tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38630758549425488642012-01-21T13:44:49.708-08:00What if we were to unmoor wifehood from marriage?My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.comBlogger571100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-60181753512615050362012-01-09T17:30:00.000-08:002012-01-09T17:51:04.164-08:00

This is exciting. VISAWUS is doing a conference theme of Victorian Transnationalism this fall at SUNY Plattsburgh. What the advertisement on The Hoarding does not reveal is that Amanda Claybaugh, Professor of English at Harvard University, is to be the keynote speaker! (I confess that it was I who suggested to the Board when we met last fall that we invite Dr. Claybaugh. I really enjoyed her

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-16599994971729412802012-01-04T10:32:00.000-08:002012-01-05T21:05:17.595-08:00

In the Fall, I took a few risks with my course design. I think I was reacting to the fact that for the past two years I've been teaching writing courses that were linked to large lecture courses. I had no control over the materials that my students were encountering in their lecture courses; my role was to teach context-specific writing. Although that is also a pleasant and rewarding gig, I was

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-73740619981129954782011-12-31T07:45:00.000-08:002011-12-31T08:07:51.776-08:00

Mathilde and I are sitting here in the early morning darkness contemplating the lit Christmas Tree. We are listening to Ave Maria and contentedly gnawing on Mortimer Moose (well, one of us is). It is amazing to think that in January 2011 we nearly lost this baby, and here we are today with a chubby, raspberry-blowing, joy-bundle. What a blessing this creature beside me is.2011 was full of

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-57732882548408612682011-12-15T20:06:00.000-08:002011-12-15T20:15:02.440-08:00

Done Grading!Exhausted.But celebrating.Wine.Packing.Trip!Airport.Early.Very early in morning.With baby.With 7-month-old baby who recently learned to scream as if starring in a horror movie....Wine.Xmas break.Cookies!Anxiety.MLA looming.Suit.SALA paper looming.Research over holiday break.ENG 200 prep looming.Reading for fun is dead.Wine.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-23241659419196255832011-12-07T19:53:00.001-08:002011-12-09T10:10:58.294-08:00

I've been so busy this term teaching my two writing classes, revising an article, showing up (online) for a faculty development writers' bootcamp, and caring for the mothersucker that I've not had any time to update this blog. SO: here I show you two things near and dear to my hear that both happen to be wrapped in red. It's a cheap occasion for a blog, I admit, but I'm stretched pretty thin

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-16755988367175795312011-10-05T13:50:00.000-07:002011-10-05T17:24:28.161-07:00

"Set against the sweeping landscapes of Seattle and Oxnard, this is an epic love story of a forbidden and secretive relationship between a struggling adjunct professor-turned-mama and swishy pair of charcoal gray Gap maternity pants who meet in the winter of 2011 while navigating the shoals of a difficult pregnancy. They unexpectedly forge an unorthodox yet lifelong connection, one whose

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-44897416084761618672011-09-30T09:54:00.000-07:002011-09-30T11:58:13.665-07:00

I had a major feminist fail last week on an airplane. I had dressed my daughter in a lovely blue and gray long-sleeved one-piece outfit by Babysoy. Unlike most of Miss Matty's clothes, which are hand-me-downs or gifts, this was something I picked out to buy back when I was a few months pregnant. It is one of the softest pieces of clothing she owns. Anyway, on the flight, Miss Matty was a huge hit

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-11466836409911496902011-08-11T12:37:00.000-07:002011-08-18T15:46:45.904-07:00

Not yet, but here's a baby counting book based on Pride and Prejudice! WANT.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-28085966820113887422011-08-08T11:07:00.000-07:002011-08-31T17:48:06.798-07:00

Overnight, this girl has grown up. As I type this, she's *enjoying* tummy time. And this morning at 4:15am I found myself *waiting* for Miss Matty to wake up to nurse. The girl slept nearly 8 consecutive hours! She smiles all the time! She can eat her fists! How did we accomplish these milestones, you ask? Lately, because I'm a first time parent, I've been reading baby care books. Because

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-34222499880008612002011-07-21T20:47:00.000-07:002011-07-21T21:07:22.670-07:00

