minoanmiss: Poe Dameron as a bull-leaper (Poe Bull-leaping)
minoanmiss ([personal profile] minoanmiss) wrote in [community profile] agonyaunt2025-07-11 10:43 am
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the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-11 07:41 am

Connexions (26)

Had two missions to undertake

Polly, Dowager Lady Fendersham, could scarcely believe it. It was only days now before she would embark, along with that excellent fellow Cyrus Enderby and that still rather annoying young man the Honble Simon Saxorby, bound for Peru. And after so many years would see dear Christie, that had been doing well in the Consular Service at Lima, and the wife he had lately wedded. It was quite extraordinary.

But before she left, she had two missions to undertake.

She was staying with the Wallaces, the dear hospitable creatures, and most fortunate, Bobbie and Scilla had just lately returned from visiting Firlbrough to sound out the feeling there in advance of the anticipated General Election.

Also staying with the Wallaces, a much unwanted guest, was her stepson, Lord Fendersham, that continued to linger in Town even though Lady Wauderkell had gone on a retreat in a convent.

Polly had almost immediate upon her arrival in Town gone seek out Lady Bexbury, that she fancied would have the most useful intelligence upon this matter, and she was not in the least deluded.

Why, said Lady Bexbury, pouring tea, and drawing Polly’s attention to the cake-stand, I confide she continues to reside there because Lord Fendersham is unlike to venture within a league of a nunnery. And while I daresay the accommodation may be a little austere, and the food somewhat plain, 'twill all be a great improvement over Newgate. Furthermore, I apprehend from my friend that is a sister in the convent that she takes up her pen once more –

Polly groaned.

– takes up her pen to write improving tales for young people of the childhood of various saints, that will be published and sold for the benefit of the convent. So she is not idle – attends the various offices during the day – has had several visits from her cousin from Cork with a view to settling their legal difficulties – passing the time really quite agreeably until the evidence comes from Chicago confirming O’Neill’s previous marriage so the case can go to court.

One hears, she added, that there is an antient suitor in Cork that is now a widower still yearns

Polly snorted. One might suppose she had had quite enough of marriage.

Lady Bexbury raised her eyebrows and remarked that one must only suppose that with some, 'twas like unto a laudanum habit, a craving that they could not resist.

So she was able to go to Andrew, armed with this intelligence, although she intended to present him first with an appeal to duty. For had been approached by various neighbours and local dignitaries discreetly asking when Lord Fendersham was going to return and put matters in order, and with an election forthcoming, surely 'twas prudent that he should be at home.

For indeed, at present Fendersham Hall was a scene of riotous living by Drew Fendersham and his cronies. There was not a great deal of harm in Drew himself, but Polly did not feel so sure about some of the set that gathered about him. There was a deal of drinking, and while at first they had been engaged in the usual country pleasures, as far as the season permitted, latterly there had been a resort to cards as well as billiards, and, she feared, high play.

There her stepson was, sitting reading the Times with an expression of great disapproval, though indeed that was his normal expression. As he grew older he came to look a deal more like her late husband, but he had never had such sour looks. Oh, he had taken pets when he thought some fellow or other was showing Polly undue attention, and in his later years when he became invalid was wont to be fussy and demanding. But he had taken pleasure in life, simple though his pleasures were – give us a jolly tune, Poll! – and while he had not had particularly sensitive feelings, had been within his limits, kind.

Her stepson had been conscientious, and ever done the proper things, before this recent upheaval, but she had never felt that there was kindness.

She sat down opposite him and decided to go straight at the point. Everybody has been asking when you intend to return to Fendersham Hall and take matters in hand, she said. Your presence is considerably missed in local affairs as well as about the business of the estate. Drew is entirely irresponsible and treats the house as an inn, inviting who knows what chance-met boon companions under your roof.

He looked up from the newspaper and blinked at her.

I have been doing what I can, but I am going to Peru to visit Christie, that I have not seen these many years. And there is a deal that only you can attend to. Your father, she added, may have been given to self-indulgence – had not the present Lord Fendersham expatiated upon this theme to his father’s very face? – but did not neglect the duties of his position, even did he undertake 'em with a deal of sighing and groaning.

Fendersham emitted a sound somewhere 'twixt a moan and a whine. Then said that felt obliged to remain in Town lest Lady Wauderkell should need him –

Lady Wauderkell, said Polly, managing not to snap out the words, is very comfortable in the convent – you must not at all imagine a grim cell – bread and water – kneeling on hard stone. I have been assured that the guest quarters are entire what one would desire. She was not conveyed there by sinister monks directed by a conniving Jesuit priest, and is under no kind of duress. She has chosen to stay there now that she, as one understands, returns to the faith that she was brought up in.

Profound groan from her stepson.

