The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her.

[janeveniver.livejournal.com]

Friday afternoon, June 18th
Day 383
The General Store

I have seen Dorian three times since Sunday and Jamie not once. This has been very pleasant. The yellow dress is still hidden in my closet, but every time I go to see him, Dorian contrives to spirit away part of what I’m wearing. It is a very peculiar talent, but since he is sufficiently distracting and always replaces the garment with something lovely, I haven’t complained very much. Dorian has complained incessantly, except when his mouth has been full of pie.

I believe he enjoys my company, though his tongue is very tart sometimes. I am not afraid of him, though, and argument can make a very pleasant counterpoint to other activities. I hope he will come to see me at the market tomorrow, but I have a few more things to buy before I’m quite ready to open for sale, just a few ounces of sanding sugar for the crusts of the sweet pies and some salt to go in the savory ones. I do hope Glass will be working, not Amanda. I’ve never been terribly sure about Miss O’Hara, either.


OPEN to Glass
CLOSED

The quickest way to know a woman is to go shopping with her.

[janeveniver.livejournal.com]

Friday afternoon, June 18th
Day 383
The General Store

I have seen Dorian three times since Sunday and Jamie not once. This has been very pleasant. The yellow dress is still hidden in my closet, but every time I go to see him, Dorian contrives to spirit away part of what I’m wearing. It is a very peculiar talent, but since he is sufficiently distracting and always replaces the garment with something lovely, I haven’t complained very much. Dorian has complained incessantly, except when his mouth has been full of pie.

I believe he enjoys my company, though his tongue is very tart sometimes. I am not afraid of him, though, and argument can make a very pleasant counterpoint to other activities. I hope he will come to see me at the market tomorrow, but I have a few more things to buy before I’m quite ready to open for sale, just a few ounces of sanding sugar for the crusts of the sweet pies and some salt to go in the savory ones. I do hope Glass will be working, not Amanda. I’ve never been terribly sure about Miss O’Hara, either.


OPEN to Glass
CLOSED

Childhood is over the minute you know you are going to die.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[Night of Thursday, June 17th (day 382)]
[Glass's apartment]

Spit and staunchweed, she's small. Has it in her to be loud, and then there's cleaning, but that's surely a given. Sit down with her in the kitchen--on the floor, making sure I'm 'tween her and the stove--and tilt my head to one side.

"Your mam says you like stories," I say after a moment. "Mind, I'd guess you understand her stories better'n mine. Still an' all." Consider her a moment, and don't have anything to say, and she... well, suppose it's not a mutter nor a squeak, speaking proper. Still, might be the beginning of fussing.

( Glass's idea of bedtime stories. )

"She's getting better, maybe," I say after a moment. "Mind, she starts working her wounds over how horrible things are, and no-one else is there, it is your job to have her getting up and setting her hand t'something that'll actually do good. Take her out for a walk or throw up or something as means she needs t'pull herself t'gether and do something." Point at her and yes, she's able t'watch well enough, and after a moment sit back a little and stretch. "I know it's on her to watch you, as she's your mam, but you mind her nonetheless. So, we were speaking of land of the dead. Came a day daughter of the green was out afield..."

[Closed]

Childhood is over the minute you know you are going to die.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[Night of Thursday, June 17th (day 382)]
[Glass's apartment]

Spit and staunchweed, she's small. Has it in her to be loud, and then there's cleaning, but that's surely a given. Sit down with her in the kitchen--on the floor, making sure I'm 'tween her and the stove--and tilt my head to one side.

"Your mam says you like stories," I say after a moment. "Mind, I'd guess you understand her stories better'n mine. Still an' all." Consider her a moment, and don't have anything to say, and she... well, suppose it's not a mutter nor a squeak, speaking proper. Still, might be the beginning of fussing.

( Glass's idea of bedtime stories. )

"She's getting better, maybe," I say after a moment. "Mind, she starts working her wounds over how horrible things are, and no-one else is there, it is your job to have her getting up and setting her hand t'something that'll actually do good. Take her out for a walk or throw up or something as means she needs t'pull herself t'gether and do something." Point at her and yes, she's able t'watch well enough, and after a moment sit back a little and stretch. "I know it's on her to watch you, as she's your mam, but you mind her nonetheless. So, we were speaking of land of the dead. Came a day daughter of the green was out afield..."

[Closed]