Look Mommy, I'm an angel!Thursday nights have become my sacred "leave house and work in cafe" nights. Tonight is no exception, although leaving the house was more challenging than usual because Miss Matty decided to poop all over us during dinner. One minute I was holding her and shoveling lemon-paprika tilapia into my goot, and the next minute I'm staring down at the growing warm wetness pooling

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-9545413667913469542011-06-29T20:22:00.000-07:002011-06-29T20:24:38.329-07:00

My brain has been sucked out by the wearer of the bib, so no wordy posts about Victorian literature or culture are on the horizon. I am beginning to wonder what it is like to read a book.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-35272394549652489322011-05-10T20:12:00.000-07:002011-05-10T20:28:26.357-07:00

After a four-hour tour of Babies-R-Us, followed by a quick stop at Target for diapers and a nursing tank, my brain is a bit fried. What's the rush, you ask? Baby is coming tomorrow! Hence, I have been sewing up a storm. Here are some results.Bib-apalooza 2011 continues.More pajamas: these ones with footie pants!Boppy pillow cover.Burp cloths.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-80322633139733600102011-04-12T11:42:00.000-07:002011-04-12T13:05:16.076-07:00

A sweet and well-intending graduate student, another Victorianist four years behind me in the PhD program who aims to finish her degree sometime this year and go on the dismal market this fall, recently congratulated me on "staying current" in the field. I think she was trying to make me a compliment regarding my TT job hunt stamina, along the lines of "Your persistence inspires, impresses, and

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-4501512531119951462011-04-04T16:00:00.000-07:002012-01-09T20:42:22.933-08:00

"What a world of gammon and spinnage it is, though, ain't it!""What do you mean, Miss Mowcher?" said Steerforth."Ha! ha! ha! What a refreshing set of humbugs we are, to be sure, ain't we, my sweet child?" replied that morsel of a woman. (David Copperfield

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-21614036537625183762011-03-07T17:08:00.000-08:002011-03-07T17:12:50.703-08:00

Here's a little something I sewed up yesterday. I decided it merited its own blog post. I will be academic and feministy again tomorrow, but for today, I'm just nesting.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-61716124649833044382011-02-21T09:38:00.000-08:002011-02-21T17:05:09.672-08:00

Confinement, it turns out, is just another word for Waiting. A LOVELY passage from Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children comes to mind; Saleem narrates his gestation during the monsoon in the summer leading up to Indian Independence: By the time the rains came at the end of June, the foetus was fully formed inside her womb. Knees and nose were present; and as many heads as would grow

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-605901997385383302011-02-14T14:52:00.000-08:002011-02-14T15:22:17.266-08:00

It has been just over two weeks of bed rest; forced confinement affords me the opportunity to catch up on my reading and start some new crafty projects. Without further ado, then, here's a blog entry that has been percolating for some time about Tennyson's glorious poem The Princess (1847).Every time I read Middlemarch, I get mad at Dorothea all over again for marrying Mr. Casaubon. Now I find

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-20505062600834399732011-02-04T11:06:00.001-08:002011-02-07T10:06:00.681-08:00

I had started writing a blog post a couple weeks ago about the post-MLA blues, detailing my anxiety about getting campus visits. I had three successful interviews at MLA in January, and one promising Skype interview with a fourth school a couple weeks ago. Then, one of the MLA interview schools, a SLAU in NJ, invited me to visit campus. The post-MLA blues lifted, somewhat.I was supposed to be

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-40525509614112767442011-01-04T17:36:00.001-08:002011-01-04T17:56:25.892-08:00

Alas, I have been relaxing SO MUCH that I have not had time to update this blog in ages. Some of the update-obstacles for December include:1. Catching up with American pop culture by watching important movies like Soylent Green, Natural Born Killers, The Stepford Wives, and What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?1a. Considering blogging about The Stepford Wives but then reverting to item #2, below2.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-85047321655042921922010-11-27T22:33:00.000-08:002010-11-29T13:12:54.605-08:00

How about a weekend of gratitude? On Thanksgiving morning, I was particularly grateful for the rising temperatures in Seattle: the snow was melting, from my windows I could see that more bodies were circulating on foot or in car, and going outside to empty the very full compost bin began to sound like a remote possibility again.I was also grateful for the Macy’s Day Parade which kept me cheery

