Lemurian City of Ladies

A Lemurian City Built in Memory of Christine de Pizan

Archive for the ‘City of Ladies Cafe Society’ Category

Ying and Yang

with 7 comments


The traditions
within the city
continue throughout the ages
old sits comfortably
alongside new

Heather Blakey – March 2008

Written by Heather Blakey

March 23, 2008 at 12:43 pm

Meeting at The Taverna!

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You are Cordially Invited To

The first Meeting


The Soul Food Café’s

Blue Stocking Society


The Taverna di Muse

Please bring your views about

Who the Blue Stocking Society was in the Past

And who we are today.

Share your Writing, Art and Your Voice

About this amazing society

With us

This Friday January 19, 2007

(Meeting to run all weekend)

If you are not a Taverna Member please contact




Thank you to Ninjacat for suggesting this week’s agenda

Who was the

Bluestocking Soceity?

In mid-18th-century England, any of a group of women who met to discuss literature. Attempting to replace the playing of cards and such social activities with more intellectual pursuits, they held “conversations” to which they invited men of letters and members of the aristocracy with literary interests. The term probably originated when Mrs. Elizabeth Vesey invited the learned Benjamin Stillingfleet to one of her parties; he declined, saying he lacked appropriate dress, until she told him to come “in his blue stockings” — the ordinary worsted stockings he was wearing at the time. The word bluestocking came to be applied derisively to a woman who affects literary or learned interests.

Written by Anita Marie

January 16, 2007 at 4:32 pm

The Barmy Bronte Bunch

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I was fascinated to read your comments re: Jean Rhys whose novels are somewhere in this house but I never felt a need to put them at the front of my reading queue. The whole concept of taking Bertha’s character and developing it into a novel in its own right intrigues me. Your comments regarding Mr Rochester make me breathe huge sighs of relief!

Jane Eyre is a good yarn – as indeed the same can be said of Wuthering Heights – but for the love of God in what way are these men in any way likable? Heathcliffe in particular is as mad as a box of March hares and Rochester is surly and arrogant. Oddly enough I can live with this, I know many women who would have hurled themselves at their feet. I cannot handle a perfectly intelligent young woman not sussing out that she shared the big house with a nutcase in the attic who had a fancy for arson! I mean come on Jane, get a grip here love, go and take a look when the screeching stops you sleeping and the flames are licking round the drapes.

Incredibly I think I could even cope with the mystery woman who could not be named, but the marriage fiasco – ‘I object, the man is married and I have nipped over from the Windies to proclaim this news’ – no.  No, no, no, no and no – but oh so convenient. I could possibly make myself get over that but no…. worse is to come. Jane ups and offs in a carriage going nowhere in particular with money that requires her to be bundled out on a dark and rainy moor and who should find her – yes, her long lost and only relative in the world who popped up in the nick of time to provide genteel comforts and hot soup!!! Bobby Ewing walking back into the cast of Dallas, through a wardrobe or a shower having spent 3 years dreaming whilst half the western world had him for dead was completely derided as the ultimate in pot-boiling garbage. Janey’s rellies are more or less on a par – the writer did not, could not devise a plot so she threw in ludicrous twists and figured her readers would think,’ Gosh! Lucky Jane.’

As for Heathcliffe and the evil that pervades his character as he frantically digs his way into Cathy’s grave so he can lie beside her – he should have married Rochester’s wife and hung out in the attic!

Just a thought, well, a diatribe really, after reading your post. Jean Rhys – wheel her in!


