public beach at a popular resort town what it really is. You don't go here to be alone, and you don't go here to be anonymous.
We were almost back to the house and had begun thinking about turning up into the softer sand when we noticed a man standing directly ahead of us, turned towards the water but with his head turned to stare straight at us. I guess it is not unusual to expect that some middle-aged guy would stare at two chicks in bikinis at the beach. I mean really-- it happens all the time, you know, and I know I don't have to be an absolute goddess to get this kind of attention. It just happens. It's what Daddy calls 'sexual discrimination'-- that a member of one sex can discriminate between the sexes and recognise a member of the other sex. It'd be a pretty barren world if he didn't!
So this guy was staring straight at us like he recognised us, and not just as a pair of female bodies, you know. I was on Jessy's right, closer to the house, and right before I started to step up into the soft sand the guy put out his hand, waving to us. I hesitated-- I wouldn't be rude, you know. Was this some friend of Daddy's who knew us?
'Hello!' he called, when we were about five yards away. At that point there was no escaping this. We slowed down and had almost stopped and the guy turned to us and said, 'It's really you, then, isn't it?'
'What?' we both said together.
He smiled at us, me especially. 'Janine, right?'
I went red. How would he know--?
'And you must be Jessy. I see what you meant, Janine. She is beautiful. But you're no less-- in spite of whatever you say. You don't disappoint, that's for sure.'
And he was checking me out then-- head to toe and back again. I frowned. 'I'm sorry--'
Then he made this frighteningly smug smile. 'Janine, it's R---.' And he gave his name. He's one of the guys I have been chatting with on AOL.
I suppose this was inevitable. I mean, I put enough information out there that anyone could find me if he just thought about it hard enough. It's because I'm not really hiding. But neither do I expect to be stalked, you know.
'I was by the ice-cream parlour. The other day... they said you weren't scheduled.'
I nodded. 'I'm not.'
'I was hoping to see you in your Colonial costume.'
'Oh,' I said. 'Well, I'm.... We're going home. Today.'
'Ohhh. And I thought we could spend some time, get to know each other at last.'
I swallowed. No, I thought. There are guys I chat with online whom I like a lot-- this was not one of them. In fact this guy is someone I tend to avoid... now I presume I shall have to block him.
'I was standing here, trying to pick out which is your house,' he said, and he turned round and looked up at the houses along the dune line, four to a block. 'I have it narrowed down to... that one, that one, and that one down there. They're three storeys.'
Two of the ones he picked were ours and the one we own next to it, to rent out. I felt terrible. Have I really got so sloppy after all? The one blessing from God was that we were leaving this afternoon. 'Well, R---, I really need to be going-- we have a long ride coming up--'
'So you're going back to Virginia? Is it far? I think you said four hours.'
Great. Will he follow us? Jessy turned and took my hand then. 'Janine,' she said softly, 'let's go.'
I nodded, allowing her to step between R--- and me, tugging me up the beach. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'We're really pressed for time--'
'But you can have a walk on the beach, then?' he said, and then turned and took a few steps after us.
I realised though that he was watching some small children and couldn't easily just leave. That was lucky. 'I'm sorry, R---. Some other time maybe.'
He would still talk at me as I walked away. 'Really, after all this time.... I just kind of thought that--'
But we were gone then. Jessy still held my hand-- in fact now she squeezed it. 'Is he still behind us?' I worried.
'I don't know,' she said, closing her teeth together. 'And I don't care.'
I nodded. 'I'm sorry.' I glanced over my shoulder. The guy was still standing there, staring up the beach at us. Jessy was heading straight for our house. That's all I would need. 'He's still there,' I said.
She clenched my hand more tightly. 'Explanation?'
That was not a request-- it was a demand. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'It's the blog. I just say things, you know. No one's ever got that close--'
'That guy has probably been here all summer waiting to recognise you,' she said. 'He'll know the house now, see your car, everything.'
'We'll we're going to Virginia in about three hours!'
'You'd better not give out that address too.'
'I don't!'
'And pictures?'
I squeezed her hand then. 'Jessy! I have never sent out my picture! You have more people stalking you on FaceBook than I have on AOL!.'
She shrugged. 'Well, that's FaceBook. It's private.'
'Not so private when you let friends of friends of friends be friends.'
She made a wry face. When we were over the dune we ran for the kitchen door, had quick showers in the garage, and ran up stairs to the third floor, where we crouched in the low attic that is Lisa's and J.J.'s room and peered out the little window. Sure enough, we made him out-- he was there, only not looking up at the house. 'We're not going to be able to show our faces round here ever again,' I said.
'We're going to England. And you're going to block him, and then delete all the posts that identify this place.'
'Yes, Jessy.'
I wonder if that means this one now!
...
This morning Jessy and I were on the beach, just having a nice long walk as a kind of farewell to the whole place, you know. I had on my blue-and-white-and-grey-print swimsuit, which is kind of new, and Jessy had the deep purple/maroon-coloured one, a beautifully rich colour that really looks good on her figure and suntan. We walked up about three jetties and turned round to come back. The place was utterly crowded, people everywhere, skimboarding, boogie-boarding, rafting, swimming, diving, running, jumping, and always the squealing, giggling, laughing, shrieking that makes a public beach at a popular resort town what it really is. You don't go here to be alone, and you don't go here to be anonymous.
We were almost back to the house and had begun thinking about turning up into the softer sand when we noticed a man standing directly ahead of us, turned towards the water but with his head turned to stare straight at us. I guess it is not unusual to expect that some middle-aged guy would stare at two chicks in bikinis at the beach. I mean really-- it happens all the time, you know, and I know I don't have to be an absolute goddess to get this kind of attention. It just happens. It's what Daddy calls 'sexual discrimination'-- that a member of one sex can discriminate between the sexes and recognise a member of the other sex. It'd be a pretty barren world if he didn't!
So this guy was staring straight at us like he recognised us, and not just as a pair of female bodies, you know. I was on Jessy's right, closer to the house, and right before I started to step up into the soft sand the guy put out his hand, waving to us. I hesitated-- I wouldn't be rude, you know. Was this some friend of Daddy's who knew us?
'Hello!' he called, when we were about five yards away. At that point there was no escaping this. We slowed down and had almost stopped and the guy turned to us and said, 'It's really you, then, isn't it?'
'What?' we both said together.
He smiled at us, me especially. 'Janine, right?'
I went red. How would he know--?
'And you must be Jessy. I see what you meant, Janine. She is beautiful. But you're no less-- in spite of whatever you say. You don't disappoint, that's for sure.'
And he was checking me out then-- head to toe and back again. I frowned. 'I'm sorry--'
Then he made this frighteningly smug smile. 'Janine, it's R---.' And he gave his name. He's one of the guys I have been chatting with on AOL.
I suppose this was inevitable. I mean, I put enough information out there that anyone could find me if he just thought about it hard enough. It's because I'm not really hiding. But neither do I expect to be stalked, you know.
'I was by the ice-cream parlour. The other day... they said you weren't scheduled.'
I nodded. 'I'm not.'
'I was hoping to see you in your Colonial costume.'
'Oh,' I said. 'Well, I'm.... We're going home. Today.'
'Ohhh. And I thought we could spend some time, get to know each other at last.'
I swallowed. No, I thought. There are guys I chat with online whom I like a lot-- this was not one of them. In fact this guy is someone I tend to avoid... now I presume I shall have to block him.
'I was standing here, trying to pick out which is your house,' he said, and he turned round and looked up at the houses along the dune line, four to a block. 'I have it narrowed down to... that one, that one, and that one down there. They're three storeys.'
Two of the ones he picked were ours and the one we own next to it, to rent out. I felt terrible. Have I really got so sloppy after all? The one blessing from God was that we were leaving this afternoon. 'Well, R---, I really need to be going-- we have a long ride coming up--'
'So you're going back to Virginia? Is it far? I think you said four hours.'
Great. Will he follow us? Jessy turned and took my hand then. 'Janine,' she said softly, 'let's go.'
I nodded, allowing her to step between R--- and me, tugging me up the beach. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'We're really pressed for time--'
'But you can have a walk on the beach, then?' he said, and then turned and took a few steps after us.
I realised though that he was watching some small children and couldn't easily just leave. That was lucky. 'I'm sorry, R---. Some other time maybe.'
He would still talk at me as I walked away. 'Really, after all this time.... I just kind of thought that--'
But we were gone then. Jessy still held my hand-- in fact now she squeezed it. 'Is he still behind us?' I worried.
'I don't know,' she said, closing her teeth together. 'And I don't care.'
I nodded. 'I'm sorry.' I glanced over my shoulder. The guy was still standing there, staring up the beach at us. Jessy was heading straight for our house. That's all I would need. 'He's still there,' I said.
She clenched my hand more tightly. 'Explanation?'