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-44768460074040659202010-11-11T15:18:00.000-08:002010-11-11T15:39:46.077-08:00

This is me, in bed, marking student papers. It's difficult to tell if the sun is setting or rising. On the other hand, it is evident that my work has turned me into a no-life zombie. This week mea culpa was scheduling all three writing courses to turn in first drafts of their 5-page essay assignments on Monday. Mea maxima culpa, however, was scheduling writing conferences with students from all

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-14466353512677143442010-09-28T10:26:00.000-07:002010-09-28T10:59:22.927-07:00

This here is one of the classrooms I teach in this quarter. It's currently empty, but four times a week, it is full of sophomore college students learning to write (we hope). This Fall, I will be teaching three classes at two universities five days a week, sometimes twice a day. It could be so much worse. I could be adjuncting at more than two schools, or I could be working my rear off without

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-1951048886512331362010-09-13T19:52:00.000-07:002010-09-13T20:30:14.240-07:00

Spoiler Alert!The New York Times review of Adam Ross’s debut novel Mr. Peanut garnered my interest immediately. I was one of the fortunate firsts to reserve the Seattle Public Library’s brand new copy, and now I’ve finished reading it. The book seems to be an answer to my query about literary representations or challenges to the institution of marriage in contemporary American literature.When I

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-61476139560948972742010-09-09T16:24:00.001-07:002010-09-10T14:17:17.701-07:00

Here is a tian.A tian is a layered casserole.Wait, maybe it's not: my tian does not look like this tian at all.It turns out a tian is more gratin than casserole.According to Larousse Gastronomique, a tian is an earthenware, ovenproof dish from Provence used to prepare all kinds of gratin dishes, which are also called tian.I made this non tian while living at someone else's house, taking care of

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-44356863625464738142010-08-18T22:15:00.001-07:002010-08-19T09:33:37.256-07:00

I’ve been a fan of Jane Campion’s work since The Piano hit the scene in 1993, when I was in college for the first time. Friends who knew me well insisted that I view that film; I think they wanted to see my reaction to the mixture of violence against a woman and her emergent sexuality. Campion’s Holy Smoke (1999), another favorite of mine, contained all sorts of psychological violence, that

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-53820376572993339472010-07-16T11:03:00.000-07:002010-07-16T12:08:48.508-07:00

While reading for the bar in England in the early 1880s, H. Rider Haggard started writing novels (imitating one of his brothers who'd done the same as family entertainment). He published Dawn (1884) and The Witch's Head (1885), made a total of £50 on the both of them (historian Thomas Pocock dismisses these early Haggardian domestic fictions as "potboilers"), and upon these financial failures,

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-38077832307757328612010-07-03T19:04:00.000-07:002010-07-03T19:27:19.820-07:00

When I moved into current residence, dozens of boxes of books came with me. Because I did not think I would live here that long, I left many boxes unopened in the basement. Books In Basement have undergone a dark life parallel to and completely divorced from Books Above Ground: they've survived flooding, rat infestation, and the twin plagues of negligence and inadequate sorting. Consequently,

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-83763254226228523252010-07-02T09:47:00.001-07:002010-07-02T12:19:10.367-07:00

Here we have Prada's take on the green turban, circa 2007. It's kind of pretty in a Grey Gardens sort of crazy. In Gaskell's Cranford, Miss Matty asks the narrator to find her a sea-green turban in town, and she is quite disappointed when the narrator fails to deliver one.I have finished re-reading Cranford for the read-along at A Literary Odyssey, and I'm re-charmed by it, though rather

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-64251203070613463402010-06-19T11:25:00.000-07:002010-09-10T15:41:31.721-07:00

I am a few days late with my contribution to the Cranford read-along (hosted by Allie at A Literary Odyssey, due to having a surgery last week and complications therefrom. Well, here I am. But before I give my impressions, I give a little warning: I first read Cranford in graduate school. While I remember thinking the book sort of charming at the time, I also remember thinking it insignificant.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-77151153199957992942010-05-29T17:16:00.000-07:002010-05-29T18:02:48.054-07:00

