Inspired by the Oscars*G* I created a video over the weekend, mostly as a way to show some of the locations of An Unlikely Countess, though giving them context turned it into a bit of a book trailer.
Anyway, it was fun. If you want to do something with still images, I recommend Photo Story. It's an old programme, but it's a free download it from Microsoft, and once you learn its fairly simple ways, it's easy to use.
If you like it, I'd be delighted if you passed it on via Facebook, Twitter, and the usual places.
Here's the link.
As you'll gather, my new book, An Unlikely Countess, is out soon. Like... tomorrow!
There's an excerpt here.
The cover is there, too. Google/blogger seems to have done something that means I can't post pictures.
Cheers,
Jo
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
A Valentine's poem
Is this some other odd mating ritual?
Below we have dreadful poetry, even dreadful doggerel, but it shows the traditions of the past. The one referred to is when the names of unmarried men were put in one bowl and of unmarried women in another. Then each picked a name from the opposite bowl.
Verses to a young Lady in Hull, presented on
Valentine-Day. (1755)
Since Valentine, that Saint benign,
To all the Sons of Adam,
Did leave this Day, as who should lay,
Let each Man chuse his Madam.
Then blame who can, since I'm the man.
As much as is my daddy ;
If I persue, and wish for you,
More than sot other lady.
You are my right, for yesternight,
With scrips of paper rolled
I drew your name, which made my flame,
Too high to be controlled.
Now every night, your image bright,
A moment leaves me never ;
O that it wou'd, be still so good,
With joy I'd sleep for ever.
Grant then, dear miss, some hopes of bliss.
If I deserve your notice ;
If not be free, and let me see,
My chance, not worth a groat is.
But if you frown, or tell the town,
My passion then is over;
For if you be, not kind to me,
At once you lose a lover.
But should you fear, my plaint to hear,
Nor e'er intend to do it,
There's, no such man, prove it who can,
As Valentine or poet.
May you enjoy St. Valentine's Day, however you mark it.
Jo
Below we have dreadful poetry, even dreadful doggerel, but it shows the traditions of the past. The one referred to is when the names of unmarried men were put in one bowl and of unmarried women in another. Then each picked a name from the opposite bowl.
Verses to a young Lady in Hull, presented on
Valentine-Day. (1755)
Since Valentine, that Saint benign,
To all the Sons of Adam,
Did leave this Day, as who should lay,
Let each Man chuse his Madam.
Then blame who can, since I'm the man.
As much as is my daddy ;
If I persue, and wish for you,
More than sot other lady.
You are my right, for yesternight,
With scrips of paper rolled
I drew your name, which made my flame,
Too high to be controlled.
Now every night, your image bright,
A moment leaves me never ;
O that it wou'd, be still so good,
With joy I'd sleep for ever.
Grant then, dear miss, some hopes of bliss.
If I deserve your notice ;
If not be free, and let me see,
My chance, not worth a groat is.
But if you frown, or tell the town,
My passion then is over;
For if you be, not kind to me,
At once you lose a lover.
But should you fear, my plaint to hear,
Nor e'er intend to do it,
There's, no such man, prove it who can,
As Valentine or poet.
May you enjoy St. Valentine's Day, however you mark it.
Jo
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