In the morning I did a load of laundry and hung it out on the line. I clean the aquarium, watered the pots outside, cleaned out the car a little, swept dog hair out of the basement and mopped. Then, after lunch I drove to Delaware to pick my niece up from school and was reminded that I really want to be out on the water sculling again. Harriet is my coxswain and I can hear her saying to me, “What are you doing with your life?”
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Baltimore, Thursday. April 30, 1896
Miss Margaret Biays, daughter of Mr. George Biays, was married last night to Mr. Charles E. Howard, son of Mr. R. M. Howard, of My lady’s Manor, Baltimore County.
The ceremony was performed at the home of the bride’s mother, Mrs. James Lawson, 1200 McCulloh street, by Rev. Charles A. Jessup, assistant at old St. Paul’s Protestant Episcopal Church. The bride wore a gown of Dresden silk, trimmed with point lace, and carried Marechal Neil roses. She was attended by Misses Emily Quinlan, of Baltimore County, and Margaret Malon. The groom was attended by Messrs. Tolley Biays, brother of the bride, and Charles Quinlan.
A reception followed, after which the couple left for their future home at My Lady’s Manor.
Need a name for a race horse? How about Marechal Rose?
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excerpt from Historic Graves of Maryland and the District of Columbia
Helen W. Ridgely
“My Lady’s Manor,” a term still used by the farmers of the locality, was a tract of 10,000 acres given by Charles, Lord Baltimore, in the year 1713 to his wife Margaret. At her death in 1731, it passed to his granddaughter, whose husband’s debts were the ultimate cause of its disintegration. This was before the division of Baltimore county. The settlers of kindred blood came pouring in and when the separation occurred, a part of “My Lady’s Manor” lay on one side of the border and the rest on the other. (107)
To sum up: The weather was glorious, Wiley and Bonnie brought a beautiful smoked salmon from Baltimore and it was warm enough to have drinks on the porch, dinner was delicious, and Will won the kids’ egg hunt with 265.5 eggs. Louie never got too far, for too long from el tractor, except for quick trips to get Ariel’s fruit kabobs. Now, saving the dishes for tomorrow and getting in bed with a book. Happy Easter, everyone. Thank you, Katy.
Now I wait to see how my lambs did at the market on Monday. The tuition for the girls’ school next year is due soon. I take care of sheep to the best of my ability and they will take care of me, as it should be. A couple of weeks ago, a seven-year old had dinner at our house and with one bite of lamb her eyes got big and she announced to everyone at the table that what she had just eaten was the most delicious bite she had ever had. That is also as it should be. ~grateful farmer
In a wardrobe, in a drawer, in a closed cloth bag were odd pieces of rope and string, most of it of sturdy plant fibers, some of it cotton or smooth linen, and a couple of long lengths that look as if they must be hair. Much too fine to be horse hair. It looks and feels like dark, blond, human hair. We were only surprised for a second. Can you imagine living in a world where there was time to give value to even those soapy hairs pulled out of the shower drain? Don’t just answer right away that of course that is not how you would want to spend your time, if you had time to spare. The hair rope is still here.