7:05 PM Krista: HI7:14 PM me:hi what are you reading?7:15 PM Krista:nothing!right now im not reading anythingwhy?7:30 PM me:aren't you supposed to be reading?go read!7:41 PM Krista:well i am in the summerim gonna try and start on thursday while in study halli need to get a head start so i can have some fun in the summer and have sleepovers becuase mom wont let me have any fun7:47 PM me:dude,

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-52775484668978792022010-05-25T18:48:00.000-07:002010-05-30T17:40:42.030-07:00

200 years ago, on September 29, 1810, Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell was born. This year is her bi-centennial. If I lived in England I would likely be attending events associated with the Gaskell Bi-Centennial Celebration 2010. Even the English Unitarians are contributing to the Gaskell worship. One wonders what opportunities for public Gaskell appreciation exist for American devotees. One thinks one

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-3630685380857758422010-02-12T18:04:00.000-08:002010-02-14T15:19:22.589-08:00

I just learned that it's Freedom to Marry week. The Freedom to Marry organization is Evan Wolfson's brainchild. Wolfson wrote Why Marriage Matters: America, Equality, and Gay People's Right to Marry. (Guess what that's about? Go on, guess!) I admit that I never got all the way through Wolfson's book, because Wendy Brown's States of Injury had an influence on me in graduate school. If I remember

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-21254616000364990442010-01-14T14:00:00.000-08:002010-01-14T20:36:23.091-08:00

England experienced what I’ve referred to as a “crisis of marriage” starting around the mid-eighteenth century with Lord Hardwicke’s Marriage Act, which was supposed to eliminate marital indeterminacy. That is, the 1753 legislation was supposed to help folks determine whether a marriage was legal and above-board. Given the vast range of marriage customs (broomstick wedding, anyone?) and

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-89321613156957761252009-12-30T14:24:00.000-08:002009-12-30T14:55:51.651-08:00

This is the Ritz-Carleton Hotel in Philadelphia, the site of one of my MLA interviews. There were six interviewers, including the chair of the department and an interested graduate student. There was one interviewee triumphantly wearing her MLA suit, thanks to the MLA air diet.Here's a sampling of the best interview advice I received this year:1. Don't forget to sparkle.2. Don't forget to breathe

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-14892425459179222842009-12-27T09:16:00.000-08:002009-12-27T09:36:02.606-08:00

Both definitions of fugue were in full force on Christmas night as I was packing suit variations for the Modern Language Association's annual post-Christmas convention in Philadelphia. The trick is to figure out how to stretch one's limited supply of professional clothing as long as possible--crucial if one plans to wander around the streets and hotels of downtown Philly for more than two

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-57268745968332645512009-12-14T18:28:00.000-08:002009-12-24T15:50:01.287-08:00

These are my grandmother's favorite Christmas cookies. A basic butter cookie with an orange-honey glaze, the dough is very pleasing to put together because of the scent that lingers on your fingers from the fresh orange juice and grated orange peel. They are then dressed with a honey-orange glaze and topped with chopped walnuts. I cannot reproduce the recipe here, because it's a family secret.

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-89769652021979451202009-10-11T21:12:00.001-07:002010-05-30T17:17:37.254-07:00

Um... WHAT is happening here?I innocently enter one of those Hudson Booksellers shops in the airport (um, Fresno? Sacramento? LAX? can't remember--there have been many airports in the past two months), and am confronted with this confusing display. Is that... my favorite novel? All sexed up like so? Right next to that monumental work of genius Big Girls Don't Cry? Alphabetization is definitely

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-57586115607812927782009-08-25T10:28:00.000-07:002009-08-25T10:42:00.282-07:00

I keep forgetting to call my reader's attention to this other blog post that I actually got paid to do. Check out my list of cinematic adaptations of nineteenth-century stories for Amazon.com.(here I am at Yale in November 2008 with David Francis' rare, working triunial magic lantern... that's how the Victorians experienced "moving pictures"...)

