Harvest Festival

Mar. 19th, 2009 01:17 pm
[identity profile] kateohara.livejournal.com
Wednesday, September 23rd, early evening

From my bedroom I can hear a band tuning up outside. I smile and look out of the window. Stalls are being put up all along Main Street, and at the end nearest the river there's been a temporary stage erected. Bunting flutters in the breeze, and I smile, because we have two things to celebrate today - the harvest, and Edmund's win. I am so happy for him! That good news, along with the meeting we had on Monday, has left me feeling quite optimistic. It's true that we didn't find anything in particular to help us, but we started to get some ideas, and maybe more importantly I think it helped to know that there was a group of us willing to act. We've arranged to meet regularly, and I think good things should come of our meetings. I plan to spend some time in the library during the week, too, to try to make myself useful. I don't have any specialist knowledge about any of these things, unlike some of my friends, so I have some learning to do.

I wasn't sure what to wear. I thought about the dress I wore to Hermia's party, because with a jacket it would be warm enough, but I decided it would be a little dressy. Besides, if I see Laurence tonight, I don't want to remind him of an event we went to together. I feel a little cramp as I think of Laurence, but all the same, I hope I see him today... It's been a few days, and I want to see him for myself so that I know he is well, or as well as can be expected. That doesn't help me decide what I want to wear, because I don't want to appear like I am too lighthearted because that will hurt his feelings, but I don't want him to think I look plain. Which is selfish of me, really, and I shouldn't care if he has a low opinion of me. But I do. In the end I take out a sober but fitted navy wool dress. I don't think I've worn this since last autumn... I check my hair in the mirror again and touch up my lipstick, and then I go outside.

I see Mrs Wilson and Amanda manning the raffle stall, so I of course stop and buy a couple of tickets. Amanda looks happy and excited, but Mrs Wilson looks so careworn these days. She still hasn't heard from Edith; no one knows where she went after she attacked Jamie's sister. It's a horrible thing... I see another stall where you can pay a dollar and throw a wet sponge at someone. Toby Hutchinson seems to have volunteered to sit in the chair, but he seems like the council member least likely to have people throw things at him... I spot that a couple of the Saturday market traders have put up stalls selling knicknacks and laces and ribbons... And there's the abbey stall, which is selling homemade ginger ale and apple juice... John Longfellow, Terence Longfellow's nephew, is with the band. They are playing some cheerful country music, and I know once they get going there'll be a few girls standing around, because although he's not the handsomest young man, John has a good voice and a fine smile, and that seems to be enough. I wonder who else will be playing tonight?

I sit down on a bench and watch things begin to come together. It looks like it should be a lovely evening.

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Harvest Festival

Mar. 19th, 2009 01:17 pm
[identity profile] kateohara.livejournal.com
Wednesday, September 23rd, early evening

From my bedroom I can hear a band tuning up outside. I smile and look out of the window. Stalls are being put up all along Main Street, and at the end nearest the river there's been a temporary stage erected. Bunting flutters in the breeze, and I smile, because we have two things to celebrate today - the harvest, and Edmund's win. I am so happy for him! That good news, along with the meeting we had on Monday, has left me feeling quite optimistic. It's true that we didn't find anything in particular to help us, but we started to get some ideas, and maybe more importantly I think it helped to know that there was a group of us willing to act. We've arranged to meet regularly, and I think good things should come of our meetings. I plan to spend some time in the library during the week, too, to try to make myself useful. I don't have any specialist knowledge about any of these things, unlike some of my friends, so I have some learning to do.

I wasn't sure what to wear. I thought about the dress I wore to Hermia's party, because with a jacket it would be warm enough, but I decided it would be a little dressy. Besides, if I see Laurence tonight, I don't want to remind him of an event we went to together. I feel a little cramp as I think of Laurence, but all the same, I hope I see him today... It's been a few days, and I want to see him for myself so that I know he is well, or as well as can be expected. That doesn't help me decide what I want to wear, because I don't want to appear like I am too lighthearted because that will hurt his feelings, but I don't want him to think I look plain. Which is selfish of me, really, and I shouldn't care if he has a low opinion of me. But I do. In the end I take out a sober but fitted navy wool dress. I don't think I've worn this since last autumn... I check my hair in the mirror again and touch up my lipstick, and then I go outside.