Furthermore, there is a cousin from Cork comes to Town, about some matter to do with their business there, and is entire willing and competent to look after her interests – prepares to come to a compromise in the lawsuit &C – offers that is there aught he may do to assist her suit in this case of bigamy he is entire at her disposal –

Further groans.

Really, Andrew, I am astonished the Wallaces have not dosed your tea with laudanum and bundled you on to the next train going north, under care in the guard’s van! 'Tis a shocking abuse of hospitality the way you linger here.

He flushed. Really, he did not look at all healthy. Town life did not suit him. And was he literally pouting?

She left him to seethe and brood.

Her other mission was a good deal more agreeable! And it was a very agreeable jaunt out there in the carriage that the Wallaces had insisted that she took. She had no particular qualms about how Una Wallace did in the Ferraby household – would doubtless have heard was there any matter of illness – but still, she would like to be assured that the girl was doing well, for it must be a considerable change for her.

Indeed, Blackheath, though fine and green and leafy, and sure far more healthful than Town, was very different from a farm in Nova Scotia! And one must wonder how Una, that had been brought up among older people, got on now she was with the boisterous Ferraby girls and going to school.

Here they were, at this very fine house in excellent grounds that the Sir Harry Ferrabys occupied. And quite running out to greet her Lady Louisa, in very merry mood.

O, Lady Fendersham – oh, Polly – such a pleasure to see you! The girls are in the garden, a-romping with the little boys, so very pretty, come see.

So Polly stepped down from the carriage, and Lady Louisa instructed the coachman where to go, and then to go to the kitchen for refreshment.

Peru! she cried. So venturesome of you – Josh has been in some envy of the excursion –

Fie, said Polly, one apprehends that Lima is a fine modern city, I have no intention of making expeditions into forests and jungles, will leave that to Mr Enderby and his young apprentice.

Are there not, murmured Lady Louisa, enormous snakes in those parts that are said to swallow animals whole? and might one ingest Simon Saxorby? A very annoying young man.

O, he is somewhat improved though now will bore one quite like unto Mr Nixon about Peru and its history and its fauna &C.

Lou giggled.

They came out into the garden, where Hester and Maria Ferraby along with Una were playing at catch with their little brothers Hal, that was already breeched, and Gervase, that was still in dresses, though looking at him, Lou sighed that 'twas nigh time to cut those curls and put him into breeches.

Polly sighed too, thinking of the day when she had performed the like for Christie.

Quite letting fall the ball in her to come running up and embrace Polly, Una Wallace. Most delightful! For Una had been wont to be a little reserved and shy, one dared say that being among the Ferrabys had perchance given her easier manners than those she had learnt from Barbara Collins, that, though a very fine woman, had learnt hers in an earlier day, so that they showed somewhat of a stiffness in a child of Una’s years?

Oh, Auntie Polly, how exceeding! Do you come a long visit?

Polly looked down into the dark eyes, noting the healthy rose that had come to her cheeks – the gloss of the dark hair – one need be in no concern at all about the sanitive benefits of her present residence.

Alas, said Polly, stooping to kiss her, I only came for this very afternoon – am about to depart for Peru to visit my son, and his wife, that I have never yet met –

Una’s mouth drooped a little, before she straightened her shoulders and said, they would go look that up in the big atlas – study upon it mayhap –

The Ferraby sister came up to shake hands and make their curtseys and demonstrate that they were not, as their mother sighed, quite wild savages. Hal essayed a bow.

Came out of his workshop Sir Harry, and Una turned to him with a smile, that was warmly returned.

Here, said Sir Harry, is Miss Wallace shows a deal of interest in engineering.

Well! No, one could not have the least worry about Una, in this place. Little Gervase, clutching her hand – It was well.

redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2025-07-10 04:57 pm
Entry tags:

farmers market

I went to the Brookline (Coolidge Corner) farmers market this afternoon. I bought the two things I was specifically looking for--lamb merguez sausages, from Stillman's, and raspberries. When I was buying the sausages, I told the vendor that I'd asked for this kind of sausage a couple of weeks ago, at a different farmers market, and thanked him (them) for making that specific flavor of sausage.

One small box of raspberries, because we've had bad luck this summer with over-buying berries, and not eating all of them before them spoiled. I also bought two small cucumbers, and a baguette, even though it's not good baguette weather, because we like Clear Flour bakery's "ancienne" baguettes.

I stopped at Burdick's and got a cup of dark hot chocolate to take out, because it's unseasonably cool and felt like good weather for sitting outside with a hot drink. I didn't buy anything else there, because the chocolate-covered citrus has suffered from shrinkflation: Burdicks is charging almost twice as much as they did a few years ago, for about half as much candy.

The Dean Road station on green line C station isn't far, but it's enough of a hill to be good exercise: I walk quickly on my way to the T unless I make an effort not to, and then the walk back is uphill all the way.

