More fun in Merry Olde England

[bloodsong1]

First nights are the worst. There are so many little, different things that disorient and surprise; sounds, smells, the utter darkness of rural living. Bridget woke up several times wondering what was so off. At least the mattress was comfortable.

She dragged herself out of bed with the sunrise, fortunately it was after 7 o'clock. Yawning & fingercombing her hair, she padded downstairs and started the kettle. Peering out her kitchen window, she smiled. The dawn had bathed the countryside in soft pink & peach undertones, enrichging the natural grays and greens. Cotton candy sheep were grazing to the south and those birds who hadn't migrated were singing. This was WONDERFUL!!

Her kettle whistled a happy tune. Sighing with pleasure, she made a pot of tea and started the Grand Breakfast Adventure. This! This was what she longed for. Oh, how many years she had dreamed of this! Breakfast was an egg in a basket (fried egg cooked inside a piece of bread). She supplemented it with a chunk of soft sheep's cheese and several slices of tomato. All together, it was a delicious, if slightly messy, meal, washed down iwth an excellent assam tea.

After breakfast, she washed up and got dressed. Her trusty notebook was in her trusty wool trenchcoat. She sat on her bed and reviewed the lists. "Things for House", mostly completed. "Groceries", missing two items. "Studio" had additions penciled in and "Commission" sported no crossed out lines. Bridget flipped to a fresh page and consolidated "Groceries", "Studio" and "Commission" into "Things to Do Today". It would mean another trip into Oxford if she couldn't find what she needed in Abingdon. Hopefully she'd find the tables and seating she needed for the studio closer to home.

* * *

"Good morning! How can I help you?" Aisling asked as a woman walked into Lee Longlands. She had a determined air about her and was smartly dressed.

"Yes, Aisling?" She said, cocking her head and checking Aisling's brass name tag. She pronounced it "Ashling"

"Very good! Few people get it right the first time." The customer smiled shyly, making her face light up.

"I like Irish names. I'm Bridget."

"Ah. A classicist." Aisling winked and grinned when Bridget returned the gesture. "What can I do to assist you?"

"I need seating for my studio. I have a portrait commission, first sitting is Thursday."

"We can certainly help you with that. Anthing in particular you're thinking of?"

"Conservatory. I love wicker."

"Right this way."

Comments

[chezelliott.livejournal.com]

I think I missed what time of the year this story takes place, but remember that Britain is much farther north than we think. I was there during the summer and it was light out at night until almost 10 p.m., and the dawn was obscenely early.

[bloodsong1.livejournal.com]

It starts in September and I thought London was closer to upstate NY or southern Canada.

Gods, my geography class was over ten years ago.