That was not a request-- it was a demand. 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'It's the blog. I just say things, you know. No one's ever got that close--'
'That guy has probably been here all summer waiting to recognise you,' she said. 'He'll know the house now, see your car, everything.'
'We'll we're going to Virginia in about three hours!'
'You'd better not give out that address too.'
'I don't!'
'And pictures?'
I squeezed her hand then. 'Jessy! I have never sent out my picture! You have more people stalking you on FaceBook than I have on AOL!.'
She shrugged. 'Well, that's FaceBook. It's private.'
'Not so private when you let friends of friends of friends be friends.'
She made a wry face. When we were over the dune we ran for the kitchen door, had quick showers in the garage, and ran up stairs to the third floor, where we crouched in the low attic that is Lisa's and J.J.'s room and peered out the little window. Sure enough, we made him out-- he was there, only not looking up at the house. 'We're not going to be able to show our faces round here ever again,' I said.
'We're going to England. And you're going to block him, and then delete all the posts that identify this place.'
'Yes, Jessy.'
I wonder if that means this one now!
...
01 August 2009
Time for a cold shower
Saturday 1 August 2009
I got home from working this morning and-- naturally, and as you might guess-- got undressed straight away. Well-- this is only sensible since I may wear the same clothes when I go in tonight. All our costumes are all natural fibres, which 'breathe' well but also can get somewhat... ripe. I usually change over my shift and stockings from morning to evening... but it's totally 'in period' to wear a gown and bedjacket that might not be so 'fresh', you know... and of course we don't wear makeup and do little with our hair-- no curling, no straightening, no highlights or dye, you know.
When I sat down at the computer the yard-care people were out. They come on Saturdays and are supposed to start at 11 and be done by noon. Of course they work very fast, with their loud whining machines, edging, whacking weeds, clipping bushes and so on. We don't have much here, being on the dune line, but Daddy was very careful to plant scrubby pines and cedar bushes which help hold the sand down. Very few people seem to care about this, making dune erosion such a big deal. (My dad tried to lobby for a reduction in his property taxes based on having so much planted here, saying that 'his' share of the beach maintenance costs, for both these houses-- ours and the rental-- were probably less than some others'. Needless to say they turned this down.)
Someone asked me once if the yard-care guys are good-looking. I don't usually go in for ogling the help. It's low-class. The sad thing is that so many Americans don't understand this concept. Everyone is so 'equal' in the United States that we don't seem to think it's odd for a girl whose father pays labourers to be attracted to one of those sweaty labourers. Maybe having been raised so very English and having gone to school there has altered my way of thinking, and maybe I am just the odd one out then.
All right, there is one cute one... he's about my age, very well-tanned, very well-shaped, with good teeth. I have seen him smile at me before. I said 'Good morning' to him once and then if he happens to see me, like coming back from work in my Colonial costume, he always says hello. I do not know his name though. Part of me wants to make sure I never do.
This morning I happened to look out this window as the noisemaking machines came round this side of the house and he was there. I got very embarrassed and sat back down, away from the window. Of course he would not see me, even if he knew I was up here looking down-- the screen makes the window opaque and it's on the third floor anyway, 18 feet above his head and the yard is only 18 feet wide down there, so he wouldn't have the angle (sorry about relying on trigonometry here) and he wouldn't have been able to see much below my shoulders anyway... but still it is very weird being totally naked in your own room and looking down on the bare back of an ordinarily good-looking young guy, who is known for smiling at you, who is just a decent middle-class guy in excellent health who chooses, to support his university tuition, to labour as a yard-care worker in the summer.
I wonder if I should have a shower now before I go to the beach with Jessy. It would have to be a cool one.
...
I got home from working this morning and-- naturally, and as you might guess-- got undressed straight away. Well-- this is only sensible since I may wear the same clothes when I go in tonight. All our costumes are all natural fibres, which 'breathe' well but also can get somewhat... ripe. I usually change over my shift and stockings from morning to evening... but it's totally 'in period' to wear a gown and bedjacket that might not be so 'fresh', you know... and of course we don't wear makeup and do little with our hair-- no curling, no straightening, no highlights or dye, you know.
When I sat down at the computer the yard-care people were out. They come on Saturdays and are supposed to start at 11 and be done by noon. Of course they work very fast, with their loud whining machines, edging, whacking weeds, clipping bushes and so on. We don't have much here, being on the dune line, but Daddy was very careful to plant scrubby pines and cedar bushes which help hold the sand down. Very few people seem to care about this, making dune erosion such a big deal. (My dad tried to lobby for a reduction in his property taxes based on having so much planted here, saying that 'his' share of the beach maintenance costs, for both these houses-- ours and the rental-- were probably less than some others'. Needless to say they turned this down.)
Someone asked me once if the yard-care guys are good-looking. I don't usually go in for ogling the help. It's low-class. The sad thing is that so many Americans don't understand this concept. Everyone is so 'equal' in the United States that we don't seem to think it's odd for a girl whose father pays labourers to be attracted to one of those sweaty labourers. Maybe having been raised so very English and having gone to school there has altered my way of thinking, and maybe I am just the odd one out then.
All right, there is one cute one... he's about my age, very well-tanned, very well-shaped, with good teeth. I have seen him smile at me before. I said 'Good morning' to him once and then if he happens to see me, like coming back from work in my Colonial costume, he always says hello. I do not know his name though. Part of me wants to make sure I never do.
This morning I happened to look out this window as the noisemaking machines came round this side of the house and he was there. I got very embarrassed and sat back down, away from the window. Of course he would not see me, even if he knew I was up here looking down-- the screen makes the window opaque and it's on the third floor anyway, 18 feet above his head and the yard is only 18 feet wide down there, so he wouldn't have the angle (sorry about relying on trigonometry here) and he wouldn't have been able to see much below my shoulders anyway... but still it is very weird being totally naked in your own room and looking down on the bare back of an ordinarily good-looking young guy, who is known for smiling at you, who is just a decent middle-class guy in excellent health who chooses, to support his university tuition, to labour as a yard-care worker in the summer.
I wonder if I should have a shower now before I go to the beach with Jessy. It would have to be a cool one.
...
When I am doing nothing
Friday 31 July 2009
I got a call at about 9.00 to go in to the shop to cover for one of our servers, so I rushed through getting dressed and got out of the place, in my good yellow-and-cream gown, at like 9.30. One good thing about working in a Colonial-themed place is that you don't have to wear makeup! --in fact you shouldn't! Only actresses and harlots (which in the 18th C were pretty much the same thing) wore face paint., you know.
Whilst I was working Jessy went out 'to lunch' with some of her friends here. Mother came with JJ and Lisa and picked me up in the car. When I got back Jessy had left me a text message inviting me to come along... but when I called her she didn't pick up and I realised they were probably seeing HP6 again down at the Beach. So I came up here, got out of my outfit, and went online.
This constituted most of my afternoon then. The sun has been going in and out of clouds all morning and I hadn't decided if I wanted to get dressed just to lie out and get nothing for it. Besides, I'm tan enough! Lisa came up, as naked as I am, and asked if I was going to the beach. But then Mother called her back down. 'No one's going anywhere till after lunch!'
Lisa rolled her eyes and went back down. I descended most of the way and called down, 'Mother! I'm not hungry, so do I have to eat?'
Then her sweet voice came back, from round the corner in the dining room, 'Not if you don't want to, sweetheart. But no unfair snacks later then!'
'Yes, Mother,' I called, and came back up here.
People were chatting and I was too busy with that to do much writing for myself. Lisa came back and promised to go to the beach with me whenever I wanted to. She was, of course, still naked in the house but suggested we could wear our bandanna bikinis (see blog from yesterday). 'When will you want to?' she asked, standing a foot from my elbow as I typed and rocking side-to-side on her heels as she does.
I reached over and pinched her. 'We'll wait till you've settled your stomach first, okay?'
'Okay!' she said, and went back down.
I went down for a banana later (oh, do not ASK what people online thought of that!) and found Mother sitting out on the deck, in her chaise, reading. She was in her good blue-and-black print bikini and looked absolutely gorgeous... as usual. I should remind you all that 'Mother', my stepmother, is 27. She was our nanny till after Mommy died. Lisa and JJ are hers and Jessy and I are Mommy's. Lisa will be 6 in a week. She is as precocious as any child of Mother's could be expected to be, adorable, fiercely brave, sweet-natured, and absolutely enraptured with Jessy who is almost exactly 10 years older. This afternoon little JJ, who is 3-1/2, was arranging trucks and blocks all over the deck. He's never naked-- he says it is for girls and is probably getting protective over his maleness anyway-- and was in a cute little bikini swimsuit like Daddy wears in the pool. And Lisa was naked, both of them slathered heavily in SPF 60 and playing on our nice big white-painted cedar deck that extends from the front door and the parlour to the dunes. I thought it was charming and cute that the two of them had both Barbies and trucks all over the deck, playing somewhat separately and yet sometimes together in the sun. Daddy strung a 'safety net' under the lower railing mainly to keep dolls and trucks from going overboard. It's green and tends to become opaque in bright sunlight, so Lisa crawling round the deck with JJ was pretty much safe from prying eyes on the street, which gives access to the beach, or from the walkway leading over the dunes that's between our house and the one we rent out next door.