I realized, after posting this but before dinner, that I overdid things and was out of executive function.
ysobel: (fail)
masquerading as a man with a reason ([personal profile] ysobel) wrote in [community profile] agonyaunt2025-07-10 12:45 pm
Entry tags:

More for the letter than the answer

Dear Eric: I am 40 and physically disabled. I need a powered wheelchair to get around both outside and inside my apartment. Recently, my tires were popped by some broken glass from a bottle thrown out of a passing car onto the sidewalk. It has been a week since I have been able to use my wheelchair, and I have another 20 days before my new tires arrive.

I don’t think it’s unreasonable to be infuriated that someone’s litter caused me to spend $200 on replacement tires.

My caregiver disagrees. He says that it’s my fault for continuing and not turning around. He also said that I am overreacting, when the most I have done is complain a little bit for maybe an hour total and make a joking “whoever threw the bottle on the sidewalk owes me $200” comment once.

Am I being too sensitive about this? I think being upset about having to spend $200 that I don’t have to replace something necessary for my continued function in and outside of my apartment due to litter is understandable, but I would like to ask for your thoughts on the matter to be sure.

— Tire’d


Tire’d: Let me get this straight. Your caregiver, who understands the challenges you face navigating a world that is often not accommodating, thinks that you don’t have the right to be peeved about this? Litter, particularly broken glass, is a problem for everyone and any one of us could and should be upset about having to navigate a sidewalk strewn with jagged pieces, even if it didn’t cost us $200 or a temporary restriction in mobility.

What happened wasn’t fair and it had a greater impact on you than it would on someone who could just step to the side or crunch the glass under a boot. Your caregiver needs to acknowledge that some things in the world affect you differently. This is what empathy is. One doesn’t need firsthand experience to be empathetic, but in this case he has to be able to see how hard this one battle has made your life.

I hope that this is an isolated incident in your relationship and he’s able to be supportive in other ways. Because care is about more than physical assistance. It’s also about being willing to say, “I see you. I hear you. What you’re feeling is valid.”
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Diary of a B+ Grade Polymath ([personal profile] tcpip) wrote2025-07-10 08:29 pm
Entry tags:

China Events, Future Travels

Two nights ago, the Chinese consulate in Melbourne hosted a dinner for committee members of the Australia-China Friendship Society. It was held with no particular agenda in mind, but with less than ten people participating in the wide-ranging conversation, as one could expect, it did include a rather pointed look at a certain powerful but irresponsible world leader. The Consul-General was, of course, very diplomatic in his words and I could be a little more blunt (ironically, through understatements), but that is our respective positions. It was also an opportunity to send our farewells to the Vice Consul General who has served here for four years and welcome their replacement, who I am sure will do very well. On a directly related matter, the following night I attended the spectacular "Folk Reimagined" concert at the Melbourne Recital Centre, which was performed by members of the Guizhou Chinese Orchestra and the Australia Orchestra, which was a rather brilliant performance. I attended with Susie C., an old friend from Perth who has recently moved to Melbourne, and Fiona P., who recently spoke at the ACFS on bi-cultural experiences and history. On a much more modest scale, the Australia-China Friendship Society is holding a social dinner next Tuesday at Song's Dumplings; delicious food, inexpensive, and very good company.

As much as I would dearly love to visit Guizhou as soon as possible with its incredible landscapes (there is a very enticing trip on offer in early 2026), it is increasingly likely that I am going on a more distant (and much more expensive) adventure at the end of the year. Kate R., and I are plotting (following plenty of conversation over three extensive visits to the National Gallery of Victoria over three days) about taking a trip to South America and Antarctica at the end of the year, which would include Lima, Machu Picchu, Buenos Aires (where I can satiate my Jose Luis Borge needs), Tierra del Fuego, the Antarctic peninsula, and Montevideo. All of this is, somewhat, a result of having accumulated long-service leave (which I skipped in my last job to take this current one) and a dearth of international travel in my youth, albeit with a few interstate visits. Speaking of which, a quick trip to the top-end is planned in a month to visit Lara D., check out the apartment I helped purchase, and attend some events of the Darwin Festival.
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the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-10 08:37 am

Connexions (25)

Brought up in Town Society from their earliest years

O, Verena – Verena, Countess of Imbremere, wife of Augustus, Earl of Imbremere that was the heir to the Marquess of Offgrange – had loved the Ukraine and the wide estates of her real father Count Rozovsky. She had not even minded the long winter and the deep snows &C, had quite relished 'em! Sleighrides through the forests &C –

And had not been idle, for while dear Gussie had been following in his father’s footsteps by studying upon the botany of those parts, she had begun learning the local tongue, and talking to the maidservants &C. While doing this, had come across the folktales of those parts, that she put herself to gathering, and also some of the songs. Finding her doing this, her father had sent for ancients from the villages thereabouts, and now she fancied she had quite enough to put together in a pretty volume when they returned to Town.