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-80597463805433998292009-08-24T22:01:00.000-07:002009-08-25T09:05:40.992-07:00

1. "Julie Powell" was too thin for someone so frequently and loudly lauding butter: if Renee Zellweger can gain weight to become Bridget Jones, so can Amy Adams. I'm assuming Julie Powell really did gain some weight from her year of culinary experimentation, though I have not and likely will not read her book.2. That brings me to point number two: I'd rather read My Life in France. After watching

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-60287829001443190692009-08-20T21:33:00.000-07:002009-08-25T09:07:09.877-07:00

This is a true story. The other evening after work, I put my pajamas on and went into the backyard to pick blackberries. Encouraged by the yield on the backyard bush, I went around to the front yard to pluck juicy ripe berries from the prickly bush on the parking strip. Was I giving my neighbors a little demonstration? Yes. Did I care? No. Well, not until it started raining and I realized I was

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-68781850016003528732009-08-04T22:10:00.000-07:002009-08-04T22:59:38.372-07:00

This recipe is from the vault. Actually it's from Epicurious.com, but I made it this last May for my favorite Russian Redneck. It's dazzling: the pralines are quick-n-easy, the cake layers are packed with pecan pieces, the cake stays moist from lots of bourbon, and the frosting is fabulous.First, the praline topping:Who knew that tossing pecan pieces with egg whites and brown sugar and baking

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-2585055927753769612009-04-16T17:47:00.000-07:002009-04-16T18:55:25.853-07:00

Having just sent off the final (we hope) revisions of my article, "Novel Conceptualizations of the Modern Housewife in Colonial North India," to South Asian Review, I find myself with a little free time on my hands. What else can I do but build the sort of one-pot meal that magically multiplies into dinners for several people for several days in a row? Apparently there's a long tradition of

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-56891007092148894842009-04-01T15:19:00.000-07:002009-04-01T15:40:13.171-07:00

I just found out I'm not the first person to use the title "I am my own wife." According to her autobiography, Charlotte von Mahlsdorf shares my mania for aprons. There's even been a Pulitzer Prize-winning play written about her. The Tony Award-winning play was performed in New York in 2004 and in Seattle in 2008.If it seems like I am link happy right now it's because I googled my own blog and

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-2537923033234469392009-03-31T12:27:00.000-07:002009-03-31T14:44:20.493-07:00

I have been reading Sally Mitchell's study Dinah Mulock Craik (1983), part of Twayne's English Author Series. Mitchell's short book provides a brief biography of Dinah Mulock Craik and introduces her works more by detailed description than by literary analysis. The book is a fast read and offers an excellent introduction to an under-valued mid-Victorian woman author.Dinah Mulock Craik has not

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-79663514813265646392009-03-10T13:39:00.000-07:002009-03-10T19:09:12.028-07:00

My current research indicates that the lonely hearts advertisement has been circulating since the late seventeenth century: the practice of advertising for a spouse is about as old as newspapers themselves. Not surprisingly, the criteria for mate selection are quite different for men and women.Men wish to be domesticated by beauty or money:WANTED a WIFE, by a handsome young FARMER who is desirous

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-72239151787844129592009-03-02T19:15:00.000-08:002009-03-02T21:08:58.107-08:00

These recipes are both a tribute to my mother and a departure.Tonight at Trader Joe's, I had the rare fortune of witnessing a small boy interacting with the bag of frozen peas that he'd just made his boon companion. This child was entertaining himself and his slightly older brother (while their mother blithely shopped on) by ecstatically smothering his face with the bag of frozen peas, alternated

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-83261499401258741222009-02-02T21:11:00.000-08:002009-02-04T23:45:29.645-08:00

Nelly clearly had something gustatory on his mind when he penned the luscious tune "Apple Bottom Jeans." This recipe is definitely dedicated to those fine gals who wear the boots with the fur. (Who is this Shorty, anyway? "Could we all be Shorty?" she asks hopefully.)Apple Bread1 cup flour1/2 cup oat flour1 tsp cinnamon1/2 tsp salt1/4 tsp powder1/4 tsp nutmeg1 beaten egg1 cup sugar1 1/2 cups

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-44796486742635103882009-01-08T13:16:00.000-08:002009-01-08T21:48:04.995-08:00

dLike the gals at GoFugYourself.com, I find Anne Hathaway intriguing. She went from princess to topless and then recovered by Becoming Jane and Agent 99 almost in the same breath. Of course I was going to see Rachel Getting Married, the film in which Hathaway plays an "anti-princess" according to the screenwriter Jenny Lumet's NPR interview. And I finally have seen it, and I have three things to