I see Mrs Wilson and Amanda manning the raffle stall, so I of course stop and buy a couple of tickets. Amanda looks happy and excited, but Mrs Wilson looks so careworn these days. She still hasn't heard from Edith; no one knows where she went after she attacked Jamie's sister. It's a horrible thing... I see another stall where you can pay a dollar and throw a wet sponge at someone. Toby Hutchinson seems to have volunteered to sit in the chair, but he seems like the council member least likely to have people throw things at him... I spot that a couple of the Saturday market traders have put up stalls selling knicknacks and laces and ribbons... And there's the abbey stall, which is selling homemade ginger ale and apple juice... John Longfellow, Terence Longfellow's nephew, is with the band. They are playing some cheerful country music, and I know once they get going there'll be a few girls standing around, because although he's not the handsomest young man, John has a good voice and a fine smile, and that seems to be enough. I wonder who else will be playing tonight?

I sit down on a bench and watch things begin to come together. It looks like it should be a lovely evening.

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ELECTION DAY

Mar. 11th, 2009 12:47 pm
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Monday, 21 September, from the morning and ongoing until 5pm

Phil Marshall's boys have finished putting up the voting booth next to the town noticeboard at the bottom of Main Street. It's a simple affair - just a curtain on a rail - but I'm glad I insisted on it. Last time we had elections, people had to write their ballots in plain view and drop them in the box. No surprises about who got elected that time...

I sit down at the table I've put next to the booth. On it there's a stack of voting slips, some pens, and my list of registered taxpayers. When someone comes to vote, I tick their name off and hand them a slip with the two choices on it: CASSANDRA O'LEARY and EDMUND WHITE. Simple enough, although I know by the end of the day I'll have dealt with a dozen people who find the procedure too complex to grasp, or who have spoiled their ballots and need another... I shiver as a cold wind comes down the street, and I button up my coat. I really hope it doesn't rain today, or this is going to be miserable. This is why we need a town hall. It's all very well having the mayor and council have an office, but if we had a town hall, the town could actually meet. Of course, there are a few people on the council who aren't actually that keen to give the town a say, and I frown. I really hope Edmund gets in. He's a good friend, but that's not the main reason. Cassandra's a great woman - a good mother, great businesswoman, and it has to be said, she's pretty - but she's pretty conservative... And if she gets in, I think Robert Reaves will have a shoe-in, and that is not something I relish.

Bang on 9am Cassandra comes along, looking very neat in a powder blue suit, and cast her own vote. I know that people have been talking a lot about blue being a good colour since that weird dream went round, so I'm sure she didn't wear the colour accidentally. I'm also sure it wasn't an accident that Cassandra was overheard in town saying how she was sure Edmund was a nice man, but he must get lonely without a partner or child, and so no doubt that was why he'd spent so much time at the brothel. She followed that up, so I hear, with the remark that of course she was busy in the evenings looking after her daughter, so she was impressed he had time to socialise. Oh, well. Politics is a dirty business. I just hope it hasn't put too many people off. Now Cassandra's hanging about, talking to people and giving out - oh, good lord, homemade cookies. Isn't that bribery? Unfortunately, we don't have any rules about giving out baked goods. I've told her at any rate she can't stand more than 10ft close to the ballot box in case she's seen to be trying to intimidate voters. So she's standing pretty much exactly 10ft away from me with a basket. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. What a day. And it's only just started. Now a little queue has started forming, and so I start dishing out the ballots. I really hope Concetta will remember to come out and give me a break at lunchtime...

