Lizzie Borden Society Forum

In case anyone hasn't noticed --

It's Wednesday the 3rd & Uncle John is off at the farm around this time.

Tomorrow is Thursday the 4th

That's really cool. Thanks for pointing that out Tina- Kate

I noticed that today. I'm not sure if its the exact same calander as in 1892, I would have to check the phone book. It's on the Thursday anyway.

6:38 am, perhaps Morse was stirring about now.

Rise and Shine! Who's ready for johnnycakes and mutton soup? Yum!

"Almost ten, so much to do around the house, basting, ironing, reading, hiding that damn dress..."

"Guess I'll head for home. Nothing's as soothing to a sick old man as a cat-nap on the sitting room sofa!"

"Well, time for my nap. Or maybe I'll just read the paper. Or maybe I've just accused Lizzie of lying about her mother...her step-mother's whereabouts, and she's getting that nervous, mottled look. Good, she's left the room...back to whatever it was I was doing..."

By now, Lizzie has called Bridget down from her room and sent her for Doctor Bowen. And finally, after years of looking out her kitchen window at the Borden house, Addie Churchill (the Victorian Gladys Kravits) is about to get more than she ever bargained for!

Yes, Great observation Tina-Kate. (nice seeing you post)

When I use to drive by 92, the Borden murders would always loiter in mind. The murder and trial dominated my thoughts about Lizzie Borden; as it does with most in fall river familiar with the case.

Now that I live next door to Maplecroft, this line of thinking only pops into my head when the topic is brought up; instead every time I think about Lizzie, thoughts of LIfe at Maplecorft linger in mind instead.

On quiet mornings, 6 a.m or so, I look over to the old Victorian homestead and picture Lizzie teetering down her veranda steps, straddling the drab gray porch railing out to water the pansies, fill the bird feeder and feed the stray neighborhood cat, all the while her poky Boston Terrier darts down the stairs to chase a dry tussling maple leaf around the old black Lincoln Salon which sits on the granite cobblestone drive. The stainglass window of the second floor's well stocked library still glistens in the early morning light in a kaleidoscope of color emitted from a lamp inside the house which Lizzie forgot to turn off the night before, after a late night reading. The freshly painted shingles on Maplecorft glisten from the early morning dew, washing its surface, and the cozy back porch stands proud exhibiting all its spun ornate spindled posts and rows of balusters lined up like fancy wood soldiers protecting her fragile solitary world.

As my day wears on the harsh sunlight reveals the truth left behind. Close study uncovers Maplecorft's shabby paint, its dilapidated rotting back porch, the missing stainglass window, rickety rusted Iron fence and the neglect from lack of respect for the Borden name and the building's history. Finally, I picture the front door of the glassed porch swinging open. Out comes a a mahogany polished box carried by a group of men over the granite entrance step with the name MAPLECORFT carved into it. The smaller than expected coffin is placed quietly into a hearse.

Though it was long ago, it was only yesterday.

Yes, I really never think about Lizzie Borden of 92 Second Street.

I don't know that women.

Stretched out in my pink wrapper, at long last. Hoping the hooplah dies down, so to speak.
Not that it won't be a-- hmmm-- trying next few weeks-- maybe months-- but then it'll all be forgotten soon enough.

******************************************************************************************************************

M.B.-- Really like your "Visions of Maplecroft." May you only win one of the big multistate lotteries, then purchase the manor, then restore it to as much of its Lizbethan glory as possible!

Bob G. and Albanyguy-- your repartee is stageworthy!

Thanks, DJ!

4:17 p.m. So the crime scene photos have been taken - autopsies in progress? Not a pretty job.

Thanks, DJ!

Night has fallen. Emma has finally arrived from Fairhaven (what the hell took her so long?). The crowds have dispersed, Bridget has bolted across the street for the night and everyone in the house has gone to bed. Wait a minute. Somebody's gone down to the cellar....