Monday 31st December 1807

Dear Diary,
Mr Ashforth has given me crabs! A package arrived this very morning, which he must have sent from the coast as he embarked for the Continent with Titus Canby. An attached note read ' A small token of my esteem'. I went straight to the Scullery and said " Mrs Crutchlow, Mr Ashforth has given me crabs. How would you deal with them?" She flushed for a moment and wrung her hands in her apron before replying, "Well Mr Austen, Sir, I would use a lotion." I was taken aback somewhat and said " I would have guessed boiling water but I bow to your expertise, Mrs Crutchlow" and handed her the package. I went into the garden for some air and came upon Ned finishing off his ornate covered seat beneath the large Beech tree. I complimented him on his magnificent erection and said I was very much looking forward to taking advantage of it when the weather improved. Ned is a good fellow and I must say, keen to better himself. I know he reads and often tries to impress with his growing lexicon. This morning, he informed me that Farmer Clamp has replaced his 'diseased' cock. I believe he meant 'deceased', yet I did not comment upon it and left him happy with his crevice tool. I encountered Titty Clamp in the lane and said I had heard news of her father's cock and enquired if he was content with it? She said he appeared to be and stated I would be very welcome to view it if the fancy took me. I shall now spend much of the day alone with my thoughts and look hopefully towards the coming New Year, oh and yes, there are the crabs to finish off later.

Sunday 30th December 1807

Dear Diary,
So much has occurred in so little time. On Friday I visited upon Mr Fairweather and we ventured to Neston to meet up with some gentlemen acquantances of his. I was very nervous. As you know I am fond of and used to balls and the social intercourse that ensues throughout the night but I have never been invited into a gentleman's clique and wander from hostelry to inn cavorting and carousing for an evening. I am also not one who normally indulges in alcoholic beverages but on this occasion my apprehension at not fitting into the clique spurred me on to cast aside my inhibitions. I did drink and cavort and carouse and it was a very merry eve indeed. Mr Fairweather and I became better acquainted and I found his friends most agreeable. I confess, only to you, that I came to feel more for Mr Fairweather than a usual friendship. We returned to his residence in the early hours but I was unable to sleep with the events, experiences and sights of the night spinning about my head. I returned home the next morning to happily find Mrs Norris gone but there was news from Mr Ashforth contained in an epistle waiting upon the mantle. He had spent much of the festive period with his old acquantance Titus Canby and he was to tour abroad with him and he did not see any occasion in the future where he would be at liberty to call upon me again. I cannot say I was greatly disturbed by this news as my head in recent days has been filled with another. As if summoned by the fates Mr Fairweather called upon me in the afternoon as I had absent-mindedly forgotten an article of clothing, how careless of me, and he came to return it. I told him of Mr Ashforth's epistle and the events therein and he was most empathetic. I took a deep breath and revealed my true feelings for him. I was aware that I was at risk of him leaving me for ever but I have been taught to believe that honesty is of the greatest importance especially when it comes to affairs of the heart. Mr Fairweather was equally honest and, looking me in the eyes, said he could not reciprocate but cherished our friendship and hoped it would continue.
I have no one to discuss and share these matters with, except you. I ardently hope I can hold onto Mr Fairweather's friendship, accept only his friendship and that my revelation will not change his opinion of me. Time will tell. Enough. My eyes are filling and I do not wish to blot you.

Friday 28th December 1807

Dear Diary,
Be still, my beating heart. Wish me luck.

Thursday 27th December 1807

Dear Diary,
I fear I have eaten too much again. Each year I always vow to eat in moderation but fail magnificently. I ventured out for a ride upon Cobbler's Knob. Once atop, I was greatly troubled by wind. I cannot remember the last time I was blown so. I returned to the Grange and was informed that I had missed Mr Fairweather who had called upon me. It was not bad news though. He has invited me to call upon him tomorrow and we are to spend an evening out in the local hostelries with some gentlemen acquaintances of his. I must confess I am a little apprehensive and hope that I shall fit into his manly clique.

Tuesday 25th December 1807

Dear Diary,

Christmas in the bosom of one's family is a great joy, but I fear when it includes Mrs Norris's bosom also, it is a bosom too far. I expect many a young lady would have been happy to wake up this morning with a small portion of the bosom that woman greedily possesses. It is a great shame and mystery to me why that awful pug that is permanently clasped to her breast, is not suffocated. She remained in her room yesterday and did not take part in the searching for, collection and lighting of the Yule log. She did not even accompany us to the Chapel to attend the Midnight service. Miss Lott was upon the Parson's organ and I surmise it was she who I overheard practising last week.