[Open to townsfolk to cast their ballots, meet and talk. You can't expect interaction from Toby, but of course feel free to say hello and take your ballot from him!]
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ELECTION DAY

Mar. 11th, 2009 12:47 pm
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Monday, 21 September, from the morning and ongoing until 5pm

Phil Marshall's boys have finished putting up the voting booth next to the town noticeboard at the bottom of Main Street. It's a simple affair - just a curtain on a rail - but I'm glad I insisted on it. Last time we had elections, people had to write their ballots in plain view and drop them in the box. No surprises about who got elected that time...

I sit down at the table I've put next to the booth. On it there's a stack of voting slips, some pens, and my list of registered taxpayers. When someone comes to vote, I tick their name off and hand them a slip with the two choices on it: CASSANDRA O'LEARY and EDMUND WHITE. Simple enough, although I know by the end of the day I'll have dealt with a dozen people who find the procedure too complex to grasp, or who have spoiled their ballots and need another... I shiver as a cold wind comes down the street, and I button up my coat. I really hope it doesn't rain today, or this is going to be miserable. This is why we need a town hall. It's all very well having the mayor and council have an office, but if we had a town hall, the town could actually meet. Of course, there are a few people on the council who aren't actually that keen to give the town a say, and I frown. I really hope Edmund gets in. He's a good friend, but that's not the main reason. Cassandra's a great woman - a good mother, great businesswoman, and it has to be said, she's pretty - but she's pretty conservative... And if she gets in, I think Robert Reaves will have a shoe-in, and that is not something I relish.

Bang on 9am Cassandra comes along, looking very neat in a powder blue suit, and cast her own vote. I know that people have been talking a lot about blue being a good colour since that weird dream went round, so I'm sure she didn't wear the colour accidentally. I'm also sure it wasn't an accident that Cassandra was overheard in town saying how she was sure Edmund was a nice man, but he must get lonely without a partner or child, and so no doubt that was why he'd spent so much time at the brothel. She followed that up, so I hear, with the remark that of course she was busy in the evenings looking after her daughter, so she was impressed he had time to socialise. Oh, well. Politics is a dirty business. I just hope it hasn't put too many people off. Now Cassandra's hanging about, talking to people and giving out - oh, good lord, homemade cookies. Isn't that bribery? Unfortunately, we don't have any rules about giving out baked goods. I've told her at any rate she can't stand more than 10ft close to the ballot box in case she's seen to be trying to intimidate voters. So she's standing pretty much exactly 10ft away from me with a basket. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. What a day. And it's only just started. Now a little queue has started forming, and so I start dishing out the ballots. I really hope Concetta will remember to come out and give me a break at lunchtime...

[Open to townsfolk to cast their ballots, meet and talk. You can't expect interaction from Toby, but of course feel free to say hello and take your ballot from him!]
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(no subject)

Mar. 7th, 2009 11:51 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Sunday, early hours of the morning
Day 112

Whisperings in the dark keep me awake. The patterns above my bed are purely imaginary, conjured by tired eyes open too long in the dark. But when I close my eyes, the images burn beneath them. Great shapes like fresh brands pulse dully, and finally I toss the covers off. Too much pent-up energy inside of me. The plants wailed until I agreed not to go to market yesterday--a few of them have been uncomfortable as of late, and just like faithful pets, they refused to let me get into (what they thought was) harm's way. Fine, as long as they didn't keep that racket going.

Can't even read. None of the lights will turn on, not even the ones downstairs--not all of the bulbs could have gone out at the same time! I give up around one thirty and go to get some glow-plants to take with me to the greenhouse to look about, soothing the fussing nocturnal plants who weren't used to seeing me with them for so long.

Around two, suddenly my house floods with light (should have made sure they were OFF, ugh) and I rush to turn them off. Hear a pop--well, one of them is out now. I hope I didn't wake anyone up, 'specially with us so close. The nursery and living space upstairs are dark in two minutes with the exception of a faint light upstairs and down.