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-78129613079166530052008-12-18T15:51:00.000-08:002008-12-20T17:02:46.201-08:00

SPOILER ALERT!!"Lat den ratte komma in" is the latest vampire film offering from Sweden, land of the really immortal Ingmar Bergman whose death in July 2007 we ought all to still be mourning (note to self: watch Bille August's "The Best Intentions" again soon). A bold move on director Thomas Alfredson's part, to release a tweenybopper fang flick only one month prior to the launch of the "Twilight

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-40674146859560891002008-12-02T15:58:00.000-08:002008-12-19T00:58:04.345-08:00

Check out this insightful old post on getcrafty.com ("home of the craftistas") on feminism and domesticity! I agree with much written therein, except unlike the author I love to iron. Then there's this oldie-but-goodie on "New Domesticity," questioning whether it's just another form of patriarchal captivity...

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-75426901337302600882008-11-28T10:36:00.000-08:002008-11-28T11:49:28.159-08:00

After the annual Turkey Trot around Greenlake to raise money for Farm Sanctuary yesterday morning, I hosted the annual Seattle Fam turkey-free Thanksgiving at my house. When folks discover we're having a vegetarian Thanksgiving the common response is an incredulous "But what do you eat?" My response to that inanity is, "What do we not eat!" "Let me be quite clear: this holiday is not "difficult"

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-79390317789493469132008-11-23T20:13:00.000-08:002008-11-23T21:06:04.149-08:00

I had the pleasure of visiting New Haven, CT and Yale University for the North American Victorian Studies (NAVSA) conference last week.While I was there, my housemate,--and this is her: --who occasionally fancies she's my husband, panicked and demanded I come home to make dinner. Rather smugly, I told her she'd find chunky winter vegetable soup in the freezer. It's amazing with toasted

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-31051572518728355622008-10-26T06:47:00.000-07:002008-10-26T14:00:30.569-07:00

Women on-the-go need sustenance. Since I take lunch to work most days of the week, I decided to make this lovely fall the Fall of the Casserole.I started last week with a Broccoli Casserole, adapting the recipefrom The Vegetarian Times Complete Cookbook.This recipe looks like it could be straight from my childhood, except that my mother was not a granola-crunching hippie. Sure, as a busy lady my

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-31423996659825932782008-09-22T19:07:00.000-07:002008-10-26T13:35:34.911-07:00

At one point in Diane English’s debut film “The Women” (based on a 1939 film adaptation of Clare Booth Luce’s 1936 play), Sylvia (Annette Bening) explains why she’s not interested in marriage: “I am the man I want to marry.” Out of context, such a line would seem to make this movie a promising contribution to this blog’s main query—what if we were to detach the role of wife (or husband for that

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-45856435713489255652008-09-11T09:10:00.001-07:002008-09-12T08:02:58.207-07:00

Vegetable Cheese Strata is a sort of "everything but the kitchen sink" dish. I clean out the fridge making it, plus it's a tasty way to use up the stale remainders of the "good bread" (a.k.a. artisan) from the Tall Grass Bakery in Ballard or Essential Baking Company in Fremont.The night before your Breakfast of Champions, saute together in butter/olive oil the following:1.5 cups mix of chopped

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-33163335816859042532008-09-08T22:30:00.000-07:002008-09-08T23:09:52.392-07:00

The WeddingI've been reading an article called "The Advertising System" from the Edinburgh Review (February 1843). The author's general complaint is that folks resort to all kinds of gimmicks, scams, and untruths to sell their products. Then he turns to matrimonial ads and, once again, Victorian England becomes totally fascinating from an anthropological perspective. Check it out:'WANTED --A

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3863075854942548864.post-75791324270013785172008-09-06T20:18:00.000-07:002008-09-06T21:18:16.944-07:00

This afternoon I needed a break from the article I'm currently working on: "Lady Montagu's Smokers' Pastils and The Graphic: Advertising the Harem in the Home." I decided I'd had enough of theorizing about an anachronistic celebrity endorsement used to sell floral breath lozenges to genteel Victorian ladies. So I went to Seattle Tilth's Harvest Fair. Look at some of the beauties I picked up:

My Own Wifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08367887151473958902noreply@blogger.com2