Of course I only peered out the front door (which faces the dune, not the street) from behind the screen door. Mother turned her head and waved back at me. 'I'm not coming out,' I said.
'I should hope not,' she smiled.
'Just wanted to see what you're all doing.'
'They're kind of in the middle of this,' Mother said.
Lisa stood up and padded over to me then. 'Are you coming out to play?'
I smiled. 'Not like I am sweetie!'
She shrugged and then smiled shyly at me. 'Okay,' she said-- recognising that older girls have issues with playing outside naked on a deck visible to the public that younger girls do not. I really believe she would have expected Jessy to join her.
'We'll go for a walk later, okay?'
She nodded and ran right back to the Barbies. I went back up stairs.
Finally round 2.30 I had not heard from Jessy and decided to go out. I put on the pale-blue bandanna bikini, which I had not worn outside yet, and a plain white tanktop and descended to the deck again. 'Are we going out?" Lisa asked, rushing up.
I caught her; her skin was drying and she'd need more SPF 60. 'You need to go up and get your suit,' I said. 'And a top too.'
She ran off for the stairs. 'Can I come too?' JJ asked, rushing up too.
I looked at Mother. 'Do you mind if I take them both? If you want to read....'
'I'll be fine, sweetheart. Go and have fun.'
Lisa brought down the bandanna-bikini, one of the ones Jessy and I made for ourselves that didn't work and got altered for someone smaller, and I sat her on a dining-room chair and tied it up at her hips for her. JJ went to the potty and emerged, and I got them both well coated in sunblock-- as well as myself-- and we descended to the yard and went under the deck to the walkway over the dune. On the beach, which had got hot, we ran down to the water's edge and then wandered off down to the next jetty, about three and a half blocks. We met some people we know, said hello to some new people, got slightly wet-- well, JJ got soaked when he slid in the sand and was overwhelmed by an anklesnapper-- and got some exercise. When I am with our little ones I don't feel a need to be Miss Popular Young Woman In A Swimsuit On The Beach, you know. I feel like a nanny myself sometimes. And I like it. It is really true what Daddy says, that being around children on the beach and in the ocean makes you feel younger. I suppose that is why he has made a lifetime's career about of being youthful and fun and interesting and entertaining!
When we got back Jessy and her friends had come. At once Jessy pointed out to them that I was wearing one of our bandanna-bikini creations. 'That's a bandanna?' her friend Scotia said in amazement.
I giggled, and turned round then. 'Actually it's two,' I said.
'Oh my God!' they all seemed to say at once. 'And you wore that out?'
I shrugged, smiling somewhat proudly now. 'Of course.'
'It was kind of Janine's idea,' Jessy said. 'I have two of them too.'
'And you made that?'
'But it's only cotton!'
'And you wore it to go out?'
They remained amazed. So I have gone from feeling lonely and left-out (and very nearly bored!) to being a role model for girls again. This is the kind of day I like!
...
I got a call at about 9.00 to go in to the shop to cover for one of our servers, so I rushed through getting dressed and got out of the place, in my good yellow-and-cream gown, at like 9.30. One good thing about working in a Colonial-themed place is that you don't have to wear makeup! --in fact you shouldn't! Only actresses and harlots (which in the 18th C were pretty much the same thing) wore face paint., you know.
Whilst I was working Jessy went out 'to lunch' with some of her friends here. Mother came with JJ and Lisa and picked me up in the car. When I got back Jessy had left me a text message inviting me to come along... but when I called her she didn't pick up and I realised they were probably seeing HP6 again down at the Beach. So I came up here, got out of my outfit, and went online.
This constituted most of my afternoon then. The sun has been going in and out of clouds all morning and I hadn't decided if I wanted to get dressed just to lie out and get nothing for it. Besides, I'm tan enough! Lisa came up, as naked as I am, and asked if I was going to the beach. But then Mother called her back down. 'No one's going anywhere till after lunch!'
Lisa rolled her eyes and went back down. I descended most of the way and called down, 'Mother! I'm not hungry, so do I have to eat?'
Then her sweet voice came back, from round the corner in the dining room, 'Not if you don't want to, sweetheart. But no unfair snacks later then!'
'Yes, Mother,' I called, and came back up here.
People were chatting and I was too busy with that to do much writing for myself. Lisa came back and promised to go to the beach with me whenever I wanted to. She was, of course, still naked in the house but suggested we could wear our bandanna bikinis (see blog from yesterday). 'When will you want to?' she asked, standing a foot from my elbow as I typed and rocking side-to-side on her heels as she does.
I reached over and pinched her. 'We'll wait till you've settled your stomach first, okay?'
'Okay!' she said, and went back down.
I went down for a banana later (oh, do not ASK what people online thought of that!) and found Mother sitting out on the deck, in her chaise, reading. She was in her good blue-and-black print bikini and looked absolutely gorgeous... as usual. I should remind you all that 'Mother', my stepmother, is 27. She was our nanny till after Mommy died. Lisa and JJ are hers and Jessy and I are Mommy's. Lisa will be 6 in a week. She is as precocious as any child of Mother's could be expected to be, adorable, fiercely brave, sweet-natured, and absolutely enraptured with Jessy who is almost exactly 10 years older. This afternoon little JJ, who is 3-1/2, was arranging trucks and blocks all over the deck. He's never naked-- he says it is for girls and is probably getting protective over his maleness anyway-- and was in a cute little bikini swimsuit like Daddy wears in the pool. And Lisa was naked, both of them slathered heavily in SPF 60 and playing on our nice big white-painted cedar deck that extends from the front door and the parlour to the dunes. I thought it was charming and cute that the two of them had both Barbies and trucks all over the deck, playing somewhat separately and yet sometimes together in the sun. Daddy strung a 'safety net' under the lower railing mainly to keep dolls and trucks from going overboard. It's green and tends to become opaque in bright sunlight, so Lisa crawling round the deck with JJ was pretty much safe from prying eyes on the street, which gives access to the beach, or from the walkway leading over the dunes that's between our house and the one we rent out next door.
Of course I only peered out the front door (which faces the dune, not the street) from behind the screen door. Mother turned her head and waved back at me. 'I'm not coming out,' I said.
'I should hope not,' she smiled.
'Just wanted to see what you're all doing.'
'They're kind of in the middle of this,' Mother said.
Lisa stood up and padded over to me then. 'Are you coming out to play?'
I smiled. 'Not like I am sweetie!'
She shrugged and then smiled shyly at me. 'Okay,' she said-- recognising that older girls have issues with playing outside naked on a deck visible to the public that younger girls do not. I really believe she would have expected Jessy to join her.
'We'll go for a walk later, okay?'
She nodded and ran right back to the Barbies. I went back up stairs.
Finally round 2.30 I had not heard from Jessy and decided to go out. I put on the pale-blue bandanna bikini, which I had not worn outside yet, and a plain white tanktop and descended to the deck again. 'Are we going out?" Lisa asked, rushing up.
I caught her; her skin was drying and she'd need more SPF 60. 'You need to go up and get your suit,' I said. 'And a top too.'
She ran off for the stairs. 'Can I come too?' JJ asked, rushing up too.
I looked at Mother. 'Do you mind if I take them both? If you want to read....'
'I'll be fine, sweetheart. Go and have fun.'
Lisa brought down the bandanna-bikini, one of the ones Jessy and I made for ourselves that didn't work and got altered for someone smaller, and I sat her on a dining-room chair and tied it up at her hips for her. JJ went to the potty and emerged, and I got them both well coated in sunblock-- as well as myself-- and we descended to the yard and went under the deck to the walkway over the dune. On the beach, which had got hot, we ran down to the water's edge and then wandered off down to the next jetty, about three and a half blocks. We met some people we know, said hello to some new people, got slightly wet-- well, JJ got soaked when he slid in the sand and was overwhelmed by an anklesnapper-- and got some exercise. When I am with our little ones I don't feel a need to be Miss Popular Young Woman In A Swimsuit On The Beach, you know. I feel like a nanny myself sometimes. And I like it. It is really true what Daddy says, that being around children on the beach and in the ocean makes you feel younger. I suppose that is why he has made a lifetime's career about of being youthful and fun and interesting and entertaining!
When we got back Jessy and her friends had come. At once Jessy pointed out to them that I was wearing one of our bandanna-bikini creations. 'That's a bandanna?' her friend Scotia said in amazement.
I giggled, and turned round then. 'Actually it's two,' I said.