Definitely not tired anymore. Well, I doubt the goddess will mind one less person dreaming. Play around until it's time for sunrise, then just before go to sit by the river to watch. With my nightclothes soaked by the dew and my hair floating freely about me, I finally feel at peace.

Oh, election day is tomorrow! Wonder how the process works? Will I need to be up extra early?



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(no subject)

Mar. 7th, 2009 11:51 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Sunday, early hours of the morning
Day 112

Whisperings in the dark keep me awake. The patterns above my bed are purely imaginary, conjured by tired eyes open too long in the dark. But when I close my eyes, the images burn beneath them. Great shapes like fresh brands pulse dully, and finally I toss the covers off. Too much pent-up energy inside of me. The plants wailed until I agreed not to go to market yesterday--a few of them have been uncomfortable as of late, and just like faithful pets, they refused to let me get into (what they thought was) harm's way. Fine, as long as they didn't keep that racket going.

Can't even read. None of the lights will turn on, not even the ones downstairs--not all of the bulbs could have gone out at the same time! I give up around one thirty and go to get some glow-plants to take with me to the greenhouse to look about, soothing the fussing nocturnal plants who weren't used to seeing me with them for so long.

Around two, suddenly my house floods with light (should have made sure they were OFF, ugh) and I rush to turn them off. Hear a pop--well, one of them is out now. I hope I didn't wake anyone up, 'specially with us so close. The nursery and living space upstairs are dark in two minutes with the exception of a faint light upstairs and down.

Definitely not tired anymore. Well, I doubt the goddess will mind one less person dreaming. Play around until it's time for sunrise, then just before go to sit by the river to watch. With my nightclothes soaked by the dew and my hair floating freely about me, I finally feel at peace.

Oh, election day is tomorrow! Wonder how the process works? Will I need to be up extra early?



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She's a Good Girl, Loves Her Mama

Jan. 11th, 2009 04:56 pm
[identity profile] ella-kessler.livejournal.com
Late Evening, Tuesday September 13, Day
The Carnivale Diabolique

It's been a real nice day. Chris an' I got through most'a our work early. 'Manda came by after havin' dinner with her momma an' asked if'n I wanted ta go ta the carnival. We haven't been in weeks an' Daddy didn' have a problem with me goin'.

We've been here for a little while now. Seen some other people we know, but mostly it's quiet. Must be tough bein' here for so long. Seems most'a the shows are the same since we was last here. We're sittin' on a low wood-beam fence when 'Manda suddenly perks up. "I see someone I wanna talk to. Be right back." An' she's gone 'fore I can say anythin' so I just say, "'Kay," to her back as she goes off. Looks like a boy caught her eye.

I stretch my legs out a little an' sigh. Bein' alone at the farm ain't so bad. I'm used ta that. Bein' alone here or when I'm in town, feels different. Like bein' more alone. Don't make sense since there's more people 'round, but maybe that's the reason why.


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She's a Good Girl, Loves Her Mama

Jan. 11th, 2009 04:56 pm
[identity profile] ella-kessler.livejournal.com
Late Evening, Tuesday September 13, Day
The Carnivale Diabolique

It's been a real nice day. Chris an' I got through most'a our work early. 'Manda came by after havin' dinner with her momma an' asked if'n I wanted ta go ta the carnival. We haven't been in weeks an' Daddy didn' have a problem with me goin'.

We've been here for a little while now. Seen some other people we know, but mostly it's quiet. Must be tough bein' here for so long. Seems most'a the shows are the same since we was last here. We're sittin' on a low wood-beam fence when 'Manda suddenly perks up. "I see someone I wanna talk to. Be right back." An' she's gone 'fore I can say anythin' so I just say, "'Kay," to her back as she goes off. Looks like a boy caught her eye.

I stretch my legs out a little an' sigh. Bein' alone at the farm ain't so bad. I'm used ta that. Bein' alone here or when I'm in town, feels different. Like bein' more alone. Don't make sense since there's more people 'round, but maybe that's the reason why.


