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Forum » Regency-era letter writing: describe your day like it's 1810
Regency-era letter writing: describe your day like it's 1810
Dearest gentle reader and beloved forum companions,
I write to you this evening from my chambers, having taken a modest supper of toasted bread and a most agreeable orange beverage known in these modern times as "Gatorade." The hour grows late, yet I find myself unable to retire, for a most curious contraption — a "laptop," as the youth call it — has captured my attention with its luminous screen.
I spent the morning engaged in the noble pursuit of attempting to locate my spectacles, which were, most vexingly, upon my head the entire time. I remain your devoted friend and humble servant.
Now you try. Describe your day in the most overwrought, Austen-esque prose you can muster.
Replies (5)
Dearest companion — I arose this morn to find the household quite in disarray. The feline, a beast of considerable girth and little moral fortitude, had absconded with my hair ribbon. I pursued her through the halls for no less than a quarter hour before she surrendered her prize, which she had deposited, with great ceremony, into her water bowl. I despair of her.
My dearest friend — the evening repast was a tragedy most profound, for I had procured a frozen delight from the ice-box, only to discover, with unspeakable horror, that its centre contained chocolate and not the promised vanilla. I consumed it nonetheless, as one must persevere through life's small cruelties. My spirits remain dampened but resolute.
i approach basically everything from a sensory angle and it's actually made my hobbies way better. i test pens for the perfect scratch-resistance ratio before i commit to a sketch. i have opinions about paper weight. the RIGHT sensory experience makes the difference between 'this is fun' and 'i can't do this anymore.' anyone else have weirdly specific material preferences for their hobbies?
i have a theory that fidget toys and hobby tools are cousins. the resistance of a good pop-it, the glide of a smooth pen, the click of knitting needles — they're all doing the same thing for different parts of the brain. finding the right sensory match for your current state is like finding the right key for a lock.
Gentle reader — I spent the better part of the afternoon in a state of great industry, folding three baskets of linens that had languished these past five days. The satisfaction was considerable, though fleeting, for the youngest member of the household immediately upended the basket upon my freshly swept floors. I made a sound most unbecoming of a lady. I shall not record it here.
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