'Oh my God!' they all seemed to say at once. 'And you wore that out?'
I shrugged, smiling somewhat proudly now. 'Of course.'
'It was kind of Janine's idea,' Jessy said. 'I have two of them too.'
'And you made that?'
'But it's only cotton!'
'And you wore it to go out?'
They remained amazed. So I have gone from feeling lonely and left-out (and very nearly bored!) to being a role model for girls again. This is the kind of day I like!
...
30 July 2009
The bandanna bikini
Thursday 30 July 2009
Long ago when we lived in Delaware, after Daddy married our nanny, our new mother taught Jessy and I at home as though we were girls of 250 years ago. And so to make it fun we dressed in our Colonial outfits, (even Mother) and sat every morning in the little tea room, read prayers, had lessons in two or three subjects a day (always including reading) and then had tea at 11.00. After that we had homework time and after lunch we went out to play in the yard, or walk the beach, or swim in the pool, or practise our crafts with Mother. And one of the crafts we learned was hand sewing. Mommy had begun to teach us and our nanny too, so when our nanny became our new mother she continued our sewing lessons. We made bonnets and capes and pockets and aprons as well as several sizes' worth of Colonial dresses-- and we still do make them and as a result I have six full outfits, most of which I wear to work Mommy's Colonial-themed ice-cream shop, and we still attend reenactment events when we can (even England, like last year).
Jessy and I were always encouraged to experiment and try new things, in art, music, and crafts. A few summers ago Jessy had the bizarre idea of making a swimsuit. She chose an old blue bedsheet, made pretty good patterns from a bikini she already owned, cut it out, hemmed it, did beautiful work really, and then one summer's day she bravely pranced out of the sewing room in her very pretty bedsheet bikini. The halter top tied in back and behind her neck and the bottom tied in knots at her hips. It was actually bvery cute and fit her surprisngly well.
I was somewhat envious and quickly set to work on my own. Jessy's sheet was a Martha Stewart one from K-Mart that was part polyester, but I used an old and rather well-worn white percale sheet (actually from my bed). And instead of making lace and sewing it to the corners to tie it, I just twisted the corners of the leftover fabric and managed to tie them at my back and at my hips. It was very cute and we were all impressed-- all of us except Mother who raised her eyebrows and made a sly smirk that I still remember. Then Jessy, who had already gone swimming in hers, prodded me to test it. Of course we went into the pool before trying it out at the beach-- it was much safer, and you can imagine why it mattered. Jessy was only 11 then-- she turned 12 later that summer. But I was 13-1/2. And there is a BIG difference between a girl almost 12 wearing a swimsuit she made out of a piece of dark-blue cotton-blend and a girl of 13-1/2 wearing one she made out of a well-bleached, well-worn all white cotton bedsheet. Let us just say that once I stood up, and Jessy and I had a look at how I looked in it dripping wet, it was the last time I would wear it in front of my parents!
One of the several things we learned that day (besides the value of garment LINING!) was that it's fun to make our own things. We've since made plenty of our own clothes, though not much in the way of swimwear intended for a public beach. Recently Jessy has been collecting colourful cotton bandannas and this past week we each had an opportunity sit down at the sewing machine and put some of them together. First Jessy made a skirt-- it's very '60s really, all bandannas, all the same size but of different colours and patterns, turned on edge, creased once, and sewn on an angle so that it flares out off her hips. She also made a very cute bikini top out of two of them sewn together which she wears just tied (snugly!) round herself. She has the figure for that, you know.
I don't have a figure that would tolerate anything like that, but I started a bikini bottom out of two bandannas that really made Jessy envious this time. We experimented some more, tearing stitches out a few times to redo and get it right. One I went so far as to finish before finding it was much too low-cut (it would not reach enough to tie!) so I altered it for little Lisa who absolutely loves it. But we did get it right and now we each have two. I will probably make at least another one soon.
It's very simple really. You bring two 20" square cotton bandannas (use a print that's opaque!) together at one point. Lay the point of the one that will be the back over the one that will be the front, then slide it up till you have enough doubled fabric to serve as a lining. I prefer to cut off the point itself and then fold in what will be the leg openings, front and back, till the crutch is about three inches wide (as much or as little as you dare-- this works for me). I fold them each on a little angle so that near the top of the front and from about halfway up my bottom they are not folded under any more but just one layer of fabric. You don't use elastic so it's really crucial that you get the fit right. As it turns out the front is always a little lower and therefore narrower than the back. If you get this wrong it looks terrible (the one that became Lisa's was like this). Sew the straight seam across what will be the bottom and then the leg openings, which you can along the sides. We each have double-stitched these.
When this is together you just sit on it on your bed, bring up the front and back start rolling from the point inwards to your body, neatly and tightly till you can pull it closely about yourself, and then tie them at your hips. (The first few times I stuck a paperclip on the rolled-up front so I could then do the back.) You might need to try it several times till you arrive at how you like to wear it. If you can't get it to tie right or fit right after three or four tries you probably have the two bandannas lapped incorrectly-- the front too far up or the back too far down. Actually when mine fit right there is quite a lot of material rolled up and it actually makes it very comfortable.
Of course if you make it like this, it doesn't matter what size you are. A 20"-square cotton bandanna, like the ones at Dollar Tree, where we got them, when folded in half diagonally has a sine/cosine of 28 inches. That's each half, front and back. If you can't tie it round yourself having over 55 inches to reach round your hips, maybe you shouldn't be wearing a bandanna bikini!
Jessy's first one is made of two identical bandannas in that very common East Indian print on baby-blue. Her second one is made of two in the same watercolour pattern but of varying colours. Both mine are in the East Indian print, one dull brick-red in back and yellow in front and one in navy-blue in back and the same baby-blue as Jessy's in front. The one I gave to Lisa is pink and pale green (her two favourite colours anyway... see how that works?). Jessy is making one for Mother now too-- of course Mother is only 27 and has a beautiful bikini body as well. She admitted the other night she had tried making a handkerchief bikini at about the same age I was when I made my first failed attempt out of a white bedsheet-- though the handkerchiefs were a linen blend (dry-clean only! --ha!) she learned the same lesson about translucency when wet-- and that's why she looked at me sceptically before I had tried out mine in the pool!
I wore the brick-red-and-yellow one to the beach today, along with a plain swimsuit top in the same medium grey as the print on the bandannas. It was very comfortable to lie out in and I went down to stand with Lisa (in hers too) by the water as well. Two ladies asked where I'd got it. Most everyone else seemed to like it too.
(But no, I did NOT go into the water in it!)
...
Long ago when we lived in Delaware, after Daddy married our nanny, our new mother taught Jessy and I at home as though we were girls of 250 years ago. And so to make it fun we dressed in our Colonial outfits, (even Mother) and sat every morning in the little tea room, read prayers, had lessons in two or three subjects a day (always including reading) and then had tea at 11.00. After that we had homework time and after lunch we went out to play in the yard, or walk the beach, or swim in the pool, or practise our crafts with Mother. And one of the crafts we learned was hand sewing. Mommy had begun to teach us and our nanny too, so when our nanny became our new mother she continued our sewing lessons. We made bonnets and capes and pockets and aprons as well as several sizes' worth of Colonial dresses-- and we still do make them and as a result I have six full outfits, most of which I wear to work Mommy's Colonial-themed ice-cream shop, and we still attend reenactment events when we can (even England, like last year).
Jessy and I were always encouraged to experiment and try new things, in art, music, and crafts. A few summers ago Jessy had the bizarre idea of making a swimsuit. She chose an old blue bedsheet, made pretty good patterns from a bikini she already owned, cut it out, hemmed it, did beautiful work really, and then one summer's day she bravely pranced out of the sewing room in her very pretty bedsheet bikini. The halter top tied in back and behind her neck and the bottom tied in knots at her hips. It was actually bvery cute and fit her surprisngly well.
I was somewhat envious and quickly set to work on my own. Jessy's sheet was a Martha Stewart one from K-Mart that was part polyester, but I used an old and rather well-worn white percale sheet (actually from my bed). And instead of making lace and sewing it to the corners to tie it, I just twisted the corners of the leftover fabric and managed to tie them at my back and at my hips. It was very cute and we were all impressed-- all of us except Mother who raised her eyebrows and made a sly smirk that I still remember. Then Jessy, who had already gone swimming in hers, prodded me to test it. Of course we went into the pool before trying it out at the beach-- it was much safer, and you can imagine why it mattered. Jessy was only 11 then-- she turned 12 later that summer. But I was 13-1/2. And there is a BIG difference between a girl almost 12 wearing a swimsuit she made out of a piece of dark-blue cotton-blend and a girl of 13-1/2 wearing one she made out of a well-bleached, well-worn all white cotton bedsheet. Let us just say that once I stood up, and Jessy and I had a look at how I looked in it dripping wet, it was the last time I would wear it in front of my parents!