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the powerful grace that lives in herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities

Jan. 5th, 2009 10:21 am
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Sunday, August 30, Day 91
The Nursery

I'm going to miss the long tranquil evenings of sewing at Mab's. Sitting around the office near the old coffee maker, or on the couch upstairs where I used to sleep, sometimes chatting, but sometimes not needing to. I suppose there isn't anything keeping me from going there at other times, even if this particular project is nearly done, but somehow it won't be the same. There's something oddly pleasant about sharing a secret, too - even though I've wished a hundred times that I could tell Valmont, I've grown to like the feeling of knowing something that only one other person does.

We've been working on this for weeks, each in our own particular way, with growing anticipation and apprehension alike as we've grown ever closer to completion. What if it doesn't work? Well, at least we've tried, and we'll try again until we can get it right. But there's one more thing that we'll need before we can finish.

And so Mab and I have met up around lunchtime, to go to the new flower and garden shop.

"She's going to think we're absolutely insane, isn't she?" I murmur as we go up the path that leads to the shop. "Asking for something like this?"

[Open to Mab and Nohte]
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the powerful grace that lives in herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities

Jan. 5th, 2009 10:21 am
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Sunday, August 30, Day 91
The Nursery

I'm going to miss the long tranquil evenings of sewing at Mab's. Sitting around the office near the old coffee maker, or on the couch upstairs where I used to sleep, sometimes chatting, but sometimes not needing to. I suppose there isn't anything keeping me from going there at other times, even if this particular project is nearly done, but somehow it won't be the same. There's something oddly pleasant about sharing a secret, too - even though I've wished a hundred times that I could tell Valmont, I've grown to like the feeling of knowing something that only one other person does.

We've been working on this for weeks, each in our own particular way, with growing anticipation and apprehension alike as we've grown ever closer to completion. What if it doesn't work? Well, at least we've tried, and we'll try again until we can get it right. But there's one more thing that we'll need before we can finish.

And so Mab and I have met up around lunchtime, to go to the new flower and garden shop.

"She's going to think we're absolutely insane, isn't she?" I murmur as we go up the path that leads to the shop. "Asking for something like this?"

[Open to Mab and Nohte]
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The pattern of light through leaves on your skin

Dec. 11th, 2008 11:42 am
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Day 83, Saturday, of Excolo
Time: mid-afternoon

The sun is playing hide-and-seek today, and I've beginning to realize how much I've come to enjoy it. I've hung out of the crystalline plants near the windows so they reflect the light to the floor--the customers really like them, and I have to keep cutting more to hang up, since the ones that come in usually walk out with one. Not that I mind; business has been slowing down the past few days now that everyone's had a chance to look over the plants I've put out. They're not as novel anymore. I'm fine with that, and won't add many more new plants for now.

Sometimes I miss quietly sitting with the plants and playing with them. Since we're in a respectable area now, I've hidden away the more peculiar species that I own, and I wonder if they're getting lonely. I can't very well leave the shop and head up or downstairs to play with them, since I have to keep shop now.

So I sit there and bend jewelry inspired by what I see, so when I have the time for them, I can go and tell them stories of what's been going on. Clip the silver wire there, and start adding the beads. This one will be the man that walked by with an ill-fitted coat and a small dog yapping at his heels. I could hear Bii goading the dog from downstairs, exciting the little creature and puzzling his master.

Ella will be golds and pink quartz.
Hmm...this one is Chester, white, blue, and green. Does Kate carry down at the store?
This one is Valmont, veined marble.
This one...

The leaves of the plants at the window shudder, tinkling gently with their movement in the slight wind. The pattern of colors on the floor accordingly shift. Does the church down the way have stained glass?


