Lizzy's Latest Endeavour

Some of you may have heard that my daughter Lizzy, in addition to insisting that she can fight as well as a man (why would you even want to?), has begun a small “zombie apothecary” business in our cellar. She’s become quite adept at creating salves and balms that she claims will combat the plague. As for me, I took it upon myself to convince Lizzy that the products must at the very least be floral scented (for everyone knows that jasmine and rosemary are universally appealing to men). She is currently selling these products on Etsy.com.

I sat down with my daughter Lizzy to discuss her endeavour, which, while not exactly ladylike, could at least be considered a handicraft in some circles (thus adding to her “accomplishments” as a young lady).

Mary was kind enough to transcribe our conversation, which appears below:

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Mrs. Bennet: Why Lizzy, are you really intent on tying your hair back in such a manner? It’s so unfetching!

Lizzy: I thought I was here to talk about my apothecary business, mother.

Mrs. Bennet: Oh yes, yes, of course, I’m simply trying to “warm the waters” as they say!

Lizzy: Well, I have a batch of Reanimate and Perambulate smelling salts drying in the garden, so I don’t have long to discuss such trivialities.

Mrs. Bennet: Well, then! Silly me to keep you here, speaking of “trivialities” as you say, which will only help you find a husband! I daresay no gentleman will be impressed by this apothecary business of yours—your hairstyle is the only thing that will remind them that you’re a woman.

Lizzy: Goodness me, I knew this was a trick! I’m leaving.

Mrs. Bennet: No, no, no, no! Please, Lizzy, stay! Now let’s start over. Tell me about your business. My readers are very interested.

Lizzy: Well, all right. It’s a small apothecary business, and I’ve been producing salves and disinfectants so the people of Hertfordshire can better ward off the plague. Why, what happened to all those poor children at Beechman’s Home for Oprhans would have been completely avoidable, if they only had my Gnaw-be-Gone Purifying Poultice on hand.

Mrs. Bennet: What does that one smell like again? Peonies? Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s a valid question.

Lizzy: Well, anyway, I’ve been sending small boxes of goods to powerful individuals in the area, so they can better ward off the plague. It’s been quite successful so far. I’ve also been selling these products on my Etsy account.

[long pause]

Lizzy: Why are you wringing your hands?

Mrs. Bennet: Are you really sure you won’t change your hair style? Lizzy! Don’t walk away! It’s just because I know how attractive it could look!

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Well, anyway, perhaps the interview didn’t go quite as well as I wished, but please do take a look at Lizzy’s products: http://www.etsy.com/people/lizzysapothecary

Avoiding the most "unmentionable" embarrassment of all!

It’s fall again, dear readers. Longbourn estate is in such a tumult of activity, what with preparing for the autumn balls, taking walks around the grounds, and enjoying afternoon tea in the company of so many important and handsome members of society—no! I will not say a word about whom exactly I speak! (Here, please excuse a most selfish aside: four of my five daughters are brunettes, and as I find the crisp weather and autumnal colors to be quite in the favour of their complexions, I do expect at least one marriage proposal before the season is out!)

Of course, along with the excitement of such balls and activities, it seems that Longbourn’s loamy fields are quite prone to the unearthing of all manner of unmentionables. Their tattered garb and utterly disfigured visages are a daily affront to my lawn, and dear Lizzy spends nearly two hours each day outdoors, slaying them in her finest clothing and most dainty dancing slippers. Of course, Mr. Grahme-Smith’s atrocious exposé of our family has done doing nothing to help Lizzy’s cause. In fact, I believe that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies has contributed to her complete abandonment of all things feminine. Dear readers, if you encounter this book, please tell any interested parties that Mr. Grahme-Smith’s depiction of my daughters’ unladylike behaviour is utterly exaggerated. They are much more radiant and less blood-splattered than the horrendous pictures that he chooses to display so brazenly within his book’s pages!

But I digress. Let me simply introduce this afternoon’s “question of note”: What is to be done with an overly headstrong daughter? And how, exactly, can one expect to marry her off, when she insists on spending her afternoons studying ninja techniques, and prefers a Katana to a lovely crochet? If you have any suggestions, please let me know. I have been quite begging Mr. Bennet to take my side on the manner; alas, he utterly refuses to ask Lizzy to enjoy more ladylike pursuits.

I will publish the most noteworthy responses to this question in one of my upcoming correspondences.

Marriage, motherhood, and the "dreadful" horror of the undead!

19^th Century Mombie is a correspondence dedicated to the particular (and sometimes peculiar!) difficulties of trying to raise ladylike and marriage-worthy daughters in the midst of the terrible plague that has over-run England. As a “self-proclaimed” mombie, I place the greatest importance on all manner of techniques and tactics to, as I like to say, “Get the girls married!” I also see it as my duty to counteract the gross exaggerations about my daughters’ unladylike behaviour as portrayed in Seth Grahme-Smith’s unfounded piece of fiction about my family, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

In these difficult times, my dear daughters must frequently forsake propriety in order to fight the undead—but I remain convinced that they need not fall into the “unmentionable” horror of spinsterhood! With five daughters (Elizabeth, Jane, Mary, Kitty, and darling Lydia), I consider myself quite the expert in the field, and I thought it my duty to inform my fellow matriarchs of what I’ve learned. I also find it helpful to include my personal cooking, sewing, and “socializing” techniques, as well as information on the latest and most fetching bonnet and frock styles for all those daughters out there—and the mothers that insist that they remain à la mode!

 Just because dear England is under siege by such terrible (and badly groomed) unmentionables, this is no reason to give up on the decorum and propriety that the “old guard” remember so fondly. I wholeheartedly encourage you to enjoy, benefit from, and share what you learn here.

Fondly,

Mrs. Bennet

Longbourn Estate

Hertfordshire, England

My latest "Mombie moment"

If you will, please allow me a correspondence in which I can boast “a little” about my dear, dear daughters. As you all know, my eldest daughters, Lizzy and Jane, are lovely. But they are entirely too ensconced in their little world of zombies and the men who enjoy slaying them (the zombies, not the daughters. Ha! Ha!) So today I’d like to speak about my two youngest: Kitty and Lydia.

Rarely is a mother so blessed with the ability to allow their daughters to “roam free” without worrying that they will find themselves in a pile of wilted leaves, the curse of the plague upon them, and their every hope of marrying dashed to a thousand undead pieces!  But no, not only are Kitty and Lydia quite equipped to ward of even the most terrifying undead, but they are also adept at attracting some very living (and very handsome) men! 

I simply couldn’t help but have a mombie “moment of pride”—and share these paintings of Kitty and Lydia in Meryton Village. They were so rosy-cheeked and witty that I dare say their presence tempted every dashing naval officer—living and undead—in all of Hertfordshire.