One of the several things we learned that day (besides the value of garment LINING!) was that it's fun to make our own things. We've since made plenty of our own clothes, though not much in the way of swimwear intended for a public beach. Recently Jessy has been collecting colourful cotton bandannas and this past week we each had an opportunity sit down at the sewing machine and put some of them together. First Jessy made a skirt-- it's very '60s really, all bandannas, all the same size but of different colours and patterns, turned on edge, creased once, and sewn on an angle so that it flares out off her hips. She also made a very cute bikini top out of two of them sewn together which she wears just tied (snugly!) round herself. She has the figure for that, you know.
I don't have a figure that would tolerate anything like that, but I started a bikini bottom out of two bandannas that really made Jessy envious this time. We experimented some more, tearing stitches out a few times to redo and get it right. One I went so far as to finish before finding it was much too low-cut (it would not reach enough to tie!) so I altered it for little Lisa who absolutely loves it. But we did get it right and now we each have two. I will probably make at least another one soon.
It's very simple really. You bring two 20" square cotton bandannas (use a print that's opaque!) together at one point. Lay the point of the one that will be the back over the one that will be the front, then slide it up till you have enough doubled fabric to serve as a lining. I prefer to cut off the point itself and then fold in what will be the leg openings, front and back, till the crutch is about three inches wide (as much or as little as you dare-- this works for me). I fold them each on a little angle so that near the top of the front and from about halfway up my bottom they are not folded under any more but just one layer of fabric. You don't use elastic so it's really crucial that you get the fit right. As it turns out the front is always a little lower and therefore narrower than the back. If you get this wrong it looks terrible (the one that became Lisa's was like this). Sew the straight seam across what will be the bottom and then the leg openings, which you can along the sides. We each have double-stitched these.
When this is together you just sit on it on your bed, bring up the front and back start rolling from the point inwards to your body, neatly and tightly till you can pull it closely about yourself, and then tie them at your hips. (The first few times I stuck a paperclip on the rolled-up front so I could then do the back.) You might need to try it several times till you arrive at how you like to wear it. If you can't get it to tie right or fit right after three or four tries you probably have the two bandannas lapped incorrectly-- the front too far up or the back too far down. Actually when mine fit right there is quite a lot of material rolled up and it actually makes it very comfortable.
Of course if you make it like this, it doesn't matter what size you are. A 20"-square cotton bandanna, like the ones at Dollar Tree, where we got them, when folded in half diagonally has a sine/cosine of 28 inches. That's each half, front and back. If you can't tie it round yourself having over 55 inches to reach round your hips, maybe you shouldn't be wearing a bandanna bikini!
Jessy's first one is made of two identical bandannas in that very common East Indian print on baby-blue. Her second one is made of two in the same watercolour pattern but of varying colours. Both mine are in the East Indian print, one dull brick-red in back and yellow in front and one in navy-blue in back and the same baby-blue as Jessy's in front. The one I gave to Lisa is pink and pale green (her two favourite colours anyway... see how that works?). Jessy is making one for Mother now too-- of course Mother is only 27 and has a beautiful bikini body as well. She admitted the other night she had tried making a handkerchief bikini at about the same age I was when I made my first failed attempt out of a white bedsheet-- though the handkerchiefs were a linen blend (dry-clean only! --ha!) she learned the same lesson about translucency when wet-- and that's why she looked at me sceptically before I had tried out mine in the pool!
I wore the brick-red-and-yellow one to the beach today, along with a plain swimsuit top in the same medium grey as the print on the bandannas. It was very comfortable to lie out in and I went down to stand with Lisa (in hers too) by the water as well. Two ladies asked where I'd got it. Most everyone else seemed to like it too.
(But no, I did NOT go into the water in it!)
...
26 July 2009
The mother of all thunderstorms
Sunday 26 July 2009-- NJ shore
The mother of all thunderstorms is about to descend upon us. I sit here in my little attic room, facing west-- away from the ocean-- with scarcely a breeze to move the sweat on my skin. The weather has come round to the Northeast-- it's the side this house is exposed to least. I worked this morning and after the beach I had a shower, so I was clean about an hour ago, but in this intense humidity and stillness that's of little help now. Jessy has been a good angel, playing with J.J. and Lisa since Mother and Daddy went out to dinner. They've been gone a while, so they've gone somewhere else too. This is Sunday evening so the traffic coming back up from Beach Haven will be a nightmare. They probably elected to stay down there, doing shopping or something, till later, which is wise. It's not like we don't have it under control here.
She made them a microwave pizza and they've been sitting down watching 'Mulan' in the TV room, Last I went down, for more iced tea, little J.J. was sitting at his small table surrounded by Transformers half acting out scenes of the movie with them. Lisa was stretched out on the carpet, stark naked, against her fluffy floor pillow, like a miniature princess. This is Jessy's influence-- I always say so. Jessy loves being pampered, even if she has to pamper herself. She's a bit frustrated still having to be in panties till tomorrow, but you can tell what she'd be wearing if she could be and she's such a good-natured little angel that it's hardly a hassle to her really.
I am clear now and haven't put anything on after the shower. I went round down there checking windows-- an odd thing to do with no clothes on! --but Jessy had them all closed and the draperies drawn on the beach side. It's because of the storm. Peering out I saw sand blowing round. The beach is entirely empty and the sky is gone threateningly dark. I will be glad for this storm because it should cool us off after two extremely hot days... but it is scary to see in its early stages and the little ones were upset with the sight of it.
Thunder rolls hard out at sea. The whole house rumbles with it. If we lose power the AirPort will still work, as will the security system and that whole computer network, but the little ones will lose the TV in the TV room as the generator doesn't carry all the outlets here. I was thinking of having something to eat but won't risk it till I know it's passed. I wonder why Mother has not called yet-- I wonder if they do not see this storm as it looks up here. They may only be in the restaurant. Jessy and I were to go to a party tonight but it sure looks like it won't be on. I wouldn't go there and linger round a hot sweaty house with too many idiots drinking too much for anything in the world.
Mother rang Jessy-- I have had the news of it. They just got to the car and will come up the Island directly. Daddy took her out in the old Buick-- the '65 convertible. It's funny-- in those wide bucket seats they sit about three feet apart! Petite Mother looks like a little girl! But the hood is new and they won't have leaks (like in the other one) though they have no AC in that car and will be sweating rivulets when the arrive! Jessy and I will put the little ones into the bath (one at a time now, for Lisa will not share with her brother any more) and cool them off. Mother will have a good long soak in her own. Daddy will check all the windows and phone half the people he knows out of worry-- it's what he does. I will stay up in my room naked and sweating. And chat online if I can.
...
The mother of all thunderstorms is about to descend upon us. I sit here in my little attic room, facing west-- away from the ocean-- with scarcely a breeze to move the sweat on my skin. The weather has come round to the Northeast-- it's the side this house is exposed to least. I worked this morning and after the beach I had a shower, so I was clean about an hour ago, but in this intense humidity and stillness that's of little help now. Jessy has been a good angel, playing with J.J. and Lisa since Mother and Daddy went out to dinner. They've been gone a while, so they've gone somewhere else too. This is Sunday evening so the traffic coming back up from Beach Haven will be a nightmare. They probably elected to stay down there, doing shopping or something, till later, which is wise. It's not like we don't have it under control here.
She made them a microwave pizza and they've been sitting down watching 'Mulan' in the TV room, Last I went down, for more iced tea, little J.J. was sitting at his small table surrounded by Transformers half acting out scenes of the movie with them. Lisa was stretched out on the carpet, stark naked, against her fluffy floor pillow, like a miniature princess. This is Jessy's influence-- I always say so. Jessy loves being pampered, even if she has to pamper herself. She's a bit frustrated still having to be in panties till tomorrow, but you can tell what she'd be wearing if she could be and she's such a good-natured little angel that it's hardly a hassle to her really.
I am clear now and haven't put anything on after the shower. I went round down there checking windows-- an odd thing to do with no clothes on! --but Jessy had them all closed and the draperies drawn on the beach side. It's because of the storm. Peering out I saw sand blowing round. The beach is entirely empty and the sky is gone threateningly dark. I will be glad for this storm because it should cool us off after two extremely hot days... but it is scary to see in its early stages and the little ones were upset with the sight of it.
Thunder rolls hard out at sea. The whole house rumbles with it. If we lose power the AirPort will still work, as will the security system and that whole computer network, but the little ones will lose the TV in the TV room as the generator doesn't carry all the outlets here. I was thinking of having something to eat but won't risk it till I know it's passed. I wonder why Mother has not called yet-- I wonder if they do not see this storm as it looks up here. They may only be in the restaurant. Jessy and I were to go to a party tonight but it sure looks like it won't be on. I wouldn't go there and linger round a hot sweaty house with too many idiots drinking too much for anything in the world.