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The pattern of light through leaves on your skin

Dec. 11th, 2008 11:42 am
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Day 83, Saturday, of Excolo
Time: mid-afternoon

The sun is playing hide-and-seek today, and I've beginning to realize how much I've come to enjoy it. I've hung out of the crystalline plants near the windows so they reflect the light to the floor--the customers really like them, and I have to keep cutting more to hang up, since the ones that come in usually walk out with one. Not that I mind; business has been slowing down the past few days now that everyone's had a chance to look over the plants I've put out. They're not as novel anymore. I'm fine with that, and won't add many more new plants for now.

Sometimes I miss quietly sitting with the plants and playing with them. Since we're in a respectable area now, I've hidden away the more peculiar species that I own, and I wonder if they're getting lonely. I can't very well leave the shop and head up or downstairs to play with them, since I have to keep shop now.

So I sit there and bend jewelry inspired by what I see, so when I have the time for them, I can go and tell them stories of what's been going on. Clip the silver wire there, and start adding the beads. This one will be the man that walked by with an ill-fitted coat and a small dog yapping at his heels. I could hear Bii goading the dog from downstairs, exciting the little creature and puzzling his master.

Ella will be golds and pink quartz.
Hmm...this one is Chester, white, blue, and green. Does Kate carry down at the store?
This one is Valmont, veined marble.
This one...

The leaves of the plants at the window shudder, tinkling gently with their movement in the slight wind. The pattern of colors on the floor accordingly shift. Does the church down the way have stained glass?


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(no subject)

Nov. 17th, 2008 05:04 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Time: Early evening
Day: 75, August 14th

It was only with some dissatisfaction that I was forced to close doors early this evening. I put an apologetic note over the normal hours sign and closed the door. I'm not sure who was the guilty party--I'd gone upstairs only for a moment to find lilies for an order when a commotion was heard in the shop. I rush down and found the whole front room a mess of vegetation, dirt, and shattered pottery. No one was in the store, so my thoughts was a punk or a plant--that latter is more likely, as it's not yet even sundown.

So the sign had to go up while I cleaned the mess. Didn't have to sell, but cleaned instead! Oh, it's so hard to draw dirt from the wood once it's fallen into the cracks. It gets done though; shards in one bin, soil in another, and plants moved to temporary homes (oh, I'm sorry! I can't clean and re-plant you all at the same time, and I won't have a mess in here!).

Replacing the table, I look at clock on the wall--well, since I need to restock, I suppose I'll just stay closed for the evening. Remembering what Glass told me a day or two ago, I decide to clean myself up and head to the library. Might as well start now on figuring the plants.

Clean pants and shirt, washed hands and face, and I head out of the store, locking it behind me as I head the few buildings down to the library.


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(no subject)

Nov. 17th, 2008 05:04 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Time: Early evening
Day: 75, August 14th

It was only with some dissatisfaction that I was forced to close doors early this evening. I put an apologetic note over the normal hours sign and closed the door. I'm not sure who was the guilty party--I'd gone upstairs only for a moment to find lilies for an order when a commotion was heard in the shop. I rush down and found the whole front room a mess of vegetation, dirt, and shattered pottery. No one was in the store, so my thoughts was a punk or a plant--that latter is more likely, as it's not yet even sundown.

So the sign had to go up while I cleaned the mess. Didn't have to sell, but cleaned instead! Oh, it's so hard to draw dirt from the wood once it's fallen into the cracks. It gets done though; shards in one bin, soil in another, and plants moved to temporary homes (oh, I'm sorry! I can't clean and re-plant you all at the same time, and I won't have a mess in here!).

Replacing the table, I look at clock on the wall--well, since I need to restock, I suppose I'll just stay closed for the evening. Remembering what Glass told me a day or two ago, I decide to clean myself up and head to the library. Might as well start now on figuring the plants.

Clean pants and shirt, washed hands and face, and I head out of the store, locking it behind me as I head the few buildings down to the library.


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Slowly shifting out of shadows.

