Sisters of the Polyester Pantsuit

Remember when I said that Episcopalians make Catholics feel better about our troubles? Well, here are a couple of our troubles:

Oh dear. The bongos say it all. But if you really need to read more, click here. Our Heroine thinks that Vatican visitation may be just the thing.

You mustn't get the wrong idea. Our Heroine loves nuns, and she loves "nun-gazing" (more so now I've been reading The Crescat). So as an antidote to the bongos, I give you this image a dear, sweet sister:

Image via The Crescat

If it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever

A cup of coffee
Victor-Gabriel Gilbert

Up so early, my lovelies, and I'm not sure why. Day is still cool, and I watched the sun come up with the most delicious cup of coffee I've had in recent memory, all steamy and toasted.

I like how the lady in Gilbert's picture is holding her cup so daintily, her wee pinky extended. Even all by herself in the scullery, she's still a girl through and through.

Me? I am holding my cardboard cup in one big Irish paw and cussing the peasant ancestors that deprived me of glorious slim digits.

Side note: I want that apron.

Title Credit: David Letterman

Our Heroine Misses The Entitled English Aristocrat of Yesteryear

"Ce grand diable de milord anglais"

That's John Singer Sargent's portrait of Lord Ribblesdale above. Isn't it grand? Does he not perfectly epitomize a bygone era of arrogant English noblemen? Our Heroine is an American and a democratic republican, but I still lament we shall not see this type again.

And I do so love this quote of his Lordship's regarding the portrait. When one is already so great, I s'pose any additional greatness thrust on you just becomes burdensome.

"My picture here looks exceedingly well, and I am assured is regarded as the great feature of the Exhibition. It has forced a greatness on me which is quite embarrassing; and wherever I go, I am recognized and much chuchotement and pointing out to friends goes on. At the vernissage, which I just dropped in for, it was really tiresome; and several people - but all I think artists - have introduced themselves to me, on the plea of not being able to resist offering their congratulations."

I'm sorry y'all, I'm not sure why, but I am feeling very in love with the Victorians these days, and I'm dragging all of you down Fin de Siècle Lane with me.

But I promise that tomorrow I will firmly plant myself in the present day to tell you why I hate Twilight. Gah! It's just the worst. Lord Ribblesdale would have loathed it.