Ah, so months have passed since any of us have taken time to notice the old, neglected journal that chronicals our days and lives, and the heart of Gibson Manor. It’s not a wonder. Life has changed for so many of us, all at once, and I think the dust is still swirling.

There’s much to say, but so little time, thus I must lay aside our little journal in hopes that another will pick it up and record in it the many memories of the passing days.

As for me, I must go pack my trunks, and complete my wedding plans, for there are but twenty four days left and I shall change my name. I shall change my home, and almost everything about my life and start the work I have always wanted to do more than anything. Yet, in all the changing, I rather think that I will stay the same, changed perhaps in little ways, but the same inside… and always a Gibson Girl.

I am happy, so perfectly happy. Yet it is the Good Byes that bring the tiniest tint of bitterness to my heart.

But, these things are small in consequence with the rest of life, so I set down this journal. Time will tell when I will pick it up again, and what I will write.

It seems like I turn to this journal often of late. Sometimes writing is the best way to relieve the mind of the many things that tumble and jumble through it. So much has been on mine, it’s not a wonder the journal is getting worn on the edges already.

This week I was asked to step up from my little position at work and to take a supervisor position. The very thought of being in charge, of telling what suddenly seems like a multitude of other girls what to do and when, of answering hard questions and being the calm, quick and efficient lady at the head scares me down to my toes, but something in me loves a challenge, so I take a deep breath and plunge ahead. Let’s hope I survive this Christmas Season, when the halls are crowded and every one is in the most ill spirits when we cannot keep ahead of the demand for stuffed teddies and chocolate coated cherries.

I start training in a little while. In fact, I must be leaving soon in order to reach the town before I must start.

Speaking of town, the night of election, I was hurrying home just as it got dark, intent on getting out of the cold and icy wind and home in time for tea and the fresh scones I knew would be ready just about then. I passed by the bank, and just as I got up near the entrance, Mr. Banker leaped out the door with a sign, waving it frantically to the passing carriages. It startled me a bit, for how often to bankers leap out of their banks, and even less do you see them waving signs with such enthusiasm. It was a sign for the new Mayor of the town, and I nearly giggled as I kept going. The things people do for elections…

Speaking of elections…Election nights usually happen on the 4th. Mine own happened on the 3rd, and it was unlike any other election I’ve ever seen or been a part of.

It happened in the little town of Manitou, in the gazebo I have loved since moving here. There was only one question to be answered, and just one ballot to be filled– mine. The sun had just set and there were candles and flowers and the question?

Do you love me, do you want to be my friend?
And if you do, well then don’t be afraid to take me by the hand
If you want to.
I think this is how love goes, check yes or no.

So… I checked yes.

As Chantel would call an entry here.   A “scribble”.  I don’t know what to say in my scribble, though…I’m not nearly so good at capturing moods and emotions like Chantel.  And I don’t have a beautiful quote to put here.  Nor do I have much to say about life in general.

I suppose one exciting thing is that we’ll be doing an autumn swap…at some point.  All of us ladies are sort of waiting with bated breath for Grace to announce what it will be.  So I guess it’s a little early to write of the swap, but I have written it already, so there.

After many weeks of very quiet and lonely halls, the Manor is finally begining to perk up a bit.  Thanks  to the enthusiasm of our newest member, Lady Amy!  Many of us know her already, but we’re all looking forward to getting to know her better in the months to come.

Our Autumn Dance is progressing quite nicely!  We’re all still in the midst of picking out dresses, but we’ve decided to host the ball in the ballroom.  We’ll open the French doors that lead to the patio and hopefully, with some decorations and magic, turn the entire place into a festive autumn jimbo!  Whatever a jimbo is…I was tired of trying to think of the right word.  Anywho, more to come on the ball and its proceedings.

We’ve stocked up on tea–specifically, Earl Grey.  With the cold months to come, we’ll be sure to have the kettle constantly whistling on the stove.

So there is a short summary of our day-to-day goings on at Gibson Manor. 

Summer is fading, and the crisp, pre-winter bite of fall is in the air. It seems like time and time again I have thought to write in the journal, only to find myself doing a hundred other things, with no time left for anything but to fall into bed and sleep until another day. But today, I saw the journal- so dusty and neglected it looked, as if no one had touched or even thought of it for many long days, and I knew that it time, more than past-time to trace a few lines, lest these weeks and days go by entirely unrecorded and their memories slip away never to be recorded.

Yet, I sit here, in a window seat, looking out at the silent landscape of our manor., holding the journal in my hand and picking up and putting down my pen, in a vain attempt to find the right words to capture all the little things, the beauties, the joys, the tears, and the changes of the past weeks and to put them down here in these pages seems hard to do.  There are some things that words, even as wonderful and treasured as they can be, cannot do justice to. There are some things in life that words could never portray, moments that cannot be written, only remembered.

The past days have been filled with many moments such as these, and my heart over flows, yet I cannot write them just yet, for over all the sad farewells, over all the moments of uncertainty, the nights of loneliness, the glimpses of beauty, and the ocean of joy that has been life of late, the words of a song seem to flood, and so I will lay aside the journal for a little longer, and savor the moonlight, the quiet, and remember…

When you say you love me
The world goes still, so still inside and
When you say you love me
In that moment,I know why I’m alive

I’m sitting here in my room, looking out at the stormy, grey sky, hearing the wind blow and the tiny rain drops splatter ‘gainst the pane. Somehow it matches the mood of my heart.
Good byes were never easy. They never shall be. But sometimes, when they all fall so closely together, and you feel as if your heart is no longer whole, but instead pulled apart, a piece left behind with each new one, they seem so utterly unbearable.  Thus, the rain, wind and the grey sky speak a type of kinship with my heart that is oddly soothing and relaxing.

