Playground Tour 2021: The Cotter Reserve
The Cotter Reserve Playground is a little young for my kids now, but it was really the river we were there for.
She’s not really rolling her eyes, honest.
When I sat down and looked at the ten playgrounds on my list, I marked four as being interesting to the (adult, childless) refugee couple that we’re currently mentoring as part of the Castle of Kindness Refugee Sponsorship Group. This, being a gorgeous natural setting near the Cotter Dam with lots of great walks in the area, was one of them. So we had our family of four + another family that is joining the Castle of Kindness (and has a toddler with strong opinions) + two Iraqis.
One of the major challenges for this location is that the internet tends to drop out a few kilometres before you get there. That means that GPSes don’t work, and neither does Google Translate (which we rely on heavily with the refugee couple). So it was a relatively complex plan that actually came together rather well. I forgot to check the water quality (which, now that I look at it, was rated yellow—it passed 60%-90% of the time, apparently), but none of us fell over in it so I’m sure we’ll be fine. The Cotter Reserve is a paddling spot rather than a swimming spot.
We took sausages to cook but luckily the others had plenty of yummy food to share because there were heaps of people around and the BBQs were very much taken. The playground was popular too, but I did manage to take this picture of Chris and Tim without bothering to get up from my spot near the water.
The refugees really enjoyed exploring up and down the river, and I had a little paddle myself.
It’s common to see wildlife there (including brown snakes) but there were far too many people today.
Lizzie’s holding three fingers up because this is playground #3 of 10. The next on the list is the Arboretum, which will feature the exact same crowd, an incredible playground, and amazing views across Canberra.
Here are the maps I shared with various people to help us find each other. It’s a big area so we used the playground as a meeting place.
Casuarina Sands (which you can see on the top map, and which we passed on the way) is much better for swimming. So there are lots of ways to enjoy the area, which is gorgeous without being inaccessible.
Playground Tour 2021
Today we tackled Playgrounds #1 and #2.
- Point Hut Playground, Gordon
The tower is much scarier to climb that one would think.
Lizzie took this picture of the view:
I misspoke six years ago, largely dismissing this playground. It’s definitely one of the best in Canberra, and richly deserves to be on this tour. There were several parties happening there today but there was still plenty of space for everyone. It’s really five or six playgrounds in one big grassy area (and a basketball court, and a brilliant picnic spot), and has enough range that my kids cheerfully bounced from one place to another. I’ve noticed they’re starting to outgrow playgrounds (even if they haven’t realised it themselves) but there was a great range of climbing stuff which is at a perfect level for them—both fun and challenging.
After that, a not-very-surprising spanner in the works: we could not go to the George Gregan Playground, because it’s in a hospital. Given the lack of cases in the ACT (for many months) I thought we’d be okay so long as we sanitised like mad coming in and out. Of course I was wrong. There’s a pandemic on.
So instead we went to the new playground in Ginninderry, which of course wasn’t there six years ago. It’s maybe half the size of Point Hut, which is still a very respectable size, with lots of different things to do.
That’s a combination soccer/basketball field behind the merry-go-round. And very pretty mountains.
This climbing frame set up (there are others as well) was definitely a hit with the kids.
Spinny thing.
It also has a pretty pond nearby, with a bridge over it. I love a good pedestrian bridge (that’s not it, but another climbing thing).
We have a week of school to go, but soon we’ll be on to playground #3: At the Cotter Reserve. Hopefully with a bunch of friends along too.
Ten Playgrounds in One Day
Yes, I’m a teensy bit manic depressive. Some days I barely move. Other days I’m ON for hours and hours and I act like nothing hurts and nothing is hard.
This was one of those days, back in 2015 when Lizzie was three and Tim was just one year old. Overwhelmed with life and with all I couldn’t do with my children, I decided to throw common sense out the window and have an ADVENTURE. This is how it went:
- 1. Point Hut, Gordon. We arrived around 7:00am, ran across the playground, climbed the tower, and ran back to the car. The top floor of the tower is tilted.
This is the tower. As you can see, we started when it was still dark.
2. George Gregan at Canberra Hospital. At this point my adorable social butterfly was saying, “I want some kids here.” (I recommend GG because it’s super awesome, but also because it’s quiet.)
