It's A Fact #35, #36 & #37

35. Overall length was 882' 8"

36. Breadth was 92' 0"

37. Order to proceed with construction was given on 30th April 1907

August Excerpt of Violets Are Blue

This month's excerpt of VAB shows a little history behind Vi and Lilli's friendship, and it also gives a bit of a peek into their differing characteristics. I hope you enjoy. :)

   I could barely remember a time when I had not known Lilli: we had been friends nearly our whole lives. Mum and Mrs. Prescott were like sisters to each other, and Mr. Prescott could often be found discussing news and politics with Father. The Prescotts only had three children; besides Lilli, they had a son and another daughter. The latter was just seven years old; a very pretty and shy little girl with the same straight blonde hair and green eyes as her elder sister. Their son, Will, who was three years my senior, was a good friend of Emma’s. A very good friend... 

     But Lillian was my special friend. We were kindred spirits, and would be, I assumed, for the rest of our lives. To the outside world, we didn’t seem very alike. Lillian had medium-length, straight blonde hair that was always falling out of braids. Her eyes were a mix between grey and green, and nearly always happy. She was a joyful and carefree girl. Virtually nothing bothered her, and the little that did was soon resolved. I, on the other hand, had curly blonde hair that I kept in a bun most of the time. My eyes were a dark, deep blue with hints of grey—the color of the ocean before a storm. My personality was a strange mix—quiet and thoughtful, but with quick temper. I didn’t like to show my emotions, and was extremely private. 

Because of our differences, we fit each other perfectly. Lilli’s docile nature balanced out my fiery temper, and my thoughtful mind was the perfect match to her flighty spirit. We both enjoyed reading and devoured books rapidly. We shared a love for babies and little children—Lillian especially. She hoped to have many children when she was grown and married. We told each other everything; we could even finish each other’s sentences. We were so close—it didn’t even seem probable that something would happen to pull us apart.

It's A Fact #33 & #34

33. At the time, she (the Titanic) was the largest man made moveable object in the world.

34. The construction of the Titanic was not classified by Lloyds Register of Shipping.

August - September Giveaway

We had quite the turn-out for this past month's giveaway--62 comments! I can't blame you; I wish I could have entered myself, for you know how much I love letter-writing. :) Speaking of which, I want to give a big thank you to Miss Grace for writing a guest post for Unsinkable. If you are interested in reading her post, click here. Grace is a wonderful writer, and it was such a pleasure to feature her. 

But let us not get distracted from the winner of the stationary. And that winner is...

Katy-Anne! Congratulations, dear! Please e-mail me for details on how to claim your stationary. 

I'm so excited about this month's prize--'tis simply lovely!

The August - September giveaway winner will receive a beautiful anchor necklace, kindly donated by Leigh of Barberry and Lace. Leigh has a beautiful shop, and I could spend hours gazing longingly at her products. Now is your chance to win one of her necklaces for free!

Oh, the Ways You Can Win!

Please comment once for each entry (except the last two).

mandatory entry: Follow Unsinkable and leave a comment saying you do.

+1 extra entry: Follow Elizabeth's blog, Living on Literary Lane, and leave a comment saying you do.

+1 extra entry: Follow Bree's blog, He Designs My Life, and leave a comment saying you do.

+1 extra entry: Put the giveaway button (found on the sidebar) on your blog's sidebar.

+1 extra entry: Put the Unsinkable button (found on the sidebar) on your blog's sidebar.

+2 extra entries: "Like" Unsinkable's page on Facebook.

+3 extra entries: Post, tweet, or Facebook about this month's giveaway and leave a comment with the link (publish the comment 3 times so as to be entered the proper amount of times).

This giveaway ends on September 12th at 11:59 P.M. CDT. The winner and next month's giveaway will be announced on September 14th. 

Why the giveaway winner and new giveaway were not posted today

All of you must be wondering why the end of last month's giveaway was not announced on the 12th and why the winner and next month's giveaway was not posted today. Bree and I are very sorry for the inconvenience, but we have been out of town with our family for the past four days due to our grandfather's memorial service in a different state, and we just returned home this afternoon. Through the hustle and bustle of preparing for this trip, it escaped both of our minds to schedule the giveaway's end post or the next month's giveaway post. Our humble apologies on both accounts. The August - September giveaway should be up tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest.

Again, Bree and I feel very remorseful over this mistake and we hope it has not caused too much trouble. We know y'all with *love* this month's giveaway, and we can't wait for you to see it! 

The Lost Art of Letter-Writing

Charlotte sighed as she glanced out the lattice window, above the bleak skies poured rain from the heavens; she looked about her father's dark library and shuddered. A dim candle's light flickered on her father's desk across the room and was the only light with which the room was lit. How could one tolerate such a depressing atmosphere? Her elderly Papa stooped over a large brown ledger opened on his old, antiqued desk. Miss Morecotte sighed once more. Why must England's March weather be so ill? Such sullen weather always made the beautiful, young mistress of the house fall into a state of low-spirits with practically nothing to entertain or amuse her. Her friends residing in the estates nearby were in the least interested visiting her on such a damp day, nor did her father's rambling of miscellany cheer her spirits; not even a new book sent from her brother in London captivated her attention. 