Nov. 13th, 2008 08:04 pm
[identity profile] glass-beddau.livejournal.com
[Morning of Thursday, August 13th (day 74)]
[Main Street outside the Nursery]

Woke up early, and the thought of not having to work nor drink valerian nor do anything save mind paperwork was such a relief, like lying out in a graveyard on a warm summer evening with the corpse whispers and the grass all murmuring together in my ears. Swear there are times I'm just so tired of minding and minding and minding things, and I want only to not worry...

Find that I'm restless, once we're both awake, and leave Iago to drop back to sleep while I get dressed and step out. The walk down Silk Road's fallen into the familiar, and morning's well set in the sky, and the town's been quiet of late, but I still mind others on the way. 'm thinking it might be worth it to stop by the Library afterwards, see if Hermia's minded to make a habit of us walking home together for days when I close up the Apothecary's. We're living across the street from each other, it's sensible enough...

Went by the Miskatonic, and came out with two cups of coffee and cleared out of folk's way; the Miskatonic's busy in the early morning, and I stopped in front of the Nursery to drink a little of my coffee. Stepped aside and out of a couple's way, and looked up to see Nohte through the window. Smile a little and lift one of my hands in greeting, much as I can with it holding coffee.

[Open to Nohte]
[Closed]
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Slowly shifting out of shadows.

Nov. 13th, 2008 08:04 pm
[identity profile] glass-beddau.livejournal.com
[Morning of Thursday, August 13th (day 74)]
[Main Street outside the Nursery]

Woke up early, and the thought of not having to work nor drink valerian nor do anything save mind paperwork was such a relief, like lying out in a graveyard on a warm summer evening with the corpse whispers and the grass all murmuring together in my ears. Swear there are times I'm just so tired of minding and minding and minding things, and I want only to not worry...

Find that I'm restless, once we're both awake, and leave Iago to drop back to sleep while I get dressed and step out. The walk down Silk Road's fallen into the familiar, and morning's well set in the sky, and the town's been quiet of late, but I still mind others on the way. 'm thinking it might be worth it to stop by the Library afterwards, see if Hermia's minded to make a habit of us walking home together for days when I close up the Apothecary's. We're living across the street from each other, it's sensible enough...

Went by the Miskatonic, and came out with two cups of coffee and cleared out of folk's way; the Miskatonic's busy in the early morning, and I stopped in front of the Nursery to drink a little of my coffee. Stepped aside and out of a couple's way, and looked up to see Nohte through the window. Smile a little and lift one of my hands in greeting, much as I can with it holding coffee.

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Just a Small Little Town with the Stars in the Willow and the Moon Beaming Down

Oct. 29th, 2008 11:46 pm
[identity profile] ella-kessler.livejournal.com
Morning, Saturday August 8, Day 67
The Market

The day's pretty perfect for the market. Overcast, but not feelin' like rain and cooler than the last coupl'a days. That heat wave that hit us was rough, but the good thing 'bout havin' an orchard's that most of the stuff we grow weathers pretty well. So long's we don't get another of those crazy windy-rainy storms like we got a few weeks back, we should be good into the Autumn.

I got our booth set up early. Lot'a people still wasn't here yet. Manda came to help, too, before goin' to work with Kate at the General Store. She was all bubbly last night, talkin' 'bout gettin' hired an' all. Makes me real proud that she did well 'nough by Kate to get asked to stay on. She's so differen' from her sister in so many ways. The good ways, at that.

I'm sure hopin' we get to see a lot of people out today. Maybe sell enough crop that I can send Chris ta the bakery ta get himself somethin' sweet. I've got my hopes set on a trip ta the salon. Ain't never been to one before an' I think it'd be fun. The sign out front got me ta wonderin' if maybe I could get my ears pierced like Mama had. Or maybe even a tattoo. Never tell Daddy 'bout that, though. He'd probably be hollerin' three years later 'bout that.

"I've gotta run to work, El," Manda says.

"All right, hon. Thanks for your help. I'll see you later today, 'kay?"

