Commence
at the commencement, where only fairy tales begin. Once upon a time
there was a spinster in her cradle, cut out for spinsterhood long
before her birth. When older, and well established as a spinster, she
thought she'd perhaps had a voice in the matter, had perhaps chosen
this course for herself. Her purpose not to procreate but to read,
often absorbingly, sometimes mechanically; to at all times keep her
eyes and fingers employed. And indeed she may be right, for, if
reading and a little life experience had taught her anything it was
that a crowd out for fun could easily become a mob out for blood. She
did not dispute this truth but rather feared it.
Picture credit: The Artist's Wife Knitting, 1920,William James Glackens (source: WikiArt).
From journal, May 2023.