I've had so much trouble getting the right backdrop and light for portraits of my Anne doll. Today it came to me to take her to school as that is where she was happiest. So, I took her to the old New Bern Academy (1809) --which is located about a block from where I live. People were staring at me as I was laying in the grass under an oak tree and holding my camera steady. One lady couldn't see the doll and she got so curious that I had to tell her that I was taking a picture of my doll. She thought it must be a squirrel. I'm sure I looked pretty strange.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Posted by Rosemary Osterhus at 5:46 PM
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
"Anne's House of Dreams" Chapter 30, "Leslie Decides"
One evening Gilbert abruptly proposed that they go down and see Captain Jim. With a sinking heart Anne agreed, and they set forth. Two weeks of kind sunshine had wrought a miracle in the bleak landscape over which Gilbert's crow had flown. The hills and fields were dry and brown and warm, ready to break into bud and blossom; the harbor was laughter-shaken again; the long harbor road was like a gleaming red ribbon; down on the dunes a crowd of boys, who were out smelt fishing, were burning the thick, dry sandhill grass of the preceding summer. The flames swept over the dunes rosily, flinging their cardinal banners against the dark gulf beyond, and illuminating the channel and the fishing village. It was a picturesque scene which would at other times have delighted Anne's eyes; but she was not enjoying this walk. Neither was Gilbert. Their usual good-comradeship and Josephian community of taste and viewpoint were sadly lacking. Anne's disapproval of the whole project showed itself in the haughty uplift of her head and the studied politeness of her remarks. Gilbert's mouth was set in all the Blythe obstinacy, but his eyes were troubled. He meant to do what he believed to be his duty; but to be at outs with Anne was a high price to pay. Altogether, both were glad when they reached the light—and remorseful that they should be glad.
Posted by Rosemary Osterhus at 3:53 PM