Mother rang Jessy-- I have had the news of it. They just got to the car and will come up the Island directly. Daddy took her out in the old Buick-- the '65 convertible. It's funny-- in those wide bucket seats they sit about three feet apart! Petite Mother looks like a little girl! But the hood is new and they won't have leaks (like in the other one) though they have no AC in that car and will be sweating rivulets when the arrive! Jessy and I will put the little ones into the bath (one at a time now, for Lisa will not share with her brother any more) and cool them off. Mother will have a good long soak in her own. Daddy will check all the windows and phone half the people he knows out of worry-- it's what he does. I will stay up in my room naked and sweating. And chat online if I can.
...
15 July 2009
Full house
Tuesday & Wednesday, 14-15 July
Jessy, Josie and I left the castle early in the morning, went over and collected Becky, and got up to the Landing (house at Lewes) in time for lunch. Mother had a nice sandwich platter waiting, of which we girls ate pigs' shares. Well-- I am never much for breakfast and we had got nothing more than a bagel or so before we'd left. We had a nice visit and got to show Becky and Josie round our childhood home, including Mommy's cherished formal flower garden out back, newly rejuvenated by Mother (and a bit of paid help). They were especially touched to see Mommy's memorial stone, just a little statuette of an angel on top of the small square marble tablet lying over where her ashes rest. I was glad to be there at Lewes again-- I have not been there in some months. But I do not need Mommy's beloved house ot her gardens or the actual sight of her memorial tablet to remember her, you know.
We caught a ferry at 3.40 for Cape May. Neither Josie nor Becky had ever been on it. This is how provincial some of the people we have met in the Eastern Shore are. The ferry is a fun ride and Cape May is always a nice stop just for a day-- yet none of them have ever ventured two hours north to even see it. For them it is only a dotted line on a map. Jessy and I indulged them and we all went to the forwardmost gate and pretended to lean out like that scene in 'Titanic'. At least we did till we were scolded for it. Then we went up to the deck and leaned out over the railing there, which is more permissible. Needless to say those two dozen photos will make it on to three or four FaceBook sites shortly!
We did not stay for supper in Cape May but drove up directly to the Island and got settled in at the beach house. Jessy and Josie got the idea to stay in the little attic room, the one on the ocean side, where Lisa and J.J. usually sleep, and that might have been sensible. But in the end we all ended up sleeping all over our own room, the one on the western end of the house-- and when I say 'all over' I mean ALL OVER, for after a long game of 'Apples to Apples' we fell asleep where we were, mostly on the floor, though Becky was half up on top of my bed and when I woke up I found Josie curled up on her side with my foot under her pillow. The place was atrociously sweaty. Jessy and I got out of the house, in costume, for our shift at the shop, leaving Josie and Becky a note. They came down for breakfast at about 9.00, in swimsuits under their shorts and t-shirts, and the went to the beach. Jessy and I met them there-- still in costume of course. Of course people stare when we walk down the beach in-season, dressed like 1750s working girls. We put on smiles and carry hand baskets from which we give out discount coupons. The cards are for a free breakfast or sundae if you buy three, because Mommy always said she'd rather have families than dates. It's a different kind of clientele, one that tends to come back a few times during a vacation and then again and again, year after year. Besides giving away one out of for makes more business sense than giving away half, you know.
We sat with Becky and Josie in their swimsuits only for a few moments and then went up to change. We had successfully got out of working this evening (whilst I am typing this) and so spent the afternoon off on the mainland seeing 'Harry Potter 6' (sad movie, and very dark). We went shopping and got back here.
Tomorrow we will be working the evening shift. We hope to be on the beach most of the day. I always wonder if I will run into any of my online friends there... they ought to know by now how to find me. Till then I wish them luck! (ha)
...
Jessy, Josie and I left the castle early in the morning, went over and collected Becky, and got up to the Landing (house at Lewes) in time for lunch. Mother had a nice sandwich platter waiting, of which we girls ate pigs' shares. Well-- I am never much for breakfast and we had got nothing more than a bagel or so before we'd left. We had a nice visit and got to show Becky and Josie round our childhood home, including Mommy's cherished formal flower garden out back, newly rejuvenated by Mother (and a bit of paid help). They were especially touched to see Mommy's memorial stone, just a little statuette of an angel on top of the small square marble tablet lying over where her ashes rest. I was glad to be there at Lewes again-- I have not been there in some months. But I do not need Mommy's beloved house ot her gardens or the actual sight of her memorial tablet to remember her, you know.
We caught a ferry at 3.40 for Cape May. Neither Josie nor Becky had ever been on it. This is how provincial some of the people we have met in the Eastern Shore are. The ferry is a fun ride and Cape May is always a nice stop just for a day-- yet none of them have ever ventured two hours north to even see it. For them it is only a dotted line on a map. Jessy and I indulged them and we all went to the forwardmost gate and pretended to lean out like that scene in 'Titanic'. At least we did till we were scolded for it. Then we went up to the deck and leaned out over the railing there, which is more permissible. Needless to say those two dozen photos will make it on to three or four FaceBook sites shortly!
We did not stay for supper in Cape May but drove up directly to the Island and got settled in at the beach house. Jessy and Josie got the idea to stay in the little attic room, the one on the ocean side, where Lisa and J.J. usually sleep, and that might have been sensible. But in the end we all ended up sleeping all over our own room, the one on the western end of the house-- and when I say 'all over' I mean ALL OVER, for after a long game of 'Apples to Apples' we fell asleep where we were, mostly on the floor, though Becky was half up on top of my bed and when I woke up I found Josie curled up on her side with my foot under her pillow. The place was atrociously sweaty. Jessy and I got out of the house, in costume, for our shift at the shop, leaving Josie and Becky a note. They came down for breakfast at about 9.00, in swimsuits under their shorts and t-shirts, and the went to the beach. Jessy and I met them there-- still in costume of course. Of course people stare when we walk down the beach in-season, dressed like 1750s working girls. We put on smiles and carry hand baskets from which we give out discount coupons. The cards are for a free breakfast or sundae if you buy three, because Mommy always said she'd rather have families than dates. It's a different kind of clientele, one that tends to come back a few times during a vacation and then again and again, year after year. Besides giving away one out of for makes more business sense than giving away half, you know.
We sat with Becky and Josie in their swimsuits only for a few moments and then went up to change. We had successfully got out of working this evening (whilst I am typing this) and so spent the afternoon off on the mainland seeing 'Harry Potter 6' (sad movie, and very dark). We went shopping and got back here.
Tomorrow we will be working the evening shift. We hope to be on the beach most of the day. I always wonder if I will run into any of my online friends there... they ought to know by now how to find me. Till then I wish them luck! (ha)
...
26 May 2009
Memorial Day weekend
Saturday & Sunday
With Dottie, Jessy and I opened on Saturday for waffles and pancakes, closed at 11.00, and got out of there by about 11.30. It was warm and sunny and Jessy and I returned to the house for our swimsuits and took blankets down to the beach. There we basked pretty much all day. We met a few nice girls from some other part of New Jersey who lay near us. Also some guys came by whilst we were standing ankle-deep in the water, and we talked to them for a bit. They were insistent that we join them at some kind of party tonight but we had to work and so were able to get out of it. Daddy and Mother and the little ones got down this afternoon and the first we knew they were here was when Mother, in a beautiful blue-and-white bikini, came down and tapped my shoulder where we stood at the water. 'Surprise!' she giggled.
And she might have pushed us in, but the water was too cold. We all hugged and Jessy and I started to tell her about the last two days but there was too much to talk about. She and Daddy had taken Lisa and JJ over to see the Ladybugs game-- I told her then that during dinner at the prom I had got a message on the phone that they had won-- and so she was happy to hear (from Jessy of course) about the 'developments'. Apparently someone had rung the house for Jessy too but she had not got name or message. This is all exciting news for Mother, naturally.
We closed the parlour at 11.00 and walked back along the beach in our Colonial clothes, carrying our shoes and stockings. Jessy wanted to dip her feet. I didn't. For some reason I have been feeling very humble and modest-- and not because of the parlour or the clothes, which actually make me feel a little too provocative. Things have happened and I am not quite comfortable with what's been going on. I feel like I shouldn't be this person, that I may be getting away from myself, and that I just want to go back to the way it once was, when Jessy and I were just nice little girls without people paying so much attention to us. I don't know if that's appropriate but it's just a thought I have been having.
Back at the house we got out of our Colonial clothes and turned in. To be truly authentic you don't wear panties under this gear-- elastic-waisted panties really don't show up before 1920. Neither Jessy nor I do, even working in the parlour (unless it's necessary, you know). So we have been sleeping naked in our beds, in the same room, which is NOT that weird since we are sisters (and please don't go anywhere else with that). In the middle of the night I found myself awake, facing a 7.00 shift without going to church in the morning, and I went down stairs for a cup of tea to settle myself. I put on no lights, only the stove and the kettle and the little light under the cabinets, but apparently I was obvious because next I knew Daddy was ducking his head in. 'Are you all right?'