But, life is always filled with so very much joy. Returning home to the manor, quiet as it is, was itself a beautiful joy. And it is Summer. At long last…after so many months of waiting, of too many days of sweaters and stockings. It feels so good. Even the rain is a joy– with the treat of fire ever hanging over us, rain means much these days. And the memories of the days spent away with family and dear friends sends happy feelings far across the miles that separate us and keep us close at heart.

My travels were intense. Journeying the 1300 and more miles there and back by coach and train was enough to wear one rather thin, and then the busy days of teas and picnics and the wedding and all that it held were exhausting, yet I wouldn’t have missed a moment of it for anything. Along my journeys I was able to spend time with dear and beloved friends, and watching one of those girls slip from singlehood to marriage, standing beside her as she pledged her love forever to the man who she loves above all others, and then ride away in the carriage, her face more radiant than ever before to start her new life…oh, those moments I will always treasure.

Coming home was happy too. It felt good to see the familiar trees and flowers, the garden gate and to hear the familiar sounds of the Manor once again. There are few places better than this one.

Yet, I cannot help but let a few tears slip down. Tears for the goodbyes, and tears for happiness. Oh, how very blessed I have been these past few weeks. And when summer has faded, and winter again slipped it’s snowy cover over us, I will look back on these days and remember joy, and happiness and new life, and that good byes are not forever.

It has been so very quiet around Gibson Manor lately – at least indoors. Were you to step outside, you’d find it a big garden party full of laughter and birdsong and roses and happiness, and our dear girls looking charming in their prettiest summer frocks.

At least that is what I shall assume. I’ve been holed up in my room working away on my sewing for the past few days, and I didn’t notice how silent it was elsewhere in the Manor until I had managed to get sewing off of my mind for a while. I felt quite like a ghost as I flitted from room to room, looking for people…anyone, anywhere. Our own dear ladies Chantel and Olivia have left on their summer vacations, and of course their absence contributes quite a lot to the silence. I miss them both dreadfully, and cannot wait until their safe return, but hope they have happy, pleasant journeys!

Speaking of journeys, Rissa, Jacinta, Lhach, Grace, and I went on a two-week excursion to the country not long ago. On a visit to one of the towns, we spotted a small photography studio, and of course nothing would do but that we had to have our portrait taken! I am attaching a small copy of the photograph to this journal entry.

From left to right, we are: Grace, Jacinta, Abigail, Lhach, Rissa

So…. I fell. Tumbling down in a way that only falling can do. I didn’t expect to exactly, not then and there, nor did I realize it could really happen to someone like me, but it did.

I really never did think much about what the falling would be like. I guess we tend to sometimes dream of the results of a fall, but little think of how it actually happens. Tracing back the steps that led to where we fell is what gives each one of our journey’s a different kind of story line.

You could say it all happened on May 15, but really it goes way beyond that. Perhaps it started 6 months ago, or perhaps it really all began on June 17th of last year when I walked down the isle on a rainy day to stand a witness to the joining of the lives of two. Whatever the case, it started gently and slowly- so much so that I didn’t even notice. And when I did see the fall advancing in the distance before me, I was afraid. The next six months were a journey and a struggle that prepared me for a future I didn’t quite dare to hope would ever be mine.

There were really three things that made my heart tremble. I first had to count the cost. Things like this affect every part of the life, not just the moment. I had to settle in my mind if this was the path that not only I should go, but that God was leading. And then how would it affect those around me, and was it worth it. Those things were settled in a relatively reasonable amount of time, but then it was time to wait.

If you have ever waited, with something deep in side that you know is more than a passing attraction, wondering and watching, keeping your heart at distance, and trying to understand what God is doing, not knowing if the one you are beginning to love will ever love you in return, you can understand the struggle of my heart.

Time and time again, I would give it up, but it would only come back with more force, and the peace that flooded me gave me courage to keep giving it to the One who doeth all things well.

So, on May 15th, God let me get a glimpse of what He was doing- not just in my heart, but in the heart of another, and at long last, I found myself falling. And I haven’t ever been quite as happy as I am just now.

Where ever it started- back at the wedding, on one of the other visits or sometime in between, it truly is a beautiful thing to fall when all is well.

And indeed, the flowers seem to have sprung up overnight here at the manor!  I can’t remember seeing many buds, but already the trees are raining down little pink and white buds, and the grass is green and almost as soft as a newborn lamb.  Speaking of lambs, I’ve seen many of them in the fields when I go for walks.  Just the other day, Tess and I were out on a stroll and stopped to talk to a boy tending to some sheep.  He said that they had birthed over eight lambs in one week! 

Chantel has gone away for a few weeks to visit friends and family, and we are all praying she’ll have safe travels.  In the mean time, some of us girls are participating in a secret letter exchange (which Chantel is heading up).  We have plenty of time, I think, to finish writing our secret letters.  The whole business adds an air of mystery to the Manor!

Let’s see…we’ve been having good discussion around the dinner table about different issues.  I dare say, if some of our girls were men, they would make wonderful politicians or lawyers!  Some of them do love to get into debates over different topics.  I do enjoy a good debate every so often, but sometimes I do take them too seriously.  I’m just glad we have peacemakers who help cool me down.

Rissa, Abby, Grace, and Jacinta are all becoming more and more eager for their week away.  It shall be a nice break for them, and in the mean time, the rest of us can have some fun of our own at the Manor. *mischevious*

I can’t seem to think of much else to say, as things have been rather quiet of late.  I should go now and do some more of my studies…I’m to send one of my papers to my parents this spring.  I simply cannot wait until summer is here!