Breeching - Clothing... not Birth

I like the little things... no, we're not talking about 'sweating' the small stuff... but there are so many things that were different in the past that seem almost alien to people in the modern world. I think the most important thing is to keep learning and that, for me, means to keep reading books from the era and learning everything I can. It seems to help bring life to my books.

And that makes me happy!

One of my favorite parts about studying the Victorian Era are the pictures!!

When I was a Civil War Reenactor and Old West too I did a lot of studying pictures and books about period fabrics so I could pick fabrics for our clothes.

As far as pictures go, there's just something so precious about pictures of children... 

And there are lots of photos of boys in 'dresses' - 

When I mentioned it in a draft of a book I had a ton of questions about it... so I thought I'd make a little post about it.

I'm also going to give you some links to do your own reading if you'd like...

The Victoria and Albert Museum of Childhood tells us:

In Western European countries, until about 1920, boys would wear dresses until they were ‘breeched’. i.e. given their first outfit which included breeches or trousers. Breeching happened from the age of about four to eight-years-old, and varied according to different eras and families. A formal ceremony might also have taken place, to mark the boy’s progress from babyhood to boyhood, and sometimes a first haircut was also included. Up to the end of the 18th century, parents who could afford to may also have given their son a child-sized sword, or at least a toy weapon of some kind, as a token of the real sword he would own as an adult.

But... there may also be a fashionable reason for it... just like in the modern day many people pick their clothes because famous people wear them... when Duchess Kate wears a dress the style tends to sell out quickly. So where does the 'skirt' come from in a fashion sense? 

The Herald Bulletin Website talks about Queen Victoria's fashion choices for her children:

Queen Victoria ascended to the British throne in 1837 and served as a role model when she dressed her nine children in sailor suits and kilts which allowed a child to be more “natural.” This was a child-friendly way of dressing infants. Her fashion tastes quickly spread to other royal families of Europe.

I'm usually NOT a proponent of wikipedia as research but this page does seem to have it's ducks in a row... so I'm including it as a historical perspective.

Breeching (Boys)

So.. if you happen to see a mention in a book about the Old West/Western/Victorian Historical Romance of boys in dresses... now you'll know why.

Cooped Up: Falling for our Feathered Friends

Sometimes when you sit down to brainstorm a book, your mind goes on an odd journey... I found a photo and there was a perfect spot on the hat of the young woman where i could add something through photo editing. And being somewhat of a Victorian Era nut, I'd seen my share of add ons for a Victorian Hat and decided on a Bird... then I thought my hero could call my heroine 'Birdie' and what would make it even more fun? (At least for me) was to have a whole flock of chickens in the story!

I know a bunch of people that have chickens as part of their household and I feel a little sad and jealous when I talk to them because at the moment we are a chicken-less family. But that is neither here nor there.

When we first started to raise chickens it was because my son was a Boy Scout Camp Counselor. He was assigned to the Nature Hut and while he'd managed to capture one of the wild chickens at the camp, someone had let the chicken out and back into the wild.

What was a mom to do? I went to the local hatchery (which was conveniently about four blocks away in Kalihi, HI. The folks at the hatchery were so sweet... they gave us the whole rundown on chickens and their care and feeding and we left with some chicks that were extra from their last hatch. They went with me on the long drive up to Camp Pupukea on the North Shore of Oahu and spent about a week under a lamp for heat before they entered their big coop at the Nature Hut.

Once camp was over, my son brought them home. They were like his little babies and well, we were excited to have them at home since we were caring for my grandparents and my grandfather used to raise racing pigeons and liked the sound of birds.

Less than a month later, we started to have eggs. Eggs!  How awesome was that!

Well, part of the lesson from the hatchery was NOT to let the chickens get a taste for the eggs, because they will eat them if they get it in their head, so we learned the sound of the chickens as they laid the eggs and would rush out after we heard the fourth 'call' and use the long BBQ tongs to reach into the homemade coop and 'rescue' the eggs.

Now, all of my life, I've heard and read in books that chicks 'cheep' and chickens 'cluck' - well I'm here to challenge that notion. So much so because the four Pick-a-little ladies seemed to have three different languages. One they would use when it was just them outside. One when my mother or my son would go out to feed them. And one when I would go out to get the eggs and clean the coop.

I'm not kidding. I also will swear on any book that you want that they understood us... perhaps a little too well.

There was a week-long stretch where we only had three eggs from four chickens. Concerned for their health I went back to the hatchery. The lovely ladies there explained that if each wasn't laying an egg, there might be a blockage. So my job was to reach up INTO the egg vent and feel around for the blockage.

Okay, what?

Determined to help these babies and default members of the family, I went back to the house and sat down outside in front of the coop. I held up my hand and the four paced their way over to me. I strapped on a rubber glove that came from our endless supply of senior care items, and told the four feathered ladies that if the next day came and there were only three eggs... I would have to reach up into each of them until I found the blockage. I told them it was for their own good. It wasn't going to make me happy to do it. My son was at Band Camp and someone had to reach up in there and (yuck) take care of business.

The next morning, bright and early, I heard the chickens calling out after laying and when I went outside... we had four perfect eggs. Well goodness... wasn't that a funny twist and turn of events?

Eventually we had to leave the house in Kalihi when my grandfather passed away and our neighborhood wasn't zoned for four chickens... so we found a farm in Waimanalo that would allow the chickens to run free in the grass. So the farmer came to pick up our chickens and take them to his home.

To this day our family still misses our feathered friends. That's part of the reason why I added Chickens in "Home to Roost" It was a way to be close to them again, if only in my imagination.  It's a lot cleaner and less pecking. Still, nothing beats a cuddle from a big fluffy chicken.

HOME TO ROOST by: Reina Torres 

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Blog Tour Tuesday: Double Down on Love with Two Sweet Romances

When it was announced that the Winter release for Montana Sky Kindle World was going to be 'pairs of stories' released week after week, I was happy to have Nan O'Berry release on the same day with me. Nan & I write the "Three Rivers Express Series" set during the time of the Pony Express in Wyoming Territory 1860-1861.

We thought it might be fun to link out stories up from the opening scene. Both books start during a long night of gambling where my hero, Perceval "Hill" Hillard and her antagonist, Mr. Gaines are on their last hand of poker.

If you read both books, you'll see the opening scene told from their different perspectives. From there, the two stories diverge like paths in the woods.

See who wins a Gamble on Love!

Hold Her Close - by: Reina Torres - Amazon Link - http://a.co/gRd2Q2B

He was tired of gambling his life away, one lonely night after another. She was struggling to keep her family together. Maybe they could take a chance on love… together.

Perceval Hillard isn’t anything like his namesake from Arthurian Legend, but the men who sit down to a poker table with him, call him “Hill.” They knew they’d likely leave with their pockets empty and a sour look on their face. He’s made a fortune over his life and lost enough to know he’s nearly done. He wants a life away from the table. That didn’t mean marriage. What woman would want a man who’d made his living shuffling a deck of cards and that he’d wasted years of his life. 

Faith Carver could barely remember what it was like to be happy and carefree. All her younger brothers could remember were long days and cold nights. They lost their father first and their mother to illness after that. Selling off their mother’s precious collection of books has gotten them so far, but when their travels puts a strain on her brother’s health, they stop in Sweetwater Springs, and Faith needs to find a job to cover their expenses. 

Hill is sure he’s seeing things when he finds an angel wiping down the table at the Saloon. She was made for quiet days in a home full of things as beautiful as she is, not working until her hands are raw and red. When he finds out that Faith isn’t traveling alone, he’s surprised that he finds himself warming up to the Carver family instead of running in the opposite direction. Falling in love with an innocent like Faith might be the biggest gamble he’s ever made. 

When Faith decides it’s time for her and her brothers to move on, will Hill fold, or will he decide that this ready-made family is in the cards for him?

Ill Gotten Gaines - by: Nan O'Berry - Amazon Link - http://a.co/eu5gPeY

When a con man comes to town, no one is safe.

Penelope Clarke has had a tough go of it since her father died. She'd like nothing more than to marry the handsome rancher, Simon LeBlue, but the money for her dowry went to cover the cost of her father's funeral. Pride runs strong and she won't think about taking his name until she has the money back. Working at the saloon cleaning glasses and spittoons is not for the faint of heart, but its good honest work. If only something more respectable would turn up. Could Rupert Gaines hold the answer to her pressing needs?

Simon LeBlue wants to marry Penelope Clarke more than anything in the world. In fact, he has asked her on several occasions. If only he could get her to see he doesn't care about her dowry, he just wants her. He longs to take her away from that job at the saloon. When a mysterious man comes to town, Simon's doubts begin. Those doubts turn into heartache when his younger sister and half the town invest in Gaines’ so-called bank, before the man disappears. To make matters worse, Penelope has been left to take the blame. Can he find this ill-gotten Gaines and bring him back to restore Penelope's reputation?