Fondue- TBA (Saturday dinner)

Crock pot- Ham (Sunday)

Sewing:
Organize my projects, keep materials together
Get rid of what I'm not going to use

Labels: Bible verses

Labels: Bible verses

My notes on our new home.

This room leads from one of the front doors. This was actually my least favorite room in the house. I do not like the stone floor, pillar, or fireplace (not shown). I would actually like to cover the floor in low-pile bone-colored carpeting and cover the fireplace with pale wood paneling. I want the column covered in matching paneling or carpet. I would like this room to be an entertainment room. The dining table would be ideal near the window, and closer to the camera perspective would be seating and television.

In the fireplace is a vintage wood-burning stove. I am looking forward to seeing how well it works, because I would like to keep it, if we both like it.

Nathan and I sat in these wicker chairs while we signed our contract.

Donna is opening the doors to the laundry hook-ups. The back door leads to the yard and clothesline, which I intend to try.

This is a view of the side yard. Our property extends to the white fence in back. Beneath the trees is a creek. The creek is also a property line.

This is the back yard. The white siding needs to be power-washed all over and repaired in a few places. You can see the small well next to the back door. It is supposedly still operational, and we could use it to water our gardens. The clothesline is just behind the camera's perspective. The windows are good, new storm windows. The screen doors are vintage.

Here's one of the barns.

It's full of rusted junk. We negotiated with the seller that all junk will be removed before we move in. The house and yard are full of junk right now.

Back of the house.

The tank, fed with run-off from the neighbor's stables. If we want to clean up the water we will have to re-shape the tank and control its drainage better. I have other ideas for beautifying it however. I want to make a water lily garden here, with a wrought-iron bench in the shadows.

View of the property from the rear boundary, just in front of the tank.

This is the old stable. Fascinating junk here, but we have no means to move what we don't want, so I am glad we will be moving into a junk-free home. I can't wait to get a rake and hoe and start mucking it out. I plan to keep the chickens here. We are going to try not to have very many animals at first.

Back view of the house from the stables.

Ceiling extends two stories at the staircase. Normally I love vintage carpet, but like the stone, this just doesn't feel right to me. This is not a "brown" house. This is a white house, a green house, a blue house, a fresh, clothesline-crisp house.

This is where all the magic will happen. :o) This is the kitchen, overlooking the property and stables. Counters and cabinets all around. Gas stove. We will put in a dishwasher. The floor is linoleum. Once again, brown. Not quite right. But that is not a priority now.

I think we both like this room a lot. At least, we have talked about it the most. This adjoins another room just like it. One will be our music room. The other one, opening to the front porch, which I hope to make the "front" room, will be a parlor where we can relax. I am going to try to make it a traditional parlor, very lo-fi. The television and stereo equipment will go in the entertainment room, and the record player will go here. We will refinish the wood floors before we move in.

Front porch. The wood rack will be gone. I hope to find some vintage lawn furniture for the porch.

A dog house and yard to the side of the porch. We don't intend to get a dog, so for now it will be a guest dog house.

I would like to have little potted trees on the porch, and there will be gardens all around the house.

This is the view from the front of the house. The best enclosure is here. If we have a large animal, I would like to put it out here. It is surrounded by heavy steel fencing.

This is Tabernacle. He's the neighbor's dog. He is very friendly and stayed by our sides the whole time on both visits. The second time, he was even more happy to see us. It made me feel like he wanted us to buy the place.

This is the chimney.

A view from the upper windows. The front bedroom looks over the road. One of these rooms will be a computer music room, and the other will be our room.

Labels: home notes

It is so warm and sunny I wish I could sit out here forever. The lab is so cold today, and my samples aren't running well.

I have been dreaming of The Soul of the Rose lately. It has taken such a different turn, and I have no idea how it will end up. Part of me just wants to write it to find out what will happen. How much should I be in control? How much should I engineer? When Christoph stepped into the scene, I did not know who he was. But the moment I, and Delphinia, looked at him, I was struck with recognition. Who could he be but my dear Johnny? I excised him from The Awakening because he just wasn't necessary, but I can see he will be very important to this story.

Delphinia lay on the floor of the old gazebo. She had no tears. Her emotions were a lump in her throat, and her spirits were too subdued to release them and give her peace. Instead she languished and listened to the soft pattern of rain on the sagging roof above her. She heard footsteps on the crisp leaves and turned lazily to the side to peer into the forest gloom that separated her from the burg. Her filmy shawl stretched across her shoulders as she glanced here and there, expecting Oskar's dusky head to appear at any moment beneath the canopy of trees.

Instead a white booted foot fell on the step before her, startling her. The heeled pearl-like shoe was buckled with gold and laced with white satin ribbon. A preternatural disquiet rose in her, chilling her blood, blighting her melancholy for instant fear. The shoe was too fine for Oskar's, too small for Gauvain's.

Delphinia leaned back on her hands, her shawl spilling behind her to the rotted boards. In careful study she watched the figure advancing on her. His hair was a halo of gold massed around a small, slender head. In the midst of his pale features blue eyes stared. His lips were twisted in amusement. His coat, not quite his most fine, was a confection of ivory adorned with new lace, which he must have purchased during his recent stay in France. She wondered dimly if he had sent his mistress packing as he had intended, or if those pretty implications were a matter of courtesy before their relationship advanced the next step.

His eyes fell to her fallen shawl, her damp and stained gown, her bedraggled hair and flushed face. "I thought I would find you this way."

"How did you find me at all?"

"I made it my business to know where you where."

She rose and sat more properly, arranged her shawl and clasped her hands in her lap. "Lord Christoph, why have you come to me?"

"I love you. I want to marry you." He said it with such seriousness that she felt slightly hot in the face, though behind his words was irony, for he was stating what was obvious.

"My father must have told you where I was."

"Of course he did. He does not want you here. I want to take you to my chateau, Lady Delphinia. You will love it. I have spent weeks preparing it for you."

"That's not what--" Delphinia shook off the impulse to speak plainly. "Do you actually love me, Lord Christoph?"

"I have loved you as long as I have known you. And I want to marry you, if you will have me."

He knelt beside her on the rotten stairs, and Delphinia gazed at him through the gloom. She felt Christoph's cool hand move over her own and pull it toward him. In the distance she saw a tall, broad figure moving slowly beyond the castle bounds and caught her breath.

She felt for the first time that she was in control. She did not think of herself as holding Christoph's heart in her hands. She looked at his finely-tailored clothes and pale, curling hair and thought behind those trappings there must be no human being, no soul.

An evening bird gave a sorrowing call from somewhere close by them. Delphinia glanced away nervously, but Christoph's gaze remained fastened on her face. "Will you have me, Lady Delphinia?" he asked, and she started at the low, thrilling note in his voice.

"Yes, my lord Christoph," she said on a cadence of laughter that stuck in her throat. He put his arms around her, held her closely, and she thought, you will not be the one to use me. You may have your celebrity marriage, but you will serve my purposes as well. The dark figure advanced on them ever closer.

"You are as beautiful as a dream. I have so much I have yearned to share with you. Only a week before I was walking throughout my chateau, looking over its empty garden, sorrowing for you. Wanting to hear your footsteps near mine in the corridor, to see the shadow of your form on the wall. The larders are stocked with delicacies to tempt you to decadence. The Lady's chamber is newly refurbished in your preferred color."

She looked at him with astonishment. "It is all pink? Truly?"

"Everything that can be pink, is pink, my darling." He held her close against his cheek, stroking her hair.

Labels: excerpt, The Soul of the Rose

Then, would Winter Light be what I want it to be?

Last afternoon I browsed it pretending to be a random visitor. It is an absolute disaster. Browsing through I can't tell which is my writing and which is book excerpts. I had the confused notion that the author is some kind of plagiarist. And the font I used is a disaster on the quotes and some other punctuation. I am so embarrassed of Winter Light. It was really depressing to me that this site, which is supposed to mean so much, is so dysfunctional and nonworking.

This afternoon I'm going to get on the Internet again and see what I can fix. My writing is more important, but I have actually neglected Winter Light more than my writing lately.

Other things I would do

Edit my photos and put them up finally so I can show our new country home, which I haven't even gotten around to mentioning here.

Delete many of these social networking accounts I have.

I know at least two of my online friends who read Winter Light have Facebook, so if you want to network with me, please do. I am deleting most of my other accounts. I tried to find your profile last night, but I think you are private.

Today my runs are a disaster. I should never have put that product on an Alliance. Oh, it's horrible. I very humbly hope that I may leave on time today for the sake of my poor, poor birthday, which is shrinking in horror at its person's lack of festivity.

Labels: Bible verses, treo photos

Yesterday I got home on time and had a chance to read through most of my second Susan Barrie novel, then go through my toiletries to shift around what was on my shelves. I created a little army of nail polishes on the top shelf which will hopefully help me decide what colors to use. I have so many, and none are quite what I want (who doesn't say that about their stuff?). I also have many perfumes I am making myself use up before I buy the vintage scents I desire. I didn't get to the jewelry. I'll save that one for another day.

I have been embroidering over a dish towel transfer that I painted in T-shirt paints a very long time ago. It is helping me improve my stiches, and after this I will be ready for a serious project. I want to do some pillowcases, little pillows, curtains, aprons, and of course tea towels too.

I feel pretty unhappy that I have written nothing in two weeks. Yesterday I thought it would be better to rest. I think I will try to resume my weekly schedule of writing/craft instead of trying to make up the days I missed.

I hope I can get a caramel apple cider today. I have no food, so I have to get out one way or another on break.

There is a kitchen that will love wallpaper with tiny fruits and vegetables smiling and cavorting, purchased from eBay for a bargain.

There is a garden that will languish under the Texas sun, waiting for its mistress to come home, change, and water it in prairie or homemade egl dresses.

There are chickens waiting to be tucked under arm and carried around while abovementioned mistress drops eggs into her apron pockets.

There is a patio for large jars of sun tea and herbs steeping in castile soap.

There is a counter where bread will be left to rise on Saturdays.

There are windows where prisms and crystals will hang.

There is soil for tuberoses, columbine, delphinium, and hollyhocks.

There is a place for sheep. What will we do with the wool? Make shag carpeting. Duh.