Author: Leenie Brown

Leenie Brown fell in love with Jane Austen's works when she first read Sense and Sensibility followed immediately by Pride and Prejudice in her early teens. As the second of five daughters and an avid reader, she has always loved to see where her imagination takes her and to play with and write about the characters she meets along the way. In 2013, these two loves collided when she stumbled upon the world of Jane Austen Fan Fiction. A year later, in 2014, she began writing her own Austen-inspired stories and began publishing them in 2015. Leenie lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two teenage boys and her very own Mr. Brown (a wonderful mix of all the best of Darcy, Bingley and Edmund with healthy dose of the teasing Mr. Tillney and just a dash of the scolding Mr. Knightley).

Old Clapham Church, London 1750

Old Clapham Church, London 1750

~*~*~

“Miss Tolson?”  From a window in the church, Philip Dobney had seen the lady enter the graveyard and was worried when she had stayed for so long.  For the past few minutes, he had been watching her weep from the window as the sermon he had been practising sat neglected on a pew a few feet away. He knew that grief was a demanding master who ran roughshod over many, sometimes, leading them to consider all sorts of things they would not have considered when in a happier state.  And it was always strongest at first, so he knew that Lucy’s grief was great.  It had been but a few days since Mr. Tolson had been buried.  It was the first service of that sort which he had performed since accepting the living here in Kympton.

[from And Then Love]

~*~*~

Leenie B Books

KOBO    AMAZON     NOOK     IBOOKS     MAILING LIST    PATREON    SOCIETY6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Metaphorical Lemon Puffs

The recipe for Lemon Puffs as it appears in The English Art of Cooking by Richard Briggs, printed in 1798.

Recipe Capture

I chose this recipe thinking it would represent Austen’s Fools.  You know ─ the characters who seem all that is charming but turn out to be. . .well. . .not so nice.  I thought the sugar could represent their charm and the sourness of the lemons could represent those parts of their character they wished to keep hidden.  Little did I realize how this experiment was going to truly show me their characters.

I followed the recipe as it was written except for one small change.  I found whipping the eggs and sugar by hand to be something I was not capable of doing for half an hour.  Though I did persevere for more than half of that time, I finished the half hour using an electric hand mixer.

After the half hour of mixing, the egg and sugar mixture was thick but no overly so.  I questioned the addition of three beaten eggs, but since the recipe said to add them, I did.  Perhaps I had done something wrong, but my mixture became quite runny as I suspected it would.  Still I continued.  I dropped small drops on a parchment lined pan and baked them.  The results were not unlike the Austen characters who seem so promising but leave disappointment in their wake.  As the small drops baked, they ran together and flattened out…there was no puff in my lemon puffs.  How disappointing!

They seemed to lack substance ─ does that sound like some of those rather shallow Austen Fools?

So what is a lady to do when met with such disappointment?  Go looking for a Colonel Brandon, of course.  Or in the case of my lemon puffs, search the kitchen for ingredients which might have been found in a regency kitchen.

20150314_235252_zpsqxjjhktcTo my runny, disappointing lemon puff mixture, I added. . .

  • 3 1/2 t. baking powder (I do not know if they had this back then, and perhaps baking soda would have worked just as well or better since there was an acid, the lemon juice, in the batter already.)
  • 1 1/2 c. almond flour
  • 1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour

I then dropped the much more substantial batter onto parchment lined pans and baked.  I wish I could tell you precisely how long I baked them, but I can’t since I forgot to set the timer, and the oven was accidentally turned off during the baking of one pan.  My best guess is they took about 13 minutes to bake at 350°F.  And, in the words of my dear husband who endured the grumbling that went along with this baking experiment, the results were “surprisingly delicious”─crisp on the outside and soft and cake-like on the inside.

This makes me wonder. . .can an Austen Fool be made into something less disappointing?  Now there’s something to ponder while enjoying a lemon cookie with a cup of tea.

 

 

 


A Change of Heart

pablo (4)About a week ago on a snow day, I sat down with my computer and decided to take part in a playground challenge at A Happy Assembly (a JAFF forum).  The topic was grovelling and making amends.  I thought about that horrible scene in Pride and Prejudice where Darcy’s proposal is firmly refused.  I decided to give a unique reason to Elizabeth for her burst of anger and harsh words.

It is snowing again today, but I am at school and not home.  Traffic was horrid, and I was late.  I ended up filling in for a colleague and had part of a class taken for fundraiser.  I am feeling rather growly, so I decided to share Elizabeth and Darcy’s story of what happened after the refusal but before Darcy could leave the parsonage.

A small bit of understanding, a kind word, a small gesture is sometimes all it takes to go from grumbly to contented…to have

A Change of Heart

“Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”  Darcy turned to leave.

Elizabeth saw the hunch in his shoulders and the slight shake of his head.  Was he deriding himself?  Had she truly heard pain behind his anger?  Her emotions threatened to overcome her, and without a thought, she called out to him.

Continue reading A Change of Heart


The Refrigerator Door: The Battle of Valcoast

I am sure you have seen it–the refrigerator door that proudly displays the work of a child or grandchild.  I remember having my refrigerator’s door covered in demonstrations of my children’s ability at art or schoolwork, although it has been a few years since then.  As they have gotten older, there has been less and less to display and less and less enthusiasm to have it displayed.  It’s part of growing up, I suppose, but every now and again, I miss that cluttered door.  So, today, this post is a refrigerator door post.

Below is an epic poem written by my son for his English class.  He has not yet received his marks on this poem, so I am not posting it because I am proud of his grade.  I am posting it because I am proud of the young man he is becoming.  I remember when writing anything creative was torturous.  I spent many hours sitting next to him working on sentence structure and helping him see where more detail could be added to make his writing more interesting.  Now, as evidenced by this poem, he produces fine work without my assistance.

The Battle of Valcoast

From deep within the mountain in the dark and doleful dungeon

Awakens the attendant of awesome volcano spoils

In the village of Valcoast the vale of mountain quakes

For the mighty dragon of Wildebarrow met the warrior of disaster

With a great roar the guardian takes flight on giant wings of gales

And spreads fire to the forest around the fenlands near Valcoast

The Valcoast guardwatch sounds the alarm to alert all

Of the accelerated approach of danger that is the agile dragon

Men at arms blunder out of barracks to behold an awesome sight

For the dragon of death was descending on their village

Flames spew forth from the maw of the dragon

To ravage the robust rosewood ramparts of the stout village perimeter

Above the noise of the igneous inferno could be heard an intimidating sound

For many warrior warrigals from Wildebarrow’s void had been woken

By the dragon to wage war against the warrior of disaster

Atop of the keep tower the disaster-hero took his position

To do battle with the dreadful dragon of death

With mighty sword and mighty shield the magnificent disaster-warrior fought

And though the warrior was the strongest of men the dragon was stronger still

For with one colossal claw the dragon cleaved his shield in two

Though the hero had lost his shield he fought back hard-as-nails

And cut off the colossal claw on the mighty dragon’s paw

All the while the hero fought many fighters were fighting still

For below in the village a huge battle broke out between many warriors and warrigals

The battle was bleak and there was much bloodshed that day

But the garrison of Valcoast won the battle and there were many bellows of victory

The cries were cut short as from far above they heard the clash of a sword

The hero was still on top of the tower trying to slay the beastly basilisk

Hours went by but there was no sign of stopping as the dragon and hero were well balanced

Finally with one mighty swing of his sword the hero struck the dragon’s scruff

And with one final tremendous roar the dastardly harbinger of death was defeated

Many songs were sung that day of the successful battle

And of the warrior’s fight against the dragon and warrigals of Wildebarrow.