But much as they had enjoyed their time there and the more than generous hospitality, as it came towards spring, Rozovsky had groaned and declared that he supposed he should be making his way to St Petersburg – where one of his sons was in the Imperial Page Corps –

Gussie had sighed and said, had been thinking himself that they should be on their return to England. Sure his father was by no means old and in the halest of health, but news took a deal of a while to reach 'em where they were.

So they had all come to an entirely amicable agreement that the party should break up, and that Gussie and Verena were ever welcome, and Gussie extended a mutual invitation to come visit Dambert Chase was Rosovsky ever in England.

They decided to travel back southwards, by way of the Mediterranean – let us, Gussie remarked, make this a really extensive honeymoon voyage – have we not been quite exhorted to call at Lady Bexbury’s villa at Naples? – that indeed seemed a very pleasing prospect.

And here they were, so much sunlight, thought Verena, as she sat upon the terrace of the Villa Bexburi, looking over its magnificent vista of the Bay of Naples.

Had not quite anticipated to encounter the company they found there: here was Emma Reveley, that was, had married that most romantic figure, Bernardo di Serrante, half of antient Neapolitan aristocracy and half of Boston Quaker breeding, that one had heard had fought with Garibaldi in ’48, but now turned to the arts of peace and studied with the agrarian reformer, Marcello Traversini. Nardo was, she supposed, some connexion of her own? for was the son of Reynaldo di Serrante that was her elder sister Cara's father. 

La, Signore Traversini was not the vision one conjured up when thinking agrarian reformer! Not in the least like pudgy little Artie Demington, more like unto some classical figure in the paintings one saw when one went call on various local inhabitants to whom one had introductions! A demigod of grapes and olives one might fancy as he walked among his vines and groves.

Along with Nardo, that was very fine-looking himself! Not that she inclined to any fellow but darling Gussie, but one must admit that the men hereabout were very pleasing to the eyes. Even Mr White, that ran the printing-press that produced a journal and pamphlets on agrarian matters, and was English – one might even detect a slight Cockney note in his speech – was quite a handsome chap for his years.

Sure did she dabble in watercolours like Emmy she would find that a great inspiration to her brush! but there was Mrs di Serrante, conscientiously painting away at depictions of scenery, and ruins, and mayhap a quaint olive-tree or so. Well, mayhap in private she prevailed upon her husband to present as a sleeping satyr or such….

Verena, that was lying in a long chair on the terrace, a novel drooping from her hand, looked over to where Emmy di Serrante was leaning upon the wall with her sketchbook and colour-box, intent upon a seascape.

It was really somewhat vexing! Verena had been wont to consider the Reveley sisters as a pair of dowdy provincials that had been quite thrust into Town Society upon the death of the late Lord Raxdell – Verena, like possibly every other young woman in her set, had passed through a girlish passion for that dashing Viscount, so handsome, such a prime sportsman, a most noted whip, and while she had recovered, still felt a pang at his untimely demise. Their mother had been no use at all to 'em –

So unlike dear Mama! Mama that knew not merely all about dress and how to be in the crack o’style, but all the little tricks of manner that gave one a deal of assurance when going into Society. And indeed, my darlings, you will need that, alas, I fear.

(Because of the whispers that Cara – Adeline – Verena Zellen is not Sir Hartley’s daughter. Even if, in all matters of affection, they were.)

So darling Mama had conveyed 'em knowledge of Society and its conventions that had served 'em all well, and Cara and Adeline had married well, and Verena herself had made this quite spectacular and enviable match, to Gussie, that she had liked since childhood and come to love.

But the Reveley girls – so awkward – but then they were took up by Lady Bexbury, one supposed as it were as a bequest from Lord Raxdell – had long been give out that there were feelings 'twixt 'em of great affection – and had he not left her the famed pink diamonds? – though there had also been vulgar speculations concerning his feelings for Lady Ferraby –

That had conveyed 'em somewhat more of polish – and the elder of the two, Miss Harriet, received a most eligible offer from the Honble Brumpage Parry-Lloyd, heir to Lord Abertyldd, not perhaps the most thrilling of suitors but an excellent match.

Still, they might have improved considerable, but Verena had still been wont to consider 'em unsophisticated creatures compared to the Zellen sisters that had been brought up in Town Society from their earliest years. One was kind, of course, there was no need to be spiteful and cattish like that set that used to gather round Lady Trembourne before her disgrace, but in the way one was to visiting relatives or neighbours from Cornwall.

Yet, here was Emmy not in the least awkward – fluent in Italian, including the particular tongue of this region – on the easiest of terms with Signor Traversini and Mr White – and widely received in the very various social circles hereabouts.

Had, Verena discovered, the entrée to the local nobility by way of her husband – and also to the Americans that came here for assorted reasons – of course to English Society – also, one discovered, to a deal of savants through introductions from Signora Umberti, whose late husband had been an esteemed professor before fleeing into exile, and had been by way of a governess to the Reveley sisters.