Mrs Norris ventured down this morning as we gathered around the tree to exchange gifts. Her nose was still quite swollen from the goose attack, and I do declare my gift of a lace handkerchief was a joyous and delightfully inappropriate gift under the circumstances. Not even her gift of hand knitted stockings, (and I trust it was not by her hand), could dampen the glow I felt inside. Mrs Crutchlow lay on a magnificent feast, although Mrs Norris did not partake of the goose. I write now upon my bed and I ache from mastication. My final thoughts of the day are of Mr Fairweather, wherever and whoever he is with. I hope he has had a Happy Christmas and can only hope that his final thoughts might be of me.

Sunday 23rd December 1807

Dear Diary,
I have had an early Christmas present sent by the happy and joyous fates who have smiled down on me today. I rose reluctantly and descended to face a day in close proximity to Mrs Norris and her rodent. By noon my face was aching through maintaining a fixed smile whenever she discovered my various hiding places. I am certain there is Blood Hound blood in her and I can only surmise as to how it got there. Whilst she was "entertaining" me, this afternoon, with her thrilling tales of ' Cushions I have embroidered', we espied Titty Clamp approaching up the drive, fetching the goose for the Christmas feast. Mrs Norris was keen to examine it at close quarters and so we ventured into the Scullery. Mrs Crutchlow bristled as Mrs Norris swept in and I noticed she tightened her grip on the cleaver she was brandishing. Mrs Norris approached the bird lying limply upon the table top and prodded it's breast and let out a disappointed tut! I cannot say whether it was the prod, the tut or the bark of the beast clutched to Mrs Norris's expansive breast that did it, but at that moment, to everyone's amazement, the bird came to life and began to flap frantically. Mrs Norris stepped back with a scream , flinging her arms wide and I saw the pug fly through the air and land in a large pot of onion soup upon the stove. The bird had regained it's feet and flew at Mrs Norris and latched onto her nose with it's beak. I have never heard such a commotion, Mrs Norris's screams, the yelps of her pug swimming in the pot, the goose and a variety of new and interesting words that emanated from Mrs Crutchlow's direction. At that moment the outside door opened and Ned stepped in upon the scene. He quickly jumped back out closely pursued by Mrs Norris, who had seen a means of escape, and the angry goose and then Mrs Crutchlow and her cleaver. How I have laughed since at the sight of Mrs Norris, skirts hitched up hobbling across the lawn being chased by the goose and Mrs Crutchlow with a cleaver. They passed poor Titty, returning home, who stood aghast at the sight. The evening has been dull in comparison, and Fanny, Jane and I have had to avoid each others gaze for fear of erupting into raucous tittering. Mrs Norris is retired to her room and Mother is comforting her. The Pug is abed also and as subdued as I have ever seen it. The goose is plucked and hanging in the larder. There was no soup at dinner.

Saturday 22nd December 1807

Dear Diary,
We are returned from Netherton. Such an eve of thespic delights, the costumes, the scenery and the smell of grease paint, all brought back my desire to tread the boards myself once more. My Dick (Whittington) is legendary in these parts and is oft talked of amongst those who have been lucky enough to see it. I was able to acquaint my family with Mr Ashforth's Goolies who were also in attendance. Father had booked rooms at the Inn for the night but I scarcely slept due to all the unfamiliar creaks and groans that ensued throughout the night. I shall have to have to retire earlier tonight in compensation. The weather has turned milder and the frost that has been ever present this past week has thawed. As I sit now, I am watching a Robin on the ivy outside my window. He is singing a merry tune and no doubt overjoyed himself that the frost has gone....oh, he is away, panicked by the approach of a carriage. Heaven help us, Mrs Norris is come!

Friday 21st December 1807

Dear Diary,
I am quite moist with excitement and anticipation. Mother and Father have surprised us with tickets to see some travelling Thespians in Netherton. We are to leave this afternoon and return tomorrow. Adieu.

Thursday 20th December 1807

Dear Diary,
I remained abed for much of the morn and took great pleasure from my indolence. When I finally arose, I went to my water closet to refresh myself and returned to my bedchamber removing my nightshirt as I went. It was only when it was completely off that I noticed the face peering in at my casement window. It transpired that Father had asked a fellow from the village to clean the windows. I know not, who was the more surprised, but I saw the fellow trying hard to suppress a smirk as he looked askance. Later this afternoon, whilst out taking some air, I became aware of the unmistakable sound of someone tinkering with the Parson's organ as I approached the Chapel through the naked trees. I was not aware he was so free with his instrument and my dander was up. I contemplated sneaking through the vestry to peek upon the instrumentalist but returned home and found solace in Mrs Crutchlow's larder.