We always make sure to take some jumps off the crocodile. Oh! I forgot to mention that at this point it was six degrees outside.
3. Cotter Reserve Playground (just after the second bridge) although we barely touched the playground. She’s in swimmers and a towel jacket.
…and water shoes. My crocs went really well, but I refused to go deeper than (her) knees.
4. Arboretum Playground. I promised Louisette there’d be kids there, and I was right. She made two completely unrelated friends in the 40 or so minutes we were there – just enough time to go down all the slides a few times, then promise her a surprise at the next one. (I had of course a series of useful rewards planned out for the day; it was a test of her endurance as much as mine.)
At every playground, I asked, “Did you like this one or the last one best?” She always said emphatically, “This one!” until just after Questacon, and then said, “Questacon” for the last two. Then I attempted to get a definitive answer this evening and she was back to insisting that every playground we mentioned was her favourite. (PS You can see mountains in the background of this photo.)
5. (Somewhat easier for the pre-schooler hand to shape than 3 or 4.) The National Gallery Sculpture Garden, cunningly timed for. . .
The 12:30 fog sculpture. We sat beside the water waiting (I told her something surprising would happen at 12:30 because of a machine) and then hissssss, and suddenly fog rose from the ground before us. She was suitably impressed, and when the wall of white sent Evil Magician-style clouds right at us – blocking out the world – she stepped back. It was really eerie! After a bit we walked through it – cold and subtly wet – to the car.
6. Boundless! Directly across the lake (timed so we’d hear the Carillon play, although the Sculpture Garden would have done just as well). Those are water cannons. . . and swimmers.
Being there at lunchtime there was a single school group on their way out and then it was emptier than I’ve ever seen it. Louisette practised jumping on and off the merry-go-round, which was definitely something we need for the future – it goes seriously fast.
7. A water dragon (and two turtles not visible here) at Questacon’s Waterways exhibit. We also saw caged lightning and the earthquake centre – but deliberately avoided Mini-Q this time! Mum’s catch-cry was “Quickety-Quick!”
All kids love being able to manipulate large objects (including TJ), so this has always been a favourite. Plus I like photos of round things.
8. Commonwealth Park Castle. I had her crown in the car and forgot it! Ah well. She was reluctant to leave, but I promised a sleep in the car plus Nanny and TJ at the next one.
New umbrella 
You can see the castle down the path. (Other people call it the mouse house.) I love taking photos and having picnics here, but it involves a lot of crawling and very little visibility. (The crawling tends to tire kids out fast too – unless of course they make a friend. We had it to ourselves today, or it would have been very difficult to move on.)
9. Yerrabi Pond Adventure Playground. She’d had enough of taking photos with her hands in difficult number positions (I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did – changing locations is exhausting, but surprisingly helpful for preventing melt-downs – especially when there are snacks in the car.) I’d decided en route to save TJ for last, but Louisette didn’t mind because I still had one deux ex machine up my sleeve. . .
A bubble gun! It’s operated by blowing in the end and cost the princely sum of $4. (And she even modelled the crown I forgot at the caslte.)
10. John Knight Park Snake Playground. Poor Louisette is trying so hard to follow directions (as my mum holds tiger TJ steady on her lap) – ten fingers, and her face, and the snake at the top right.
Looking down from the top of the snake tower on TJ and my mum. After that we fed some extremely enthusiastic birds and then went home!
I love my special Lizzie time, and I love a good adventure.
Total cost: About $10 in parking (Arboretum, Sculpture Garden and Questacon – which can work with one ticket); Two days physical recovery if I don’t exercise (Thursday and Friday are writing days, so that works). We have Questacon membership so that was “free”.
Total time: A bit under 12 hours.
Worth it for me? When I can do something that is difficult but within my range of ability – and I know it’s something I do better than most – that has a value that can’t be measured. Even if/when it’s a manic episode. It generally only happens a few times a year, which is not enough.
Worth it for Louisette? She likes adventures, but would usually rather spend a day with a friend (although her ability to play nicely breaks down noticeably after an hour or two). We got to know each other better (I love how much fun it is to just talk to her these days), and I definitely feel that Boundless is the biz for the not-that-healthy parent of a moderately-sensible preschooler (although the shade and the seats were very far apart at noon). We went to several places that we wouldn’t normally attempt without Chris, and that was rewarding for Louisette, plus of course she’s once again the star of a unique family story. Although everything was her favourite sooner or later, I think paddling in the Cotter River was the most special, and the surprise fog and/or Questacon were the most immediately absorbing.