Miss Morecotte turned once more to the view out the lattice window with a clenched jaw. Besides the rain splatters that marked the glass from the deluge of rainfall, from the second story of the estate, she had a relatively clear view of the layout of the out-of-door gardens. The knot garden pruned and prim lay ahead whilst the perfectly even hedges their gardener tended bordered her long, deceased mother's rose beds. Of course, 'twas in the midst of March and the roses where not in bloom. 

Suddenly, in the distance she could see a small figure hurriedly dashing through the rainfall. Her curiosity was instantly pricked, and she, like an eager child, stood on the tips of her silken slippered feet to obtain a better view. 'Twas a messenger from the village hiding a parcel of some sort within his drenched coat. A few minutes later a faint knock coming from the front parlor could be heard through the door across the room, ajar; a maid's meek voice answered it in response. 

A maid knocked quietly on her father's study before entering, and scurried across the room with a bundle of papers, neatly tied with a pink ribbon. Charlotte realized it was a bundle of letters; her heart started to beat with excitement. The maid handed the bundle to her, "Post came, Lady Charlotte. The messenger explained that the week's post had been delayed for an extended period of time, Miss," and with a small curtsy she left. 

The delicate scent of lilac blossoms in the spring clung to her bundle of beautifully written letters; the calligraphy in French was definitely in a familiar hand. Charlotte smiled and her eyes brightened with joy. Then suddenly, the clouds outside parted, and cheery sunshine streamed into the dark room, illuminating a beautiful, golden glow. 

Her father, noticing his daughter's delight, inquired, "To what do I owe my daughter's radiant countenance?"

"Oh, Papa," she began. "These are letters, that were delayed for months, from my dear friend in France, Germany and Italy." She pressed them to her heart. "I have been awaiting their delivery!" She tore open the bright red seal, and began to excitedly read the first beautiful words: My Dearest Miss Charlotte and the treasured contents within.... 

Gracious words are like honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to thy body. ~Proverbs 16

In our lifestyle to-day, we have no practical means of communicating through letter correspondence. We have, in the twenty-first century, computers, text messages, phones, even Skype, making us just a few clicks away from contacting a good friend. Although to-day's technology is both efficient and helpful, lettering has become an age old pastime, fading to time's eternity. Rarely do you hear a person receiving a letter from a friend in conversation, nor do you see a sweetly, hand-written note amongst the piles of junk mail and bills.   

What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters.  You can't reread a phone call.  

~Liz Carpenter

   

‘Tis like finding a gem when one does find a hand-written note among the other tangled mess of mail.

How charming it is to think of a maiden sitting in a well-lit room with a quill pen in hand, a filled ink pot to the side, and a page of parchment lined with words in the most beautiful calligraphy. Indeed, we did not know what was lost when we stopped writing letters.

In an age like ours, which is not given to letter-writing, we forget what an important part it used to play in people's lives.  ~Anatole Broyard

Letter writing in the past was not a pastime, as we see to-day, but one of the only ways of communication. How different it would be to us to have to wait about a half a month or so to have news in a in the form of a letter from a relative or friend; since the letter was written it might be a month’s old news...so much could have happened between then!

So much might have changed between the date of the letter written and the date received. Think of it: your cousin sends a letter to let your family know that she is to be wed, and by the time you reply to the letter, she might have returned from her honeymoon by then!J  

~Brief Synopsis of the History of Letter Writing~

The Victorian Art of Letter Writing

Before the age of mass e-mails and faxes, handwritten letters were considered the only acceptable means of intimate correspondence. Victorians wrote letters of apology, letters of congratulations, letters of introduction, just to mention a few. The proper Victorian lady was obliged to convey news and information through an attractive letter. Her talent for letter-writing was not only a social obligation, but a skill that she was expected to cultivate, naturally or through practice. Her aptitude for letter-writing indicated fine breeding. Both ladies and gentlemen were judged not only by the elegance and economy of words chosen, but by their penmanship.

The correct choice of stationery was crucial to making a suitably genteel impression, although the definition of acceptable stationery changed with every decade. Colored notepaper adorned with flowers in the corner was in common use in the 1850s, and was appropriate for intimate letters. By the turn of the century, however, only heavy, white or cream tinted, unruled paper was considered tasteful. Monogrammed stationery enjoyed a vogue in the mid-1800's, but by the end of the century, was hopelessly out of fashion. Equally important was the choice of ink. When inspired, writers of the 19th century took pen in hand, dipped the point into an inkwell and set their ideas on paper. 

~From Eras of Elegance

  

It is one of my dear wishes to uncover an old bundle of letters, neatly tied with strings, red wax seal still sticking to the faded envelopes - the content within telling a story of a relationship with a friend, or a courtship with a dashing captain! ;) 

Letters are like a piece of history. When you write a letter and send it to your relative or friend, it's now a little bit of history of your own.

So I encourage you to-day, to sit down with pen and some pretty paper in hand to send a piece of cheeriness one's way!

Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.  

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Miss Grace is a fourteen years of age Christian young lady who is an avid reader of historical novels, dreamer of whimsy, baker of sweets, aspiring photographer and writer, and lover of anything old-fashion. She is also the tender of the garden atgracesgardenwalk.blogspot.com where she welcomes new visitors. She can usually be found by the lavender. :)  

 {To read the continuation of this article, please visit here.}