Written by jan2

January 2, 2007 at 12:02 am

The Crone ran short of gossip so she went to the top of the palm

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Crone was running short of things to say
so she had the little monkey take her once more
to the top of the palm tree, near to the shore
where she took her binoculars
found in her sights:
a pirate ship pirating
a miners minering
a lazy lady sleeping in a hammock on Owl Island
a boss lady wielding a whip
a doll maker making a magic doll
two other old crones, was that a brawl?
photographers photographing all of the sights
and an old man with a lantern lighting the lights
by day
What are they doing? remains to be seen
she thinks they planning the dread
Her note pad is full so she waits to be taken
back to her computer to get it all down
before the ink fades
and she’s driven from town

Written by cronelogical

October 7, 2006 at 12:47 am

The Crone’s witches on holiday

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The kitchen witches , Crone is glad to say
have done so much work they need a holiday
so the dear ladies found their very best hats
and cleaned all the brooms and found
the old red canoe, they are on their way
to the city of ladies to spend and to talk
to the waiter who serves them so well.
So don’t be surprised if you find a canoe
parked beside your convertible or a wandering witch
shopping for new straw or a few
little black bats and a stray cat or two
If you would like a chat please join the big table
and try the very best brew if you’re brave from their jug

(They might even offer you a ride )

Written by cronelogical

September 12, 2006 at 3:48 am

Thursday morning tea

with 2 comments

Seniors day at our Cafe
The elders meet and greet
talk of the day,the weather, the news or when Old Seventy
sold her shoes for a pair of red gumboots
or the time that Fifty-Seven met Sixty-two
or the grandchild that swallowed the cherries
from Grandma’s hat
and had to be pumped–now that
reminds me,  “Do you recall that time you painted
Gran’s   Cadilac  firy red with the can we found
by Gramp’s old barn?”

Square dance meetings in Poplar School
or teacher Black who broke her rule
over Bill’s hard head?  Wasn’t she the one
we caught kissing Jim’s brother?  And how we teased
her next day ’till she blushed?

Written by cronelogical

August 31, 2006 at 1:25 am

Crone takes her cronies to afternoon tea

with 7 comments

Crone has  taken her  cronies to tea
at  the inn where the chef makes the  best
steaming oysters
and scallops
and things in their shells
all served by himself with a most haughty style
ignoring their hats
and their smiles  
He serves out the fishes and each gets a dollop
of cream
or some pepper to taste
A tall jug of magic brew
will be enough for one or two   
Will you join them?

Written by cronelogical

August 24, 2006 at 10:12 am

The Aunty and Uncle at the Pink and Black Ball

with 3 comments

Last night the party was a Pink and Black Ball for the girl who had turned eighteen. Uncle showed up in an all pink suit while Aunt wore a hat with panache. Aunt’s portrait may be found in Cronelogical’s site . (And Hallowe’en’s still to come)

Written by cronelogical

August 20, 2006 at 11:40 am

The Song of the Herb Robert Fairy

with 5 comments

Little Herb Robert,

Bright and small,

peeps from the bank

or the old stone wall.

from Cicely Mary Barker’s “Flower fairies of the summer”

Little Herb Robert,

his leaf turns red;

He’s wild geranium,

so it is said.

Written by traveller2006

August 18, 2006 at 2:35 pm

The Ballad of Herb Robert

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With his bobbing red head and his trim suit of green,
Herb Robert’s a dandy, the finest e’er seen.
For which Rob was he named, this knight of the hedgerow?
A monk or a Saint, or a stout Duke with short hose?

Nobody knows, but it doesn’t matter a ween,
For Herb Robert’s a dandy, the finest e’er seen.
He’s a friend and a helpmate to all those who serve
The Goddess of Healing and the magic of herbs.

The Geranium family spawned this wee bein’,
Herb Robert’s a dandy, the finest e’re seen.
But he wears no sweet perfume, no charming nosegay,
He smells like an ostler, of horses and hay.

For you’ll find him in places that are dark and mean,
Tho’ Herb Robert’s a dandy, the finest e’re seen.
In the stench of a battle, where limbs bleed and tear,
You’ll find handsome Robert, tending wounds there.

With his bobbing red head and his trim suit of green,
Herb Robert’s a dandy, the finest e’re seen.
But his heart’s with the wounded, the bleeding and torn,
He wraps them in comfort, and heals the forlorn.

Written by Gail Kavanagh

August 9, 2006 at 4:58 am