In summary:
- Point Hut Playground, Gordon. Cool tower; otherwise it’s only included here to be nice to South-siders.
- George Gregan Memorial playground. AWESOME and so photogenic, but inside a hospital so there’s a risk of infection maybe—and the parking is awful.
- Cotter Reserve Playground. If you’re going there, check the water quality here and keep an eye out for brown snakes. And of course water shoes are a good idea, but/and those underwater rocks are super slippery.
- Arboretum Playground. Super awesome and stunning views across Canberra but the main part involves a long and scary trek through large tubes and pods, followed by a pretty intense slide… if your kid needs reassurance, you’ll have to work hard to get them out.
- Sculpture Garden. Not technically a playground, but super cool, especially when the mist is on. And within hearing of the National Carillion.
- Boundless. Disability-friendly (including toilets) but parking isn’t great. Also near the Carillion (closer, actually; you can walk across the bridge to its island).
- Questacon. Expensive (and currently you need to book in advance) but really cool and educational. There’s a gallery especially for littlies called “Mini-Q” which is only open to those 6 and under and their families. Even when there’s not a pandemic on, you need to book for Mini Q as numbers are limited and it’s super popular.
- Commonwealth Park playground/mouse house. Very pretty, very hard on the knees. A fair walk from the nearest car park.
- Yerrabi Pond Adventure Playground. Lots to do.
- John Knight Park. Everyone who’s grown up in Canberra loves the snake playground, but it’s one of three playgrounds next to each other, and the waterfall, ponds, and lake are pretty (assuming your kid isn’t the kind to immediately hurl themself into the nearest body of water).
I reckon we’ll try to arrange to visit these ones with our refugee mentees, because they’re interesting to adults as well as kids.
Cotter Reserve Playground, for the nature.
Arboretum Playground for the views, and for the Bonsai Garden Exhibit.
Sculpture Garden. It’s part of the National Art Gallery so OF COURSE we’re taking our artist friend! We’ll try and time it to enjoy both the mist sculpture and the Carillion’s bells across the water.
John Knight Park. Including a BBQ, probably.
How to post a painting
The Marhaba Arts Etsy shop is shaping up nicely (still bits and pieces missing, but most of the important stuff is there). Qusay asked me to take a commission, which is ethically tricky because I’m a volunteer… but I don’t think Qusay is the type to efficiently run a shop, so my organisational skills are going to be useful for far longer than our official mentorship 6 months. I agreed to take 5% (the standard is 10-20%). And I’m doing a LOT to earn that. I’ve spent the last three days figuring out how to post a painting interstate. There’s a lot of specialised material involved, so I’m going to blog about it for those who find this kind of obscure knowledge fascinating. Almost all my knowledge is from the UPS.
Qusay uses acrylic paint on stretched canvas (on a wooden frame) in a wide range of sizes.
Step 1: Gather Your materials
The stuff you probably have:
Scissors
Tape Measure (unless you’re super confident of your ability to measure by eye)
The stuff you probably don’t have (and where I bought them):
Glassine/Acid Free Paper $2.95 per sheet (Eckersley’s Art Shop)
Painter’s Tape $8:90 per roll (up to half a roll per painting I reckon; Bunnings)
Cardboard Corner Protectors (Couldn’t find them so bought a small box for $1.80 and made them with box cutters and special Painter’s Packing Tape.. yes, there was blood)
Bubble Wrap $20 for a giant roll. I used half of it for a single A2ish size painting and could easily have used the whole roll. Bunnings.
Foam ($6.95 A3 size; $8.95 A2 size; $10.95 for A1 size OUCH) Eckersley’s Art Shop
Outer Box, should be bought new, $4.00
Painter’s Packing Tape: $1.70 per roll; I used about half a roll.
‘FRAGILE’ stickers, $3.40 for a pack of 50 (I used one each for front and back)
Possibly:
Corrugated cardboard 0.5cm x 64cm x 90cm $3:95 (I reckon I’ll use THAT instead of foam in future, especially for the back of the paintings).