I turned round, standing at the stove, and blushed a little-- not because I was naked but because I was up in the middle of the night. 'I couldn't sleep,' I told him.
He nodded. The kettle was about to whistle and I turned it off and poured into my cup. 'All right,' he whispered. 'You're on in the morning, right?'
I nodded, watching as I swirlled the tea bag round in the cup. 'I'll be fine.'
'Okay. Good night.'
'Good night, Daddy.'
He left. I took my tea out to the front parlour, which faces the ocean, and sat there in the dark sipping my tea. It was hot and we had left a few windows open for the breeze. When I finished the cup I folded some pillows under my shoulder and sighed, staring into space for a while....
'Hey,' she said, 'get up. I can't believe you're down here. What happened to you?'
It was daylight and she was poking my arm, and I was still on the couch, curled up naked with the pillows. 'Oh,' I said. And I got up and got dressed for the morning shift.
...
With Dottie, Jessy and I opened on Saturday for waffles and pancakes, closed at 11.00, and got out of there by about 11.30. It was warm and sunny and Jessy and I returned to the house for our swimsuits and took blankets down to the beach. There we basked pretty much all day. We met a few nice girls from some other part of New Jersey who lay near us. Also some guys came by whilst we were standing ankle-deep in the water, and we talked to them for a bit. They were insistent that we join them at some kind of party tonight but we had to work and so were able to get out of it. Daddy and Mother and the little ones got down this afternoon and the first we knew they were here was when Mother, in a beautiful blue-and-white bikini, came down and tapped my shoulder where we stood at the water. 'Surprise!' she giggled.
And she might have pushed us in, but the water was too cold. We all hugged and Jessy and I started to tell her about the last two days but there was too much to talk about. She and Daddy had taken Lisa and JJ over to see the Ladybugs game-- I told her then that during dinner at the prom I had got a message on the phone that they had won-- and so she was happy to hear (from Jessy of course) about the 'developments'. Apparently someone had rung the house for Jessy too but she had not got name or message. This is all exciting news for Mother, naturally.
We closed the parlour at 11.00 and walked back along the beach in our Colonial clothes, carrying our shoes and stockings. Jessy wanted to dip her feet. I didn't. For some reason I have been feeling very humble and modest-- and not because of the parlour or the clothes, which actually make me feel a little too provocative. Things have happened and I am not quite comfortable with what's been going on. I feel like I shouldn't be this person, that I may be getting away from myself, and that I just want to go back to the way it once was, when Jessy and I were just nice little girls without people paying so much attention to us. I don't know if that's appropriate but it's just a thought I have been having.
Back at the house we got out of our Colonial clothes and turned in. To be truly authentic you don't wear panties under this gear-- elastic-waisted panties really don't show up before 1920. Neither Jessy nor I do, even working in the parlour (unless it's necessary, you know). So we have been sleeping naked in our beds, in the same room, which is NOT that weird since we are sisters (and please don't go anywhere else with that). In the middle of the night I found myself awake, facing a 7.00 shift without going to church in the morning, and I went down stairs for a cup of tea to settle myself. I put on no lights, only the stove and the kettle and the little light under the cabinets, but apparently I was obvious because next I knew Daddy was ducking his head in. 'Are you all right?'
I turned round, standing at the stove, and blushed a little-- not because I was naked but because I was up in the middle of the night. 'I couldn't sleep,' I told him.
He nodded. The kettle was about to whistle and I turned it off and poured into my cup. 'All right,' he whispered. 'You're on in the morning, right?'
I nodded, watching as I swirlled the tea bag round in the cup. 'I'll be fine.'
'Okay. Good night.'
'Good night, Daddy.'
He left. I took my tea out to the front parlour, which faces the ocean, and sat there in the dark sipping my tea. It was hot and we had left a few windows open for the breeze. When I finished the cup I folded some pillows under my shoulder and sighed, staring into space for a while....
'Hey,' she said, 'get up. I can't believe you're down here. What happened to you?'
It was daylight and she was poking my arm, and I was still on the couch, curled up naked with the pillows. 'Oh,' I said. And I got up and got dressed for the morning shift.
...
Coming right up
Friday, May 22nd
We arrived at the beach house at about 3.05. Roger had driven well but avoiding the ferry in the dead of night he was left with mainly back roads, especially though New Jersey. He carried up our bags and checked over the house for us and ensured that we set the alarm again, and then he took the car over to his own place on the mainland for the night. Jessy had wanted to get changed in the car, or at least to get out of her gown, but I dissuaded her and now we got out of everything and let down our hair and turned in, in the attic bedroom that was once our regular room when we were much littler.
We had set no alarm and I got up at about ten. It was sunny and bright, already very warm, and without putting on anything I went down stairs and put on tea for myself. Jessy remained in bed past noon. I typed up the bit about the prom then. My mobile phone had about six messages, all from people asking how it had gone. I answered a few of them by telling them to read the blog when I got back! --well,that's what it's there for. The closer friends got a short text message-- 'It was fun. Jessy says there are developments. Talk when we get back.' They all know we are here for the weekend and will likely be here all summer. I hope to invite some people here for the odd weekend or so as the season progresses.
I rang Dottie, who is the manager this year, and in mid-afternoon Jessy and I got dressed and walked down the street in our Colonial-era costumes to the ice cream parlour. Dottie was already there, in her pale green bedjacket and dull tan work skirt. I had on my rose-pink ensemble and Jessy her navy-blue bodice and pale-blue skirt. Everyone here wears costume, even the kitchen staff in their work shirts and sailor slops (loose short pants). Dottie went over the schedule for the weekend and we sorted our inventory and got ready for 5.00. Normally the hours are 7.00 till 11.00 in the morning for pancakes and waffles, and 7.00 till 11.00 at night for ice cream. That's it. The girls all like it because they can hold down a real job, working one shift or the other, and still have valuable beach time. During the day sometimes some of them work the day shift in the bookstore next door. That's a job I want-- I prefer literature to serving food, you know.
Today we opened at 5.00, according to the sign and our advertisements. It was not slow, as people arriving at the shore for the weekend often expect some little treat for their having arrived here. Dottie made sure she introduced us both to everyone she knew. It has been over two years since Jessy and I last worked here and few of them recognised us. Dottie's younger daughter, going into her second year at university, worked with us. We made a good team and all went well, and we closed at 9.00 pm and cleaned up.
I cannot even look at this building, or think about it, or especially work here without thinking of Mommy. This was her pride and joy, the very dream she always had as a little girl, running her own shop, a happy place where people crave to come and enjoy sweet treats and an unique atmosphere. Then when Mother was our au pair and nanny she worked here too, lending it even more colour with her cute accent and her old-fashioned manners and aristocratic pretensions. And though it was always somewhat theatrical, Mother made it even more like acting, a four-hour improvisational show, in which nothing is modern and everything is like a veiled joke. Like, she would complain about the menu-- 'Orange juice! No, of course there is none of that! We have not got a ship in from Barbados in weeks! I do apologise. I can offer you some weak tea-- how will that be instead?' And all the while there would be four gallons of orange juice in the 'fridge, you know. But the customer would get weak orange pekoe tea, and he would laugh, and consider it part of the fun.
Dottie is less theatrical herself, but she always encourages it in the rest and mainly from Mother's teaching has got really good at being able to instruct the wait staff in period-accurate comments. For example a 1700s-style ice cream parlour would seem like a contradiction-- but the French had ice cream in Louis XIV's time and it was always considered a delicious delicacy-- and so our higher-than-average prices are justified. We always put a fine point on its being a kind of anachronism-- 'Ice!' Mother used to exclaim. 'We have got ice! And this being July! Can you imagine!' I mean how would they have ice here in 1740? --it would have been dug out of a river in winter and stored under ground packed in hay, and there are no basements here on a barrier island and hardly any hay-- you know. But it is part of the fun that this place doesn't seem to exist at all.
The costumes, though, are a big part of the fun, and hardly as expensive as you might think. We take advantage of commercial makers of these clothes, but they are always authentically hand-stitched and correct in design and sensible in material, mostly cotton, some linen, little wool and always summer weight, and NO manmade fibres. Without air-conditioning it's actually quite comfortable. You sweat, but you have got powder on and everything near your skin is lightweight cotton and breathes well enough. My biggest complaint is my stockings sliding down when my legs get sweaty. Jessy rolls hers right down on top of her shoes-- you're not supposed to show an ankle anyway. And then there is the bonnet-- I have half a dozen, one bought, one made by Mother and the rest by me, and though they are all well-used now I still love them. You must never show too much hair either-- it was considered heinous flirting if you did. So Jessy's hair, which never stays in place, is always falling out one side or the other, and we tease her by calling her 'hussy' and 'trollop' and so on. This draws attention from the patrons which is the effect it should have. Even as girls in swimsuit tops and short shorts are coming through the place for ice cream, we get noticed for a glimpse of stocking.
And the best part of all is that guys, especially younger guys, absolutely rave over girls dressed like this. The dresses are nothing if not exquisitely feminine, with things tied and cinched here and there and subtle pleats and darts to accentuate the shape underneath. And of course, in the mid-1700s style was to show off as much bare chest as God-fearing women should dare to. The stays wrap round your ribs and lace up at the sides in an effort to make your upper body sort of like a cylinder, which really means that if you have got anything at all up front it's lifted up and out and very nearly has to be restrained! If your waist is well-defined then, too, the result is pretty dramatic-- it's an excellent look for anyone who has got anything of a figure at all, and if you haven't got one it will make you look like you do. I only wish other girls believed me. The eye attention from the opposite sex could almost be enough to bring this stuff back into fashion all over!
...
We arrived at the beach house at about 3.05. Roger had driven well but avoiding the ferry in the dead of night he was left with mainly back roads, especially though New Jersey. He carried up our bags and checked over the house for us and ensured that we set the alarm again, and then he took the car over to his own place on the mainland for the night. Jessy had wanted to get changed in the car, or at least to get out of her gown, but I dissuaded her and now we got out of everything and let down our hair and turned in, in the attic bedroom that was once our regular room when we were much littler.
We had set no alarm and I got up at about ten. It was sunny and bright, already very warm, and without putting on anything I went down stairs and put on tea for myself. Jessy remained in bed past noon. I typed up the bit about the prom then. My mobile phone had about six messages, all from people asking how it had gone. I answered a few of them by telling them to read the blog when I got back! --well,that's what it's there for. The closer friends got a short text message-- 'It was fun. Jessy says there are developments. Talk when we get back.' They all know we are here for the weekend and will likely be here all summer. I hope to invite some people here for the odd weekend or so as the season progresses.
I rang Dottie, who is the manager this year, and in mid-afternoon Jessy and I got dressed and walked down the street in our Colonial-era costumes to the ice cream parlour. Dottie was already there, in her pale green bedjacket and dull tan work skirt. I had on my rose-pink ensemble and Jessy her navy-blue bodice and pale-blue skirt. Everyone here wears costume, even the kitchen staff in their work shirts and sailor slops (loose short pants). Dottie went over the schedule for the weekend and we sorted our inventory and got ready for 5.00. Normally the hours are 7.00 till 11.00 in the morning for pancakes and waffles, and 7.00 till 11.00 at night for ice cream. That's it. The girls all like it because they can hold down a real job, working one shift or the other, and still have valuable beach time. During the day sometimes some of them work the day shift in the bookstore next door. That's a job I want-- I prefer literature to serving food, you know.
Today we opened at 5.00, according to the sign and our advertisements. It was not slow, as people arriving at the shore for the weekend often expect some little treat for their having arrived here. Dottie made sure she introduced us both to everyone she knew. It has been over two years since Jessy and I last worked here and few of them recognised us. Dottie's younger daughter, going into her second year at university, worked with us. We made a good team and all went well, and we closed at 9.00 pm and cleaned up.
I cannot even look at this building, or think about it, or especially work here without thinking of Mommy. This was her pride and joy, the very dream she always had as a little girl, running her own shop, a happy place where people crave to come and enjoy sweet treats and an unique atmosphere. Then when Mother was our au pair and nanny she worked here too, lending it even more colour with her cute accent and her old-fashioned manners and aristocratic pretensions. And though it was always somewhat theatrical, Mother made it even more like acting, a four-hour improvisational show, in which nothing is modern and everything is like a veiled joke. Like, she would complain about the menu-- 'Orange juice! No, of course there is none of that! We have not got a ship in from Barbados in weeks! I do apologise. I can offer you some weak tea-- how will that be instead?' And all the while there would be four gallons of orange juice in the 'fridge, you know. But the customer would get weak orange pekoe tea, and he would laugh, and consider it part of the fun.
Dottie is less theatrical herself, but she always encourages it in the rest and mainly from Mother's teaching has got really good at being able to instruct the wait staff in period-accurate comments. For example a 1700s-style ice cream parlour would seem like a contradiction-- but the French had ice cream in Louis XIV's time and it was always considered a delicious delicacy-- and so our higher-than-average prices are justified. We always put a fine point on its being a kind of anachronism-- 'Ice!' Mother used to exclaim. 'We have got ice! And this being July! Can you imagine!' I mean how would they have ice here in 1740? --it would have been dug out of a river in winter and stored under ground packed in hay, and there are no basements here on a barrier island and hardly any hay-- you know. But it is part of the fun that this place doesn't seem to exist at all.
The costumes, though, are a big part of the fun, and hardly as expensive as you might think. We take advantage of commercial makers of these clothes, but they are always authentically hand-stitched and correct in design and sensible in material, mostly cotton, some linen, little wool and always summer weight, and NO manmade fibres. Without air-conditioning it's actually quite comfortable. You sweat, but you have got powder on and everything near your skin is lightweight cotton and breathes well enough. My biggest complaint is my stockings sliding down when my legs get sweaty. Jessy rolls hers right down on top of her shoes-- you're not supposed to show an ankle anyway. And then there is the bonnet-- I have half a dozen, one bought, one made by Mother and the rest by me, and though they are all well-used now I still love them. You must never show too much hair either-- it was considered heinous flirting if you did. So Jessy's hair, which never stays in place, is always falling out one side or the other, and we tease her by calling her 'hussy' and 'trollop' and so on. This draws attention from the patrons which is the effect it should have. Even as girls in swimsuit tops and short shorts are coming through the place for ice cream, we get noticed for a glimpse of stocking.
And the best part of all is that guys, especially younger guys, absolutely rave over girls dressed like this. The dresses are nothing if not exquisitely feminine, with things tied and cinched here and there and subtle pleats and darts to accentuate the shape underneath. And of course, in the mid-1700s style was to show off as much bare chest as God-fearing women should dare to. The stays wrap round your ribs and lace up at the sides in an effort to make your upper body sort of like a cylinder, which really means that if you have got anything at all up front it's lifted up and out and very nearly has to be restrained! If your waist is well-defined then, too, the result is pretty dramatic-- it's an excellent look for anyone who has got anything of a figure at all, and if you haven't got one it will make you look like you do. I only wish other girls believed me. The eye attention from the opposite sex could almost be enough to bring this stuff back into fashion all over!
...
03 May 2009
Thank God I brought my laptop
morning in April....
The ocean is blue now. It is the dry, pure blue of no humidity, that sparkles in the sunlight, the rich cobalt blue of every story that ever mentioned the deep blue sea. Line after line of wet white waves curl and cascade upon the shore. The pristine sand, blown and battered smooth by the endless waves and untouched by footprints extends a mile to either side of where I stand on this deck with the startlingly crisp, clear east wind tearing tightly at my hair and collar. This sky is not the aenemic atmospheric aspect of summer but dense and brilliant, reflected from the bright blue of the ocean, so true-blue that if you could scratch it with your fingernail it would not show white underneath like an antique glass Christmas ornament but be blue all the way through. In the sharp white laser-light of the morning sun everything looks pure and unspoilt, the railing of this deck, the dunes pricked with dead evergreen branches, the grey beach grass and the sand beyond, the white rollies of the shorebreak, and the ocean, all of the ocean, from here to Portugal, a breathtakingly beautiful blue that shall be lost to indistinct greenish-grey as the spring wanes and the season warms. But it shall not be forgotten by me.
The ocean is waiting.
...
The ocean is blue now. It is the dry, pure blue of no humidity, that sparkles in the sunlight, the rich cobalt blue of every story that ever mentioned the deep blue sea. Line after line of wet white waves curl and cascade upon the shore. The pristine sand, blown and battered smooth by the endless waves and untouched by footprints extends a mile to either side of where I stand on this deck with the startlingly crisp, clear east wind tearing tightly at my hair and collar. This sky is not the aenemic atmospheric aspect of summer but dense and brilliant, reflected from the bright blue of the ocean, so true-blue that if you could scratch it with your fingernail it would not show white underneath like an antique glass Christmas ornament but be blue all the way through. In the sharp white laser-light of the morning sun everything looks pure and unspoilt, the railing of this deck, the dunes pricked with dead evergreen branches, the grey beach grass and the sand beyond, the white rollies of the shorebreak, and the ocean, all of the ocean, from here to Portugal, a breathtakingly beautiful blue that shall be lost to indistinct greenish-grey as the spring wanes and the season warms. But it shall not be forgotten by me.
The ocean is waiting.
...
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