Wednesday 19th December 1807

Dear Diary,
I thought I was going to have to forego my weekly practice upon the Parson's organ as Ned informed me, after breakfast, that Farmer Clamp had asked him to assist in, dare I write it, inseminating a couple of ewes and he was unavailable for pumping. I was quite melancholy at the news but by some great fortune I chanced upon Mr Fairweather in the woods, whilst I was exercising Father's Willie. He was glad to pump whilst my fingers made merry and indeed Mr Fairweather said he had never seen such nimble fingers or seen an organ played so. I must confess it was not only my chest that swelled with pride but my head also. I did not think it appropriate for Willie to accompany us into church. I am sure The Lord loves all his creatures great and small but I doubt he would be amused if a small creature urinated by his altar, thus I tied Father's Willie to a gravestone outside. ( No one of note, I might add, just some old fellow from Cobbler's Bottom who died of the plague). Imagine then, if you may, my great consternation when we emerged to find Father's Willie vanished with nought but a steaming cluster of dottles to show he had been there. For a moment I felt quite faint but Mr Fairweather girded his magnificent loins and set off following the puppy's tracks which were faintly visible upon the frosty ground. We had not gone far when we came upon Farmer Clamp's daughter Titty, and there was Father's Willie nestled at her breast. It was a great relief and I thanked her most kindly. Mr Fairweather could not accompany me back to the Grange and so I alone, enjoyed Mrs Crutchlow's hot muffins. Such a day! I feel quite exhausted at the drama of it.

Tuesday 18th December 1807

Dear Diary,
How festive the house is looking and Mrs Crutchlow is busy most of the day creating all manner of sumptuous seasonal delights. I make the most of every opportunity and create false justifications for venturing into the scullery to sample her wares and nibble when she is inattentive. Ned brought in a fine brace of Woodcock whilst I was there this very afternoon. There is nothing finer than the taste of Woodcock to my mind. Father has begun to train his delightfully playful Willie to follow simple commands, though I must disclose little success thus far and I fear there is still a certain amount of random leakage about the house. The little mite will insist on teasing Fanny's Tuppence. Miss Noring and Miss Lott called this evening to thank Fanny for her help in preparing for their soiree yesterday. Their guests had remarked on their fine baps, and they were all in the parlour engaged in serious social intercourse when Father appeared and boomed "Leave Fanny's pussy alone!" Miss Lott screamed and Miss Noring and Fanny leapt to their feet in surprise and both were extremely flushed and red faced with shock, but laughed with relief when they realised Father was referring to his bothersome Willie which was needling Fanny's cat.

Monday 17th December 1807

Dear Diary,
How cold it is! I am constantly ashiver! I have spent much of the day warming my cockles by the fire and grateful of Mrs Crutchlow's hot broth. I have remained industrious by writing seasonal epistles to distant friends and my wrist is quite limp with the exertion. Fanny's wrists are equally aching, though she has been kneading baps down at Cobbler's End in the company of Miss Lott and Miss Noring who are expecting guests this evening. I have seen nothing of Mr Fairweather, though he is often on my mind and I wonder how he is engaged these frosty days. I hope his cockles are warm. Mrs Norris is to come for Christmas. I wonder, only to you, if Mrs Crutchlow knows how to stuff a pug!

Friday 14th December 1807

Dear Diary,
Nothing of great consequence or importance has occurred since I last fingered my quill. The Christmas season is approaching apace and I have scarcely had time for social intercourse. On Tuesday Ned assisted me in searching for a suitable tree for the parlour and on Thursday, after a spirited and festive session upon the Parson's organ, he accompanied me to Farmer Clamp's to pick out a goose. Ned certainly knows how to appreciate a finely formed bird whereas I confess I have no inclination in that area. I am sure when we finally fetch it from the farm that Mrs Crutchlow will be glad to stuff it.