Here’s the pretty pretty picture that has been sold to an acquaintance in Sydney for $300 + postage & packaging:
Step 1
Wrap it in glassine paper, secured with painter’s tape (the thinner blue tape, not the thicker painter’s packing tape).
And now, let’s see that picture with a cat because the more protective I am of something, the more interesting it becomes to my local hoard of beclawed goblins. (Note to self: warn buyers that the house contains cats as they may suffer allergies.)
2. Cardboard Corners, THEN Bubble Wrap, THEN foam. Like a foam sandwich. I put foam first because I liked the neatness. I’ll do it right next time.
NOTE: Keep the ‘flat’ side of the bubble wrap inside, so you don’t get indentations of the bubbles on your painting.
Also, don’t wrap any of it too tightly. At any point.
3. After you’re made your bubble wrap and foam sandwich, wrap the whole sandwich in more bubble wrap. Multiple layers of the stuff.
4. Time to shape your box. I think you can get custom boxes but either way there’ll be adjustment to do. It’s best to buy new boxes; they’re both prettier and stronger. I used the scissor handle to indent where I wanted new folds to go.
5. Fill in any gaps in your box with more bubble wrap, and reinforce every edge and seam with Painter’s packing tape (the clear stuff—it’s stronger than the blue painter’s tape).
6. Put fragile stickers on both sides.
So that cost $45, including two crazy expensive pieces of foam.
Tomorrow, I take it to the post office. My guess is that it’ll cost another $50 to post.
Edit: It cost $40 to post, including registering it and insuring it for $300.
Whatever it takes to make me Lizzie Bennet
I made a thing. No one find it as amusing as I do, but I thought I’d paste it here so y’all know I’m not dead.
Stuff is happening, especially with the refugee sponsorship group! Here’s a pretty pic of all our original members. It was taken in February, and our group has doubled in size since then.
We are mentoring an Iraqi couple, and Qusay (the man) is an exquisite artist. More on that soon, but here’s a taste!
YES I am in the process of setting up an Etsy store for him (and a designated web site, which isn’t live yet), with better pictures than that. It’s already live, but haven’t measured the paintings yet but will hopefully do that tomorrow. I will also set up the ability to order prints of each painting.
And Now For Something Completely Awesome
Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra are both on Netflix now, and I watched them both all the way through with Chris.
I’m aware that there are issues, particularly with Korra and the Westernisation of it all (especially Republic City), but I heartily enjoyed the 20s vibe of it all. There are also issues with the villains often making good points about societal problems (well-written villains, yay) that don’t really get dealt with (oopsy).
Both shows are really well written, beautifully animated, and you know what? Not even a tiny bit rapey! I especially liked the final season, which begins with Korra utterly destroyed physically and psychologically. A powerful woman having to rebuild herself from total weakness? As a disabled A-type person, that means a lot—especially the fact that it doesn’t happen quickly, and she goes into the climax not knowing if she can even win a fight against a single human person.
But today is my birthday, and the best thing about today is that, last night, I watched the very last episode of Korra.
SPOILERS!! Go watch every episode of both shows. I’ll wait 🙂
Here’s the final scene:
And here is a video compilation of various people reacting to that scene:
The finale of Korra first aired in December 2014. A little over six years ago. There are so many people outright weeping in the above video. Some of them are weeping in utter delight, and some of them weep a long while before the moment when Korra and Asami hold hands—weeping in pain, knowing that a beautiful, healthy, respectful girl-on-girl relationship couldn’t possibly happen. Especially in a children’s show, because gay people are considered dirty and perverse.
And then it happens, and it’s real, and it’s almost like a gay relationship is not dirty or shameful at all, but a beautiful and happy ending to a beautiful show. Then they cry even more.
Others fall on the floor, scream, and swear. There are two moments in the above video that really get me:
The woman who says, “Did that really happen? I’m just going to rewind it.”
I didn’t believe my eyes either. I turned to Chris and said, “That was gay, right?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “Korrassami. Totally gay. You really didn’t know about this?”
I shake my head.
“Thank goodness I didn’t accidentally spoil it for you.”
Indeed.
