Mary C. M. Phillips

I began my morning by having my cup of coffee with Coffee Mate’s new “Peppermint Mocha” creamer.  As a coffee addict, it’s seldom I change my traditional coffee with Half & Half brew, but this new flavor has made me very happy of late.

My desert island meal could indubitable be a warm slice of pumpkin pie (with a dap of whipped cream) and a hot “peppermint mocha” coffee.”

With coffee-in-hand, I turned to my daily routine which includes accompanying my dogs into the backyard.  They are both shih-tzus and both a bit on the nervous side, so when I let them out back, they like to know I am there.  It’s actually pretty cute.  So, that is where you will find me on any given morning; with my dogs; coffee in-hand, regardless of the weather.  

While outside in the morning air, I noticed the postman delivering our mail and once back in the house, attended to opening various envelopes; upon seeing one envelope, my heart fluttered.  (JASNA) Jane Austen Society of North America had sent me their standard letter welcoming me as a member; joining a community of Austen lovers/readers from all parts of the world.

My love of coffee is an addiction for sure, but so is my love of reading Jane Austen.

How could something so simple, make me so happy?  (Maybe it’s just the caffeine, Mary). Regardless, I’m now looking forward to meeting fellow JASNA members at their next Annual General Meeting and will a be adding to my bio, those lovely words:  Proud member of the Jane Austen Society of North America!

So, I spent yesterday reading through a new anthology of short stories from Adams Media:  Bad Austen (The Worst Stories Jane Never Wrote).

The book is divided into three sections:  Austen-era, present-day, and paranormal (including zombies, vampires and the like).  My story is on page 131, btw!

Yes, I’ve enjoyed reading each and every story and could not be happier that one of my very own is keeping such amiable company; my words, agreeably sharing page-space with such talented, creative (and of course Austen-loving!)  writers.  Bad Austen is good!!!

Bad Austen

If you’re in the Long Island area on Friday, November 25th, “Black Friday” (that would be the day after Thanksgiving), I’ll be doing a book reading and book signing at the Manhasset Barnes & Noble at 12:00 noon.

My first!

Start your Christmas shopping early.  How delightful it will be!

 Buy here online from B & N

While driving home from Starbucks, sipping an iced coffee, I pulled over to the side of the road for a yard sale.

Two older gentlemen were selling old books and antique framed prints.  

I picked up a children’s storybook entitled “Good Time Story Book” (McLoughlin Bros. New York, no date of publication) for $2 which seemed like a good deal and skimmed through the musty pages; thick frayed pages; worn, but full of beautiful pencil-drawings, hymns, and poetry.

Each poem, although meant for children, had something bittersweet to offer.

In the middle of the book — page numbers omitted — an old man sits forlorn in a chair while a young girl seems to offer some tea and an encouraging word.  Below is the poem written by “Mrs. Albert Smith” that accompanies the illustration …

*      *     *

______________________________________________________________

Scatter Seeds of Kindness –

Strange we never prize the music

  Till the sweet-voiced bird has flown!

Strange that we should slight the violets

  Till the lovely flowers are gone!

Strange that summer skies and sunshine

  Never seem one-half so fair,

As when winter’s snowy pinions

  Shake the white down in the air.

And then at last the last verse, prettier than the first….

  *  *  *  *  *  *

Oh, there’s many a wayworn wanderer,

             Whom the cold world treats with scorn,

Who has often wept in secret,

              Wishing he had ne’er been born’

Let us those remember daily

              In our prayers to God on high,

While we scatter seeds of kindness

              For our reaping by and by.  

So…my two dollars were well spent having reaped some inspiration from Mrs. Albert Smith.  The book — now the summit amongst a small stack of others —  on a table (which shares some local yard-sale heritage) next to an armchair in the living room; a new item with plans of being picked up one day by a friend or wayworn wanderer as seeds of kindness and hospitality are sowed and scattered in my own life.

The meager price being less than the tasty but quickly-consumed iced-coffee which now, in retrospect, seems (at least in contrast)  to have been a complete rip off.

blog entry by Mrs. Mark Phillips