And took this all with entire easiness and one could only say, aplomb.

Was, it appeared, in quite a constant whirl of routs, balls, excursions to sites of interest, invitations to come view this or that one’s villa or gardens, &C&C. One supposed she had to find some diversion while her husband went about with Signor Traversini or others learning about grapes and making wine with the intention of in due course setting up to do the like on American shores. Or going to meetings of agrarian reform societies.

Both couples were attending this ridotto at some palazzo: indeed, very fine, but such a mob of company, thought Verena, that found her head aching a little at the noise. Feeling a little chagrin at observing Emmy di Serrante quite the sparkling butterfly, flitting from group to group, demonstrating a little discreet flattering flirtatiousness to this or that older fellow. Nardo, Verena observed, was smoking on a terrace with a group of younger chaps – perchance former comrades?

Gussie took her hand and said, had a notion that there was dancing a little further on, and they were about to go there, for they danced together exceedingly well and it was quite of  their greatest pleasures, when came bustling up to 'em some lady she had met in the English set with Emmy – fancied her husband was here for his health? – begging to make known to Lord and Lady Imbremere her American friends.

This was undoubtedly what Mama would consider encroaching presumption, but one could hardly go so far as to deliver a cut, so they conceded to have the Rutledges, from Virginia, introduced to 'em, that made exceeding effusive –

Had not Emmy said somewhat about 'em, and that for citizens of a democratic nation they were greatly dazzled by tinsel show?

One gleaned that impression!

Upon finding that Gussie was an earl and a botanist, Mr Rutledge launched into the tale of his father’s friend, that had also been a botanist, and had gone plant-hunting in the Virginia forests with an English earl some considerable while ago. And alas, the fellow was attacked and killed by a bear, did not know the ways of things with the wild animals in those parts –

Gussie said drily that that must have been his grandfather – his mother’s father – that died before he was born.

This put a considerable chill on the conversation.

The following morning Verena found herself feeling considerable qualmish – somewhat she had consumed perchance – and said she would lie in a little when Gussie rose. A little later, feeling no better, she got up to seek her smelling-salts. Her maid had not seen them, very tiresome.

She would go ask Emmy did she have such thing as a smelling-bottle about her.

There was Emmy, sitting out on the terrace, carefully shaded from the sun, writing at a lap-desk. Shielding her own eyes from the glare of light, Verena went over to make her request.

Why, certainly, cried Emmy, I will go fetch it immediate, as she closed the lid of the lap-desk, not before Verena had observed that she had been writing in what looked like cypher – had come across Gillie Beaufoyle about the like. Gillie, challenged about this, had shrugged and revealed that he had been desired to make use of his sojourn in the Ukraine by his superiors –

But Emmy, about secret communications?

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flamingsword ([personal profile] flamingsword) wrote2025-07-09 08:55 pm

Wants and needs

I want hugs. I want [personal profile] nyyki hugs and [personal profile] genderjumper hugs and fuck it if I don’t want Ghost hugs, too.

I want to not have to go back to school, and not to be still studying for a final exam for A&P.

I want to dress up fancy to go to brunch with my cousin, Doctor JT, and her kids.



I need to not abandon my studies even if I am feeling a bit frazzled. Even thougm
ysobel: A man wielding a kitchen knife and making an adorable yelling face (rage)
masquerading as a man with a reason ([personal profile] ysobel) wrote in [community profile] agonyaunt2025-07-09 05:07 pm
Entry tags:

(no subject)

Dear Miss Manners: I prepared some hand-dipped chocolate goodies and delivered them to a couple of ladies in my neighborhood. A few days later, one of the ladies called me to tell me she was diabetic and couldn’t eat them.

I was sad that “the thought that counts” must not come into play anymore. I felt her phone call was rude and unnecessary.

Am I being petty, or was she being rude? It will make me think twice next time I try to be thoughtful. This friend certainly won’t see goodies from me again.


Then you will not want to hear that this lady spent the intervening time fuming over the thoughtlessness displayed in putting her health at risk — as if, instead of trying to brighten her day, you had attempted to force-feed her.

Miss Manners recommends saying, “I’m sorry to hear that. Thanks for letting me know” — and then tossing the conversation in the memory dustbin and, as was your plan, not repeating the gesture. This is also an approximation of what Miss Manners would have counseled the lady with diabetes, had she been asked.
cupcake_goth: (LilyDrawing)
cupcake_goth ([personal profile] cupcake_goth) wrote2025-07-09 03:06 pm

Buy yourself the motivation

Remember how I said the Wegovy has cut down on the impulse shopping noise in my brain? It still has, but when a bunch of things on my "to buy someday Real Soon Now" all have sales over the 4th of July weekend? Yeah, I spent a lot of money. But this means that a dress, jacket, pendant, and art book were less than they had been, so yay?