I was lucky; I avoided a lot of stress because I was able to watch both shows in a relatively short time span, without comparing notes to other new viewers in real time. That also meant I wasn’t discussing what I thought would happen with anyone. It was only in the last couple of episodes that I thought, “Hold on, Korra doesn’t have a love interest.” I winced, thinking she might end up back with Mako (even though their relationship clearly didn’t work) or Bolin (even worse), and then I thought, “Okay, so she gets to be a strong independent woman. Cool.”
Then, to my absolute amazement and delight, she instead got together—quietly, with barely a word spoken—with the character who was absolutely the most suited to her. And, although the showrunners didn’t get permission to have them kiss on screen (and weren’t able to lead up to it in obvious ways), it was very clear that these two beautiful women were now in a romantic relationship.
Which brings me to the second reaction from the above video that broke my heart in the best possible way.
In amongst all the swearing and “Oh my God”s, one woman says, “Jesus loves me this I know”. It’s the first verse of a Sunday School song popular with the teachers of very young children:
Jesus loves me this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to Him belong
They are weak but He is strong.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
The Bible tells me so.
It is absolutely heartbreaking that two fictional girls holding hands could possibly make a person feel, in an unguarded moment, like maybe Jesus really does love her after all.
Six years later, there are way more examples of healthy, happy, gay relationships in both fiction and real life. I’ve written and published a bunch myself. And if one of my stories makes another queer person feel, even just for a moment, that maybe Jesus DOES love them after all. . . then happy birthday me.
Today is a good day.
PS I am now reading roughly 1,000,000 internet articles about Korra, and I’m reminded that Bolin kissed someone who was DEFINITELY not into him, back in Season 1. Not okay, Bolin. Even you are not that dumb.
PPS Also, there were loads of hints about Korrasami throughout the entire show, but I didn’t register them because I assumed they were both straight. Silly me 🙂
To Sir Phillip, Get Lost You Creep
Finally I’m up to Book 5, aka To Sir Phillip With Love aka the one about Eloise, at last.
Spoilers.
Also, content warning: depression, suicide, sex, childbirth, and rape.
No. Stop. Burn it. Burn them all.
Oh, this SUCKS. This sucks so much, it turns all previous non-sucky moments into pure suckitude.
Julia Quinn, what is WRONG with you?
Rest of the world, WHY did you buy these books?
The love interest is an actual, literal rapist. THIS is who intelligent, feminist Eloise is meant to live with? THIS is her happily ever after?
No.
Every single book in this series is just so rapey, but this one is worst of all.
There are ameliorating circumstances, to a limited extent. The rape happens when Sir Phillip’s first wife, who was always badly depressed, is even more depressed after giving birth to twins. Sir Phillip waits until he’s sure that she’s physically recovered from the birth* and then goes and has sex with her. Although she “doesn’t say no” it is “like having sex with a corpse” and he’s so sickened by the whole thing that he throws up afterwards, and then doesn’t have sex for eight years.
In case it’s not obvious, she is too depressed (and too aware of her “marital duties”—sadly women often WERE raped by their husbands, and still are today) to say no to him. But obviously, it’s still rape.
One of the most icky tropes plays out through this book: the idea that women are a strange exotic species that can’t possibly be understood by men.
It’s not romantic, it’s lazy. And it is directly linked to “grey rape” scenarios like the above, where the man supposedly doesn’t know he’s raping someone.
Even though he’s having sex with (or rather ‘at’) someone who is as responsive as, to quote the text again, “a corpse”.
How long did he spend thrusting into his completely dry wife? We know he had an orgasm.
It is perfectly obvious when a woman is not into having sex with you. Any decent man knows that sex hurts for a woman if she’s not at least a little turned on. (Which begs the question of how many other times he used her like a blow-up doll in the past.) If you have sex, you make sure that the woman is ready before you penetrate her. EVERY decent human does that. Every time. She doesn’t even have to say anything. Her breath might quicken, she may give you a sexy look. She may open her legs.
It’s. Not. Rocket. Science.
It’s also not a modern invention. Yes, women have had it worse in historical times. But we’ve still had good and bad sex, and known the difference—and shown the difference in our behaviour, our words, and how we relate to our menfolk the rest of the time (shrinking away in horror? Avoiding him? Or seeking him out, touching him as we pass, exchanging secret we-totally-had-sex smiles across a crowded room).