Monday 10th December 1807

Dear Diary,
Forgive me my absence but I have been otherwise engaged. I must confess I believe Mr Pratt's balls to be somewhat overestimated. I had been looking forward to attending with much anticipation but found it lacking in atmosphere as his countenance lacks a chin. He was quite attentive to Fanny until she drew him aside and informed him that she would and could not return his affections and entreated him to pursue a more persuadable suitor. I fear they shall also have to be blind and without taste whatsoever. Poor Jane was shadowed by the limping Mr Scrote. I thought at one moment she had been careless with her wine but it transpired it was dribble on her shoulder and not her own. Mr Ashforth enjoyed the spectacle immensely and I was almost forgotten. He spent much of the evening guffawing with Titus Canby. I shall say no more on the matter. Miss Honey Pott was also in attendance and Mrs Norris contrived to bring us together at every opportunity. She is dainty on her feet; I refer to Miss Potts and not Mrs Norris, who looked like an overstuffed badger in her black and white gown. All talk was of the recent engagement of Miss Emma Chisett to Justin Nuth. They are to live in the North. May God help them! It was a great relief to return to Thrushcock Grange and I vow to avoid Mr Pratt's balls hereafter.
Mr Ashforth departed Saturday morning. My farewell was not as effusive as my greeting. I know not when I shall see him again. I hurried to the pond in the hope of chancing upon Mr Fairweather but he was not there. However, how happy I was to come across him in the woods, after Chapel on Sunday, and we spent a day of delightful conversation. I have invited him up to the Grange at his earliest convenience. I wonder if he would like to become acquainted with Blind Man in the Buff?

Thursday 6th December 1807

Dear Diary,
Such weather! When I stepped in a puddle atop the stairs this morning in my stocking feet I supposed the roof to have sprung a leak. Consider then, my relief and horror when I discovered that the leak had not, as supposed, come from the roof but from Father's Willie! Jane was most amused and Mr Ashforth roared so much he had to quickly attend his chamber pot before another leak occurred. We remained in the parlour much of the day and played Blind Man's Bluff. I was somewhat surprised when Mr Ashforth suggested we continue to play after my sister's had departed but came to appreciate its appeal. We are all eager to experience one of Mr Pratt's balls tomorrow and retired early... yet, Mr Ashforth desired to introduce me to a variation of our earlier game, he called Blind Man in the Buff that he had discovered in Greece and therefore we did not retire as early as intended.

Wednesday 5th December 1807

Dear Diary,
I am quite wearied in my desire to keep Mr Ashforth stimulated. I earnestly crave him to look back on his time at Thrushcock Grange with affection. We forsook playing upon the Parson's organ for a lengthy constitutional and for the most part the weather was kind. This evening we have practised our Cotillion and Scotch Reel and Mr Ashforth is indeed an accomplished dancer with much experience of balls. I confess I trampled Fanny's foot a number of times but she remained serene and composed. I have come to my chamber early and left him in the parlour. He is quite taken by Fanny's Tuppence and spends much of his evening stroking her.

Monday 3rd December 1807

Dear Diary,
I am quite exhausted with a surfeit of hard riding this past weekend. The journey to Netherton was through a storm, the like of which I have never seen. I can only liken it to riding through a waterfall for four hours. On arrival at the residence of Mr Ashforth's Goolies there was not a dry inch upon me nor in my saddle bag and after very quick introductions I was whisked up to the guest chamber to change into dry attire loaned by my good friend. When comfortable once more I returned to the sitting room and an evening of pleasant intercourse ensued. I am very much taken by these Goolies, large and small. Mr Ashforth and I remained as long as was polite before retiring to my bed chamber where we engaged in rigorous badinage until the early hours. I cannot tell you how my heart soared to be once more in my good friends company and I finally heard tell of how he came to eat beaver in the Canadian wastes. On Sunday, we accompanied the Goolies to Chapel and after a sumptuous repast, bad farewell and returned to Thrushcock Grange. Mr Ashforth has a great deal of riding experience and I had to ride hard to keep at his rear. How pleasing it is to have Mr Ashforth in the comfort of my own home. I am so glad Mr Ashforth has finally come!

Saturday 1st December 1807

Dear Diary,
December is upon us. How time flies. I ventured to the pond to fish once more this morn and came upon the Huntsman who had admired my rod last weekend. He is a Mr Fairweather from a place called Morley, staying with friends in the vicinity. He also was handling a magnificent rod and we compared length and stoutness. What an agreeable fellow he is and the morning past with a swiftness I have not known in recent weeks. I had to take my leave of him to return to the Grange after a time. We parted on good terms and hope to rendezvous once more at our earliest convenience. He expressed a desire to show me a ruined cottage he had found hereabouts.
Now I must away to Netherton to acquaint myself with Mr Ashforth's Goolies. I hope I find them pleasant.