... and this will certainly keep me from buying ALL THE MERCH at the MCR concert. Yes, it will. 

:: shifty eyes ::
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Redbird ([personal profile] redbird) wrote2025-07-09 01:27 pm

new horizons in stupid error messages

I talked to someone at Amalgamated Bank this morning, who told me what I would need to do to take my mother's name off a joint account, then suggested that I set up online banking and then transfer the money to my account at another bank. Setting up online banking on their website was straightforward, and then it popped up a verification step involving sending a text to a cell phone associated with the account. Entirely reasonable, but my phone number isn't on the account.

I called back, and talked to another helpful person. She told me how to add the number: send her an email with "attn: Cheryl" as the subject line, giving them my current phone number and attaching a copy of my ID. I did that, and got an "undeliverable" message from Postmaster@[bank], saying I wasn't authorized to relay messages through the server. So I called back, again, and spoke to someone who told me that oh, yes, it does that, but it does deliver the messages. I got her to check, and they had received my email, but Why?

This still feels like significantly less hassle than sending them a copy of my ID, and an original death certificate. That has to be done by paper mail, not email, because they want an "original" death certificate, which she promised they'd return. (At the moment, those originals are in either New Orleans or London, I'm in Boston, and my brother is on vacation in Ireland.)
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the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-09 08:40 am

Connexions (24)

An admirable capacity to grasp a situation

Rosamund, Dowager Countess of Trembourne, was finding life in Delft curiously agreeable. Had quite seen the necessity of going into exile, somewhere where she would be most unlike to meet any of her social circles either from England or the Continent, before her condition became too apparent to conceal, but had supposed that 'twould be quite immensely tedious.

For she had been used to the diversions of the spaws and the cities she and her late lord had been in the habit of frequenting, quite aside from the excitements of her secret endeavours for the interests of the nation. And dear Gillie….

Even when they had returned to England, while there were still those shunned 'em after the scandal over slandering Clorinda Bexbury and Lord Trembourne had been obliged to publish a public apology in the newspapers, they were still received in enough circles to have a bustling social life, as well as a deal of family matters in train with all this marrying and begetting.

So she had anticipated that it would be exceedingly dull to rest and wait upon lying-in, and then to be brought to bed, and fancied that at her time of life might take rather longer than had been wont in earlier years to recover from her travails once that was done. Entirely ennuyant.

But she had not imagined how much she would feel freed of a burden: like to float up like unto a balloon. Sure she and her late husband had not lived in one another’s pockets, had not shared a conjugal bed since before Lewis’s birth: but he had ever been there, moping about complaining of draughts or stuffiness and sitting down to table to discourse of the unwholesomeness of whatever fare had been set before 'em, and getting into a fret about some symptom he supposed he had. Boring everybody about his spaws and his quacks &C.

At least he did not recount aught about the ladies that provided for his particular pleasures – one felt a little sorry for the creatures, though supposed they were well-remunerated for their trouble.

Here she was, under the care of Mevrouw Peeters, that was kind, and competent, and not in the least encroaching, a very good sort of woman, one perceived that midwives were considerably esteemed in these parts. And the house so very clean and well-kept.

She might beguile the time by improving her understanding of Dutch, one never knew when that might come to be of use, whilst also polishing her abilities in cyphers and lock-picking. And dear good Grissie, sure she did not deserve that her daughter had turned out so well, had put into her trunks materials for embroidery and some several novels.

She entirely did not deserve that Clorinda Bexbury, that must have a deal of business upon hand, sent her the English newspapers accompanied by letters that contained gossip about the inwardness of various matters reported. La, Talshaw dead of some accident! though Saythingport had very properly ceased pursuing that suit to Nora as most improper while the family was in mourning.

But she had not imagined how much time she would pass in simply doating upon tiny Penelope. Had found it not only possible, but strangely pleasant, to feed her herself, although Mevrouw Peeters was quite able to find a wetnurse was one required. Look into those miniature features and endeavour to discern some resemblance to Gillie. Wonder whether the blue eyes of babyhood would darken to that warm brown…. Gaze upon the little hands and feet as if she had never seen a baby before.

Indeed, she had give little enough attention to her others. Had seemed to her an entire ordeal from the begetting to the birth – the months of the discomforts of increase – the time out of the pleasures of Society – And then once born, the infants handed over to wetnurses and nurserymaids.

How different things were, now.

Mevrouw Peeters strongly commended the practice of going promenade somewhat, now that Rosamund was growing stronger – though forbade her yet from carrying the babe herself, so she was followed by Geertje with the child well-bundled-up as she walked along beside the canals, or ventured as far as the Markt square with its bustle and fine buildings.

As they were about to re-enter, came out Mevrouw, saying that there was a gentleman come call for Her Ladyship, that she had put in the best parlour.