So don’t give me “historical accuracy”. Jane Austen somehow managed never to be rapey, not even a little bit.
But in every book, Quinn emphasises how big and tall the men are; how strong—which is all fine—and how they use their superior strength and status (as men, as husbands, as rich people, as a higher class) to intimidate the women they ‘love’—which is not.
Clearly Quinn thinks that a man threatening to rape his wife is sexy. Apparently she even thinks a decent man could rape his wife, get his orgasm, and all the while not realise that he’s raping her.
No.
I understand that there’s an appealing element to a strong, powerful man who totally could rape or kill or financially ruin a woman, and never ever will. But it’s not okay for a man to deliberately loom over a woman in an argument. That’s step one on the road to physical abuse (it starts with scaring her with a load voice or scary posture, then he breaks physical objects to intimidate her, then he physically hurts her).
So I won’t be reading any more Bridgerton books.
(It’s worth mentioning that Daphne rapes Simon in both Book 1 and in the TV show’s Season 1. It’s slightly less cut and dried in the TV series… more like theft of his sperm, but at a very vulnerable moment that should have been sacred and loving. But it’s still using sex to gain power over another person. I forgave it in part because it was still physically possible for him to stop her, and it was clearly a one-off. Also he refused to have sex with her after that, which was rational. They didn’t have sex again until trust was restored.)
And yes, the character of Eloise was absolutely unrecognisable. It was almost better that way, because the alternative was to say that she “grew up” and that’s why she didn’t want to go to university or rail against the plight of women any more.
Sigh.
I’m so angry, and depressed, and scared. Scared because this whole rapey/power thing is considered okay, which it is NOT.
The good news is that I’m working on a story set in the Regency Era myself, and anger is a great motivator for creating better art.
*As someone who’s had kids, the first time after sex is a big deal and needs a lot of discussion before, during and afterwards. If you’re a man, try using a cheese grater on your genitals and then see how you feel about your sex life. (Even when it’s healed, it’ll never be the same.)
Romancing Mister Bridgerton
Did I like it?
Yes.
Was it rapey?
Fundamentally, no.
This was a good book! Yay!
The author also avoided having her main couple commit violence on anyone/each other, AND she avoided the phrase “ancient rhythm”. So congratulations to her. The only truly annoying thing (which has, sadly most definitely been taken up by the TV show) is the use of “indeed”. It gets thrown onto the end of sentences willy-nilly and is annoying.
On the other hand, having, like, been a teenager in, like, the 90s… I should probably, like, admit that meaningless words do tend to breed when left unchecked. And not just in, like, fiction.
On to Eloise! Will the most interesting character be reduced to a heteronormative cliche?
Let’s find out. . .
An Offer From A Gentleman: ugh or ooh?
I was disappointed to note that this book is about Benedict, because I’m hanging out to read Eloise’s story (mainly because she doesn’t want to marry and does want to go to university and I’m terrified to see her spirit crushed into the “hetero marriage and many many babies” mould… I’m desperately hoping I don’t hate her story even more than I hated the second book in the series).
On to Book 3!
Spoilers, darling!
Benedict is the artist of the family. It’s a little ironic that he’s a tad depressed at being largely interchangeable with his brothers, when the characters of the brothers tend to be largely interchangeable within the text too. (I’m being a little mean, there’s at least one adjective that sets each brother apart: The oldest is the oldest; Benedict is an artist; Colin is funny—ooh, and he likes to travel. That’s two things.
Book 3 is 100% a Cinderella story, and it adapts very well into the Regency setting. Also, Benedict is attracted to the heroine because of her joy.
Thus, the entire first half of the book is genuinely good.
The author even manages to refrain from describing vigorous sex with the phrase “ancient rhythm” (although I’ll certainly report any further uses of that phrase, as she’s still using it an average of once per book). It felt sufficiently different to the first two books that it was worth bothering to read—mainly because the heroine was in a VERY different class, which meant all their interactions were a lot freer than in the other books.
Except… in their very first interaction, Benedict believed the heroine was of the same class as him, and he took her to a private balcony and kissed her which…. huh? We’ve spent two books talking about how women of that class will be ruined forever if they’re alone in a room with a man. So either Benedict is a right a-hole, or the author got a bit bored of intense glances across a ballroom and decided to rush into the hanky panky this time. Which, for the sake of novelty, I shall forgive. None of us are actually living in Regency times, and we’re not in this for the historical accuracy.
No one got accidentally OR accidentally-on-purpose forced into marriage, which was nice for a change. They even had sex before marriage, which—again, for the sake of variety, I would forgive (especially since she actually bled slightly, so points for realism there). . .
except
once again, things got rapey.
*sigh*
The ‘offer’ of the title seems to be Benedict’s offer to graciously invite the heroine to become his mistress.
What a . . . gentleman.
The heroine vehemently refuses him, many many times (he’s all like, “But… so much MONEY?!?! Don’t you GET IT? Are you just stupid?”) She is not at all being coy. Yes, she’s a virgin. She’s also a bastard, which is 100% why her life sucks. She is determined not to do that to her own kids.
And, although it’s not spelled out in the text, a mistress is in an extremely precarious position. She’s wealthy only so long as the man who likes having on-tap sex continues to find her convenient. So if she gets old, or sick, or he marries… she’s suddenly lost everything. Being wealthy and dependent on a fickle man is better than having nothing at all, but it IS basically a step above high-class prostitute. Which is fine if that’s your choice. It very clearly isn’t hers.
But Benedict picks at her and picks at her, cajoles her and threatens her. He refuses to let her find her own employment, and instead literally forces her into his mother’s household. Yes, it’s a fantastic workplace… except he lives on the same street and actively stalks her around the house, waiting for her in dark corners and popping up the second she’s alone, etc.
You know, like the slimy and awful male progeny of all the worse households of this era (and this specific book). He is physically strong, wealthy, influential… she is completely at his mercy, and even though she tries over and over and over and over again to avoid him (and anyplace he might show up) he makes himself impossible to avoid.
So he doesn’t technically assault her, but he 100% definitely harasses her, traps her, stalks her, and makes her entire life a misery.
(She also gets nearly gang-raped by a previous master and his friends, which HE KNOWS but does not connect to his own lecherous behaviour in any way.)
It works out in the end, he marries her, and I forgive him. It’s not his fault he’s badly written.
But I don’t forgive the author. Did she even read this book? Does she understand what women are like?
There’s some punching-style violence by the two main characters, again. Maybe the author should be writing action heroes instead? (Witty ones; she certainly is witty.)
Girl, I get the fantasy of a wealthy man who happens to be handsome and funny and so on. No one minds getting true love and worldly riches at the same time. But when you have super powerful men constantly forcing your very innocent and powerless heroines to do what they want… that’s a rape fantasy, not a romance.
Please stop.
And don’t you dare do awful things to Eloise.
I love her, and I shudder to think what you’re going to do to her.
In all fairness to Julia Quinn, CLEARLY I’m devouring all her books so she can’t be that bad an author, can she?
7 Things to Know About Chronic Illness
7 Things to Know About Chronic Illness
(from someone who is fat, female, mentally ill, and chronically ill with fibromyalgia including migraines)
- Medical gaslighting is a huge issue, especially for women (especially pregnant women, fat women, mentally ill women, those who struggle to communicate clearly in English, and most of all women of colour). ‘Gaslighting’ means convincing someone that something true is not true eg When a patient reports severe pain but a doctor tells them the pain is normal (because the doctor doesn’t immediately find an easy solution either due to laziness, lack of knowledge, or unconscious bias against women/chronically ill people/people of colour/etc).
This is often literally fatal. Women of colour are the most vulnerable to medical gaslighting, which is a factor in these awful statistics (these are all focusing on Aboriginal people, but you can extrapolate for refugees): 
2. Women’s medical health is poorly studied. Medical researchers are aware that male and female bodies react differently to medication, so a shocking number of trials only study men in order to simplify results. Many medical conditions that are specific to women (eg to do with periods or childbirth) have barely been studied, and chronic diseases like fibromyalgia that effect more women than men are often dismissed as psychological conditions (the modern equivalent of Victorian-Era doctors describing any female patient’s issues as ‘hysteria’). Around 10% of women suffer from endometriosis, a condition in which period tissue grows in or on other organs. It causes extreme pain, infertility, and many other issues. One of my friends had severe endometriosis and was told by her mother and by doctors not to complain so much about her bad periods. When she attempted to have a child in her early twenties, the internal scarring was so severe that she was not able to conceive naturally. That was 100% preventable if anyone had listened to her. It’s not like endometriosis is even rare! And guess what? One of the treatments is COUNSELLING. Do you think doctors would recommend counselling for a broken leg? Another woman I know bled heavily, including clots, from the rectum during every period. A gynaecologist told her that her body was “special and unique” and advised her not to seek further treatment. Rectal bleeding can be a symptom of bowel endometriosis, or bowel cancer.
3. Many so-called “invisible” illnesses such as migraines, chronic fatigue, fibromyalgia, and depression cause weight gain. Some people eat badly in order to deal with constant pain; some have hormonal imbalances; some take medication that causes weight gain; etc. Western society reacts very differently to those who are underweight than those who are overweight. An underweight person is accepted/celebrated (usually—plenty of people feel free to comment on a woman’s “health” aka weight, even if they are complete strangers). An overweight person is always condemned, and that is especially true in the medical community as “concern trolling” is the usual form of fatphobia ie people say they are concerned about a woman’s weight when really they simply dislike looking at her (or are fighting so hard to stay in an acceptable weight range themselves that they cannot cope with someone else being fat and happy). With doctor’s extra power, this gets extremely harmful extremely fast. Personal story: I am unable to diet because it sends my mental health into very dangerous territory within 24 hours. I have had weight-loss surgery (surgery is extremely serious) recommended to me by: several GPs, a diabetes specialist, a neurologist, a dermatologist, nutritionists, and many more. You’ll note that none of them are even surgeons. One side effect of weight loss surgery is that if the patient overeats, they get diarrhea. Since I am highly intolerant of many vegetables due to being intolerant of FODMAPs and salicylates, I get diarrhea a LOT (and all the more if I eat “healthy” food). It would definitely not stop me eating junk food. Yet surgery gets recommended to me by almost every medical professional I see, regardless of their specialty. It is dumb and dangerous. No doctor has ever mentioned to me the dangers of dieting (which are considerable, and far greater than simply being overweight).
4. For all these reasons, it takes a long, long time to get a diagnosis for any kind of chronic illness (plus I bet doctors would rather it was something neat and solvable). During that time the patient will constantly be exhausted by medical visits and tests while simultaneously being told that they’re just lazy or making it all up. This is also true of neurodiverse conditions such as autism. It is common for a diagnosis to take 5-10 years. So if someone has a chronic illness, (a) Believe and support them unconditionally, including taking them to specialists and probably several specialists in the same field until you find one that actually listens to them. (b) Know that they’re in this for the long haul. Sometimes life just sucks are there aren’t easy answers—especially when someone has been through trauma, and their body has been permanently damaged in a mysterious way as a result. But a diagnosis is worth fighting for IF the patient is physically and psychologically able to fight.
5. Be aware that medical stuff is genuinely terrifying, and exhausting, and that there is often a lot of trauma that comes from merely seeing doctors (or existing in a world that judges a person based on their weight, their poor grooming—because chronically ill people are too tired to look good—their gender, and most of all the colour of their skin.
6. Gotta Catch ‘Em All! Someone with one chronic condition is likely to have (or get) more. The body gets stressed, and it gets sicker in new and exciting ways. When someone with one condition starts thinking they have more than one, they’re not crazy or a hypochondriac or trying to get attention. They’re almost certainly right. (Yes, even the mentally ill ones. We KNOW we’re mentally ill and we’re used to spending every day sorting rational from irrational thoughts.)
7. Disability or chronic illness is not the end of the world. Way too much media says, “I’d rather die than be disabled” and that’s really not helpful! Yes, be sympathetic if someone wants sympathy, but don’t bother ranking whether someone’s life is better or worse overall. I’m clinically depressed and at the same time I’m kind of content and happy with my life. Weird but true. Most of the time, the constant barrage of negative thoughts is something I am strong enough to keep at bay. Most disabled or chronically ill people never get better, and that’s okay. Life can still be good, and the fight to make it a bit better is usually worth it.
Felicity Banks 