"Okay," she says all chipper an' we kiss each others' cheeks. Then she's off, leavin' just me here. Chris don't like comin' to the market. He gets real bored sittin' here for four hours, but I like talkin' ta the people that come 'round, so I don't mind bein' the only one here.

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Just a Small Little Town with the Stars in the Willow and the Moon Beaming Down

Oct. 29th, 2008 11:46 pm
[identity profile] ella-kessler.livejournal.com
Morning, Saturday August 8, Day 67
The Market

The day's pretty perfect for the market. Overcast, but not feelin' like rain and cooler than the last coupl'a days. That heat wave that hit us was rough, but the good thing 'bout havin' an orchard's that most of the stuff we grow weathers pretty well. So long's we don't get another of those crazy windy-rainy storms like we got a few weeks back, we should be good into the Autumn.

I got our booth set up early. Lot'a people still wasn't here yet. Manda came to help, too, before goin' to work with Kate at the General Store. She was all bubbly last night, talkin' 'bout gettin' hired an' all. Makes me real proud that she did well 'nough by Kate to get asked to stay on. She's so differen' from her sister in so many ways. The good ways, at that.

I'm sure hopin' we get to see a lot of people out today. Maybe sell enough crop that I can send Chris ta the bakery ta get himself somethin' sweet. I've got my hopes set on a trip ta the salon. Ain't never been to one before an' I think it'd be fun. The sign out front got me ta wonderin' if maybe I could get my ears pierced like Mama had. Or maybe even a tattoo. Never tell Daddy 'bout that, though. He'd probably be hollerin' three years later 'bout that.

"I've gotta run to work, El," Manda says.

"All right, hon. Thanks for your help. I'll see you later today, 'kay?"

"Okay," she says all chipper an' we kiss each others' cheeks. Then she's off, leavin' just me here. Chris don't like comin' to the market. He gets real bored sittin' here for four hours, but I like talkin' ta the people that come 'round, so I don't mind bein' the only one here.

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Moonflowers and moonbeams

Oct. 27th, 2008 04:41 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Time: 6 p.m., Friday, August 7th

It's wonderful to be able to see the moon without having to walk from under the trees--I can just look outside of my window. But it's a clear night tonight with a slight breeze, so I sit outside of the shop with a bit of silver wire in my hand and some small stones in my lap, letting my hands do as they pleased with the materials.

It's not yet night, but the full moon is already glorious in the sky, and the stars won't be long to follow, I'm sure--hopefully there aren't any customers tonight. Hmm..should definitely look into changing the business times to end at six after all. I'm not sure if there's a regular enough flow of business at night here to justify that tax they charge for after-6 hours. Besides, it would give more more time to relax or work on my wirework.

How much would star-shaped beads cost? I must make sure to visit Kate soon.

Ah, the moonflowers are beginning to open! Their scent gently fills the air around me, and I make a note to open all of the windows tonight. They're gorgeous and subtle, but there are an awful lot of them growing.


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Moonflowers and moonbeams

Oct. 27th, 2008 04:41 pm
[identity profile] notte-halthor.livejournal.com
Time: 6 p.m., Friday, August 7th

It's wonderful to be able to see the moon without having to walk from under the trees--I can just look outside of my window. But it's a clear night tonight with a slight breeze, so I sit outside of the shop with a bit of silver wire in my hand and some small stones in my lap, letting my hands do as they pleased with the materials.

It's not yet night, but the full moon is already glorious in the sky, and the stars won't be long to follow, I'm sure--hopefully there aren't any customers tonight. Hmm..should definitely look into changing the business times to end at six after all. I'm not sure if there's a regular enough flow of business at night here to justify that tax they charge for after-6 hours. Besides, it would give more more time to relax or work on my wirework.

How much would star-shaped beads cost? I must make sure to visit Kate soon.

Ah, the moonflowers are beginning to open! Their scent gently fills the air around me, and I make a note to open all of the windows tonight. They're gorgeous and subtle, but there are an awful lot of them growing.


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  • Current Location: Outside of the flower shop
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