| |
[Dec. 8th, 2011|03:09 pm] |
Is there anything lovelier than waking up to see snow on the ground outside the windows?
I perhaps selfishly hope that it holds until tomorrow night. But I think it shall.
( Warded to Boneses ) |
|
|
| |
[Nov. 16th, 2011|08:41 pm] |
I would like to thank everyone for their participation at the gala this weekend past. It was more successful than I can imagine anyone thought it might be. Overall I believe we had raised quite enough to pay for a few remarkable pieces for next year's exhibition on Grindelwald's war, and small series of lectures.
[Warded to the Order of the Phoenix]
Charlotte visited Orion Black last night. He has come down with a rather severe case of dragon pox. A disease which can be contracted by contact with dragons.
It certainly makes one wonder, doesn't it? |
|
|
| |
[Nov. 6th, 2011|05:36 pm] |
As fashionable as they were in the 1940s, I dare say that I shall be happy when this gala is over this coming Saturday so that I may be rid of this beard although, I have found a rather fetching hat to wear.
For anyone still considering, tickets are available at the Periwinkle museum offices for 20 Galleons.
[Warded to Alice and Robbie McKinnon]
The timing is abyssmal, I know, but are you two both still planning to attend the museum gala in disguise. If so, how are your covers coming along?
[Warded to Boneses]
I have heard a rumour that Beauxbatons will be replacing their History Master next year. I will be putting my name in for consideration. |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 22nd, 2011|06:23 pm] |
It is my absolute delight to announce that the Herodotus Periwinkle Museum of Magical History, in collaboration with the Lestrange-Avery Foundation, will be hosting a catered event on 12 November 1979 at the atrium of the Herodotus Periwinkle Museum of Magical History to celebrate the newest exhibition in the European Hall: Grindelwald: the Rise of Politics of Discord to be opening in January 1980.
Tickets will be 20 galleons and may be reserved at the central office of the Herodotus Periwinkle Museum of Magical History prior to the event and proceeds will serve to aid in the completion of the exhibition, providing honorariums to lecturers for a series of summer talks on Grindelwald's War and its lasting effects on European politics, economy, and policy, as well as contributing to the overall endowment of the Herodotus Periwinkle Museum of Magical History.
Guests in attendance are encouraged to wear their favorite fashions from the 1940s. I sincerely hope to see many of our numbers in attendance.
( cut for graphics ) |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 17th, 2011|10:32 am] |
[Warded to the Order]
Again, excellent work everyone.
As discussed previously, I have started into arrangements with the Lestrange-Avery Foundation on arranging a charitable gala for Periwinkle Museum on the 12th of November though it has not yet been publicly announced. While I doubt it will have anywhere near the draw of some the events of the holiday season, its proximity to it may provide an excellent chance to make connections and infiltrate a few balls.
If we were still batting around the idea of foreign purebloods, an event such as this might be an ideal time to introduce them. I could certainly introduce someone as a foreign colleague.
[Warded to Boneses]
I suppose after what has come to light regarding young Evan, that Gregorius Rosier would not be a surprising as a Death Eater, but what do you lot make of the Prophet this morning?
Amelia, I do suppose you would know him best.
( warded to self ) |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 11th, 2011|09:34 pm] |
Though it is a bit outside my normal era, a historical tidbit from our modern world:
It is said that the duel between Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore was absolutely silent, yet so bright that it lit up the night in a semblance of day. The courtyard in which the duel occurred still resonates with the magic used therein, often interfering with attempts of modern wizards to cast spells within its confines.
( Warded to the Herodotus Periwinkle Museum Philanthropic Board. ) |
|
|
| |
[Oct. 2nd, 2011|02:30 pm] |
It is rather curious what one will use for a pagemarker in the moment.
Whilst perusing an ill-used 19th century treatise on comparative ministerial hierarchies in Britain and France, I stumbled upon a most delightful piece of correspondence between one can only assume the book's previous owner and a man battling against the French during their Revolution (Why must we keep calling wars that?). It was a rather long and quotidian letter, though the last part was touching enough that I thought to share an excerpt:
"if my heart was like yours we would be united in heart you kneed not to doubt. Though we are fare apart at present my heart is with you every moment for I often think of you when you are asleep when travailing the lonesom roads in France. The thought of your sweet smiles is all the company I have I trust that you are cinsere in what you have wrote to me.Your sparkling blue eyes and rosy red cheeks has gaind my whole efections. I hope for the time to come when we shall meet again then if you are in the notion that I am we can pass off the time in pleasure My time has come for sleep and I must soon close. I want you to rite to me as soon as you can for I will be glad to hear from you any time. Direct your letters as before and don't forget your best friend so I will end my few lines but my love to you has no End. remember me as ever your love and friend. Excuse bad riting.
One almost feels like a voyeur, stumbling so unexpectedly upon such heartfelt and intimate confessions but can it not be said that such thoughts are wholly human. I can imagine writing something similar were I separated from my wife. Particularly in a world where journals did not exist. The last sentence brings a smile to my face.
The letter is dated 1794 though the book itself bears a mark indicating publication in the 1820s of which I have little cause to doubt the veracity. I wonder if reading on the reconstruction of France's Ministry after their Revolution caused the reader to remember a lover from her youth. The book was part of a collection donated to the Periwinkle Museum by a Winifred and Octavian Dillingham. The letter addressed to "My lovely Winny" is signed "Hortense," assumably not her husband. One must wonder what became of their love and friendship. With no surname, it is difficult to know from one letter.
The letter, while having no place in a museum, still was remarkable enough in its simplicity that I thought it interesting enough to share publically. I hope that someone takes from it a smile.
I wonder if that is what has become of my to-do list for this week. That it has ferreted away into some tome.
( Warded to the Order )
( Warded to Boneses ) |
|
|
| |
[Sep. 25th, 2011|12:51 pm] |
[Warded to the Order]
Sparing the tedious explanation, I believe we should be concerned for Mr. Fortescue's most recent post. While he is not amongst our membership, I rather have reason to believe that he may now be mistaken as part of it.
[Warded to Charlotte]
I do believe that parcel was intended for me. While it is reassuring to not be the immediate suspect, I take no joy in Florean Fortescue being targeted either.
It feels absolutely abhorrent to say as much, but what would you say if I started looking for a position on the continent, at least through this war? |
|
|
| |
[Aug. 26th, 2011|03:30 pm] |
I have perhaps spent more time this week than I rightfully ought have waxing philosophical over a glass of red wine and a stack of critical editions, but it rather takes me back to my days as a student of history in the 7 and 3/4e arrondissement of Paris. The early 60s were such glorious days. But I'm certain no one has any interest in listening to me prattle on about the misadventures of my youth, and that is hardly why I am writing.
My dearest sister, Amelia, mentioned the other day that we are coming upon 35 years since the defeat of Gellert Grindelwald, putting an end to a shocking conflict in the middle of this century, and I have several colleagues, both in Britain and on the Continent whose life work is preserving and collecting history on an event taking place within their lifetime. I had always considered them more like herbologists, in a way, collecting a current herbarium of European magic. But I think I have finally come to a point wherein I understand what they intended.
As I might hope many of you well know, I am a medieval historian specialised highly in Merlinian legend and lore. I have always felt History of Magic to be one of the most important subjects a young witch or wizard can learn because ours as a culture has been one with a rich, heroic, and altogether awe-inspiring path. But we are not the end of our journey. Wizarding culture has survived since time eternal: against and through prejudice, violence, terror, and misfortune as or more often than success, luck, joy, and triumph. I have little doubt that its arts and traditions will survive well beyond our present day. But what sort of mark are we leaving for future generations?
I will admit, as a man so often immersed a millenia in the past, I feel almost ashamed that I neglected to realise that we are living history today--here in Britain. How will Tinworth be mentioned in 100 years? In 500? What will be said of the now unsung heroes and villains, the erstwhile victims of this War? What will it be called? How, readers, will you be spoken of? We should all ask ourselves as much.
It may seem vanity, at best, including oneself in history as anything more than the flickering of a brief candle, but as one for whom primary sources are rare and precious commodities, I would entirely urge everyone to document their experience. We would all do well to commit our loved ones, our sufferings, our sacrifices, and our journey not only to personal, private memory, but to society's herbaria, to return to a point.
Dear me. I have gone on far longer than I intended, I suppose, but I do wish to ask: What are we doing to preserve our present history?
( Warded to Charlotte )
( Warded to Boneses )
( Warded to the Order )
( Warded to Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall ) |
|
|
| |
[Aug. 23rd, 2011|08:34 pm] |
[Warded to the Order of the Phoenix, minus Charlotte]
Perhaps it is slightly trivial to ask, but would anyone be comfortable obliviating a house elf?
Charlotte and I were discussing loaning ours to Oliver and his wife while she is on maternity leave. Clearly Fibula has been privy to any guests at the Ossuary, and I would rather not either of them learn anything accidental given my brother's occupation and Eleanor's love of gossip |
|
|
| |
[Aug. 21st, 2011|03:03 pm] |
[Warded to Boneses]
While I know none of us live in Tinworth, it still would calm my mind to know that none of you were affected by what hap whatever happened last night.
Secondly, as much as I hate to do this, I believe we shall have to reschedule Monday night's dinner. I have been asked by a colleague at the Musée des Civilisations Magicales et Polytéchniques to assist in the interpretation of a new primary source on Llacheu of Connemara which might reveal a most exciting new insight into the location of Merlin's Tomb. I suppose that, or it might be a diary. In any case, I would really like to leave post-haste.
Would it be possible to reschedule for next Monday as opposed to tomorrow?
[Warded to Order]
Particularly for those who were out last night, after having read the Prophet, do you suppose we ought be worried about this rash? |
|
|
| |
[Aug. 20th, 2011|10:46 pm] |
[Warded to Order, warded to chime until read]
Death Eaters flying--Tinworth |
|
|
| |
[Aug. 17th, 2011|01:49 am] |
It is absolutely fascinating how one can get so caught up in researching the past that one loses sight of the present. I found myself immersed in Brunhilde Haversham's treatise on Identity and medieval wizardry through the scope of Uric the Oddball to the point that I fear I have been remiss in some of my familial duties.
As such, I would like to wish a slightly belated thirty-fourth birthday to my dearest brother Oliver Bones. I do hope no one gave him too hard a time.
[Warded to Boneses]
I have been thinking, as the children will be returning to school very shortly, that we should get together and have a family dinner sometime before the first of September. Would that be amenable to everyone and if so, when is convenient? I was thinking perhaps sometime next week?
Further, Percival has been quite adamant about it, but does a second year truly need a racing broom? |
|
|
| |
[Jul. 21st, 2011|08:23 pm] |
I suppose I really should be more sympathetic, but it would seem that this week is quite the fortunate one for those of us not employed at the Ministry of Magic. Still, I do hope, for my friends and family members working at the Ministry as well everyone others there employed, that things are sorted out shortly. I can only imagine that it must be dreadful.
Still if anyone is seeking a break from the heat, the atmospheric charms at the Periwinkle Museum are functioning exquisitely. I would urge anyone intrigued by history to stop by. We unveiled a fascinating exhibition of 14th century lovers' handkerchiefs. The embroidery on some is exquisite--even better than elven craftsmanship.
[Warded to Amelia and Oliver]
I hope you are not suffering too much?
[Warded to Order]
[Warded to Dedalus Diggle]
Were you able to ascertain if the journals are functioning normally? |
|
|
| |
[Jul. 13th, 2011|09:17 pm] |
[Warded to Order]
Just a brief entry to keep everyone updated up to speed.
Tonight whilst patrolling homes of the muggleborn children, Dedalus and I--and I can only assume Sturgis--were chanced upon by the D.M.L.E. Defensive measures were taken, but ultimately we disapparated quickly. Otherwise, everything there were no other problems.
[Warded to Sturgis Podmore, Dedalus Diggle]
Sturgis, did you make it alright? I regret that we had to disapparate without you but it seemed that reuniting at that particular moment would have placed us all in more danger. If you were injured, Charlotte is up and the children asleep.
|
|
|
| |
[Jun. 30th, 2011|11:31 pm] |
A small historical tidbit, though I often wonder how many truly read these:
On this day in 522, it is believed that one of the knights of Arthur, the muggle politician aided by Merlin, stumbled across the castle of B. Groenne--commonly believed by scholars of Merlinian history to be named Bertilak. While I will assume everyone is familiar of the tale of this Sir Gawain, I will make a few comments perhaps more typically constrained to footnotes than magical history bedtime stories.
Groenne is colloquially refered to as "the Green Knight" due to a linguistic slip by the 12th century when historians began a concentrated effort to preserve tales and history of Merlin and his followers as an essential part of our shared British heritage. While he was many things, Groenne has gone down in history for his penchant for muggle-baiting, but it is perhaps more suprising that he had so many takers for his proposition: that he would allow a knight to attempt to sever his head with an axe if he could do the same to them in a year and a day. Of course by all accounts, Groenne made liberal use of illusion and protective spells to stop his own head from being severed and apparently became quite the showman in this little game and claimed several heads for his own. It was only his wife's ultimate sympathy and betrayal that ended this game.
But I think, whatever answer these knights sought in this game, whether bravery, or misguided chivalry, or something altogether more obscure, it was certainly folly on their part to be so hungry for a head without first consideration what the cost may later be to them all.
[Warded to Boneses]
What do you make of these lessons offered by Hogwarts? I am sorely considering sending the children to them if nothing else.
[Warded to Order]
I think my largest concern of this whole spectacle is how many families will Greyback go through until he grows bored? |
|
|
| |
[Jun. 25th, 2011|04:42 pm] |
|
The bravest people in the world are the ones who don't mind looking like ( cowards ). |
|
|