frances hosdon burnett

When it gets to be bitterly cold like this, and the snow flurries more like soap flakes and less like frozen rain, I am reminded of Miss Minchin’s Seminary for Young Ladies (I’m talking the ’90s movie version). I don’t know if it’s because of the–spoiler alert–window scene where Sara and Ram Dass have their dance-in-remembrance-of-India moment, or Sarah giving the buns to the rose lady in the blustering cold, or maybe the girls bundled up walking, olive-colored dropwaist dresses and ties rumpled underneath. Regardless, I have adopted the dropwaist and tie at my very own private school to survive the miserable snow and have named the weather Lavinia.