Make hay while the sun shines
Mar. 17th, 2012 12:58 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
goddessnanshe.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
estdeus_innobisMid-afternoon of Tuesday, 29th June
The Abbey
It's a bright warm day, and the church, my church, rings with the sound of a community in song. Every pew is filled, and there are even people standing at the back of the church and spilling onto the porch, leaning into the doorway to hear Ash's words, and singing out familiar hymns of summer and farmwork through the stone of the church and out into the bright air. Some of our farmers - I know them all by name, John Hale, Jasper Thornton, Lucille Cliff, Alex Brown, their dreams familiar to me as neighbours - bring a bale of new hay to the altar in offering, and my throat is tight.
Please, I pray. Please let their prayers be granted. May I still be able to do some good.
It's strange, to be able to feel such joy and such grief at once. I have such pride in my people, and such helpless frustration at what I have become.
The service ends, and everyone goes into the fresh air. Tonight they will dance together at the new hall, kick up tired heels and shake out aching muscles into new, pleasanter aches of dancing and socialising and celebrating after hard labour. For now, our community here has moved tables out from the dining hall into the yard, and the congregation has brought pies and cider to share. Children run giggling between the tables, hay in their hair, and I laugh looking at them, and feel a terrible tender pain in my heart, wanting them to be as safe as this always.
[open]
The Abbey
It's a bright warm day, and the church, my church, rings with the sound of a community in song. Every pew is filled, and there are even people standing at the back of the church and spilling onto the porch, leaning into the doorway to hear Ash's words, and singing out familiar hymns of summer and farmwork through the stone of the church and out into the bright air. Some of our farmers - I know them all by name, John Hale, Jasper Thornton, Lucille Cliff, Alex Brown, their dreams familiar to me as neighbours - bring a bale of new hay to the altar in offering, and my throat is tight.
Please, I pray. Please let their prayers be granted. May I still be able to do some good.
It's strange, to be able to feel such joy and such grief at once. I have such pride in my people, and such helpless frustration at what I have become.
The service ends, and everyone goes into the fresh air. Tonight they will dance together at the new hall, kick up tired heels and shake out aching muscles into new, pleasanter aches of dancing and socialising and celebrating after hard labour. For now, our community here has moved tables out from the dining hall into the yard, and the congregation has brought pies and cider to share. Children run giggling between the tables, hay in their hair, and I laugh looking at them, and feel a terrible tender pain in my heart, wanting them to be as safe as this always.
[open]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 06:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-20 09:53 pm (UTC)"Maybe it will pass. It's just thst he's new and wonderful--maddening, but wonderful--and very...educational."
She's blushing again, but I don't think she's embarrassed. Grin and shake my head. "I think that about describes him," I agree easily. "Wonderful and maddening. May want to add 'infuriating' in there as well." I suggest with a chuckle.
Lean back and tilt my head towards the sun a bit. "So, have you lost interest in Jamie then?" I ask, then turn my face to her. "I'm just asking so I know if I should talk to him about you or not."
no subject
Date: 2012-03-21 06:45 am (UTC)She looks so beautiful in the sunlight, all milky skin and shining hair. And she asks me about Jamie. I look down at my own rough, brown hands, remembering my mother painting them with mehndi for my wedding. "I don't think I'll ever lose interest in Jamie," I say softly. "But we can't--we didn't make that-that marriage."
I look up at Wanda, feeling tears in my eyes in spite of the wonderful day. "We did make something else, though, and I'm not, not keeping it. When he finds out about that, I doubt he'll want anything to do with me." I think I know what kind of man he is, and he'd say it was ours and want to keep it, never mind that it's growing inside me.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 12:17 am (UTC)Feel my own throat tighten a little, and my heart twist. Oh, I think I know that feeling. "Well, there's still hope. Dreams may not make a marriage..." Take a moment to clear my throat, I will not be sad. Not now. "but dreaming about what may be is a great way to start." There, stay positive. And find Jamie and kick his ass for not tracking Jane down.
"We did make something else, though, and I'm not, not keeping it. When he finds out about that, I doubt he'll want anything to do with me."
It take a minute, to put together her bright, wet eyes with the words she's saying. Oh.... OH. I straighten up and try to figure out what to say. "Ah... well..."
I was in the same position she's in now. Maybe not exactly the same, but that decision... it's not easy. Rub the back of my neck with my hand. "I'm sorry. For the position you are in." I say quietly, touching the back of her hand lightly.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 07:39 am (UTC)When she touches my hand, I sniffle a little. I know I'm being terribly maudlin, and it isn't helping a thing. "I wish life were like baking," I say when I've composed myself a little. "So you could set out all the things you needed and mix them together and time everything to come out perfectly."
no subject
Date: 2012-03-22 10:17 pm (UTC)