A gentleman? Rosamund put out a hand to steady herself against the door. She could only suppose it to be Undersedge, come with some news that should be delivered in person – she could not suppose that the matter of Talshaw was of any great urgency but oh dear, mayhap somewhat had come to Hermione?

She gulped, straightened her back, desired Geertje to take Penelope to her nursery and went towards the best parlour, that was very seldom used.

As she opened the door, she saw that that was too tall to be Greg Undersedge – took a second or so to realize, yes, that was Gillie, Gillie that had somehow found out her refuge. She shut the door behind her and leant against it, her legs trembling.

Why Delft, asked Gillie, though I quite apprehend that it is entirely out of any society that you are to know, a retreat quite like unto a convent perchance.

You are unacquainted with Mevrouw’s profession?

Gillie frowned. Profession?

Rosamund took a breath, stood up straight, leant over to take his hand. Come, she said, opening the door, and leading him upstairs to the nursery, where Penelope was already sleeping peacefully in her crib.

Mevrouw is a very skilled midwife.

Gillie looked down into the cradle, and then up to Rosamund. Ours?

Sir Vernon had initially commended Lord Gilbert to her as a young man that had an admirable capacity to grasp a situation with exemplary rapidity. She nodded. Her name is Penelope.

He picked her up quite surprizing confident for a young bachelor, then Rosamund collected that he had several nephews and nieces, so perchance had some practice in the art. She watched him thoughtfully scrutinizing her.

A pretty babe, he remarked at length. What are you intending to do with her?

She caught his uneasy tone.

Fie, I am not going to leave her outside some foundling institution! She took Penelope, that was still peaceably slumbering, in her own arms. No, 'tis my intention to take her to Yeomans –

Yeomans!

My dear, you must have had the thoughts I have had that perchance the orphans are not quite as bereft of parents as 'tis give out? Even did those parents mayhap not go to church with one another.

Indeed I have supposed 'em mostly by-blows rather than true orphans! Doubtless of friends of Miss Ferraby that found subscribing to her views cost 'em rather too dearly.

Well, 'twould be unmannerly to interrogate upon the matter, but Clorinda Bexbury assured me that Miss Ferraby and Miss Roberts would be entirely agreeable to taking Penelope –

Gillie grinned and said, and she would be in the hands of that peerless mistress of nurseries, Betty Higgins! One could not have the least objection. Those very healthful surroundings – Essie entirely commends the characters of the existing family – for of course visits quite often, still doats on the fiery Flora, to the great distress of all aspirants to his hand – there is an excellent governess – indeed, a prime solution to any difficulty. For Sir Vernon, I must reveal, is most anxious to call you back into the game – has been worrying at me and any other who might know to discover where you are.

She kissed Penelope and placed her back in the crib. The dear thing. But one saw that it would not do to keep her with her, no, she must put her in that very excellent situation among good kind people.

She took Gillie’s hand. I am gratified to hear that Sir V thinks so well of my services! I daresay for the next several months I must be about lingering at spaws, repairing my nerves from the shock of my husband’s death. But I daresay there may be work to be at there.

Indeed, she thought, she was still somewhat knocked up from bearing Penelope, at her age 'twas no light business, recruiting was only sensible.

But let us go and take coffee so that you may tell me what you have been about.

So they went to sit in the parlour, and Gillie recounted his adventures on Rozovsky’s estate, and how the Imbremeres did, and then how things had gone in St Petersburg, and then throughout the Baltic –

Very cold, he remarked. But now, after this short holiday at home in the bosom of my family, I am bound for Paris.

Paris, sighed Rosamund. Alas, that is not a destination for a grieving widow I fear – mayhap when I am out of black – but I might try one or other of the French spaws – Vichy? one hears well of it. Or Spa would not be any very great distance, would it?

Gillie sighed. I fear Sir V may have opinions in the matter and desire you to go to Carlsbad

Rosamund groaned.

– or Baden-Baden, now that would not be an entire impossibility

They sighed. Duty to the nation’s interests, it had to be considered, and here she had been, resting up very comfortable these several months.

A silence fell.

I suppose, Gillie began, stammered, began again, I have been in some thought – now that you are free – that now there is no obstacle

O, Gillie! He had never looked so young.

Rosamund took a deep breath. My dear, she said, do not go further towards where I think you tend. 'Twould be entirely unanswerable –

And one day, she surmized, there would be a younger woman that would ensnare his heart, she could not imagine that this could endure – however much it had become more than a flirtation or a brief indulgence – however little could she deny that 'twas love

No, she would not tie him in formal bonds. And while they might keep the matter clandestine, was it ever revealed, she shrank from the spiteful gossip there would be. Had circulated too much of the like herself.

Now, she said, I fear you should depart. I may tell Mevrouw that you have been bringing me news and messages from family and friends, but I do not think it wise to make it look any more than that you were passing through and did that civil task.

Slowly he nodded. Wisest, he conceded. Lifted her hand to his lips. Until Vichy, then.


cupcake_goth: (Leeches)
cupcake_goth ([personal profile] cupcake_goth) wrote2025-07-08 02:25 pm

Betrayed by deliciousness

On Sunday night I ordered pork spring rolls from my favorite place with the idea of having one for dinner, and one for lunch the following day. As I was taking the second bite of my dinner, the Stroppy One turned to me and said that it had way more garlic than usual. He was right, because as he was saying that, I noticed my mouth and lips were burning and felt like welts were rising. I got a refund from DoorDash, and gave the Madwoman in the Attic the second spring roll. Sooooo apparently I'm even more sensitive to garlic than I thought, and I'm really mad about it.

---

My Chemical Romance alert! There's a post on Tumblr that's about the runup to the show with details being constantly added. Apparently setup for the concert has already started, which is unusual. I wonder if that's why there's more time between concert dates; I'd assumed it was because the band finally learned they need to rest between shows, but maybe not. The band has been hinting on social media that these concerts are "so much more than just playing The Black Parade". Needless to say, the fandom has collectively been losing our minds. 

(THE CONCERT IS THIS FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY!!!)

Yes, looking forward to this concert is one of the few things helping me cling to sanity right now.


matsushima: you'll simply need to keep evolving (let me see)
Meep Matsushima ([personal profile] matsushima) wrote in [community profile] agonyaunt2025-07-08 05:14 pm

how do I step back from a friendship with an intensely negative and argumentative coworker?

I’ve been working at a university library for a little over a year now and have had a hard time making friends. Shortly after I started, I befriended a coworker, “Morgan,” who is also relatively new, and it has been nice getting to know them and commiserating about how hard it is to make friends in a new city and workplace.

Over the course of our friendship, Morgan has opened up more and more about the interpersonal problems they’ve had with our colleagues. They describe scenarios where collaborative projects get stalled because other stakeholders stop communicating with them, coworkers they were getting lunch with on a weekly basis suddenly stop responding to chats, and other frustrations with navigating bureaucracy that interferes with their work. It’s hard to tell if Morgan is becoming increasingly disgruntled or if they are now very comfortable with telling me their unfiltered feelings.

I’ve also had to navigate some fairly horrendous problems as a new employee, so it’s been nice to have a coworker who understands and sympathizes with our (somewhat) dysfunctional workplace culture. Morgan has made it very clear to me that they are only here for the time being and have already decided that this is not the city they would like to stay in long-term. Personally, I want to retire here and have worked very hard to improve my situation. It feels very different for me today than it did a year ago, which is why it’s become increasingly difficult to navigate Morgan’s constant negativity.

Morgan can be a lot of fun to talk to, but they’re in an increasingly bad mental space at work. They frequently come to my office to gripe for an hour or two in spite of how busy I am; I’m always actively working and trying to concentrate when they pop into my office. To my fault, they ask if it’s a good time to chat and I always say yes because they’ve been so hurt by our coworkers pulling away and I’m afraid of upsetting them. On top of this, they’ve become increasingly argumentative with me when they’re looking to talk. Again, I would say this is my fault because they are looking to vent and I’m always trying to provide solutions, so I think it’s taken as invalidating Morgan’s feelings.

Morgan is in such a bad mental space at work that seemingly any type of feedback or dialogue that they disagree with comes off as an attack. One of the issues they’ve had with multiple colleagues is that they invalidate Morgan’s feelings. Morgan has described situations where they complained about something to a colleague and rather than agreeing with and consoling Morgan, they essentially said to look on the bright side. For example, Morgan was upset about a change made to their office and the coworker responded with, “At least you have your own office.” Morgan has many examples of conversations like this and cites it as a workplace culture issue. In addition, Morgan holds on to comments like this (that took place months and months ago) and often refers back to them as examples of how bad things are. At this point, I am very afraid of upsetting Morgan because I like them, and their hyper-sensitivity is a bit triggering in light of all the reparative work I’ve done for my position and unit.

One more detail about Morgan that I think plays a factor is their odor. Morgan has a strong mildewy smell wherever they go. The odor fills a room and I can often tell if they’ve recently been in a space because of the smell. I believe Morgan maintains good hygiene practices, but that they are unaware of the fact that a lot of their clothing has developed a pungent mildew odor. Depending on how strongly they smell, it can be very difficult to spend extended periods of time with them. I’ve avoided spending time with them outside of work, like inviting them to my home, because the smell is so off-putting and am wondering if it has contributed to their interactions with coworkers.

How do I take a step back with Morgan without further inciting them?


Alison's answer )

- how do I step back from a friendship with an intensely negative and argumentative coworker?
bleodswean: (Default)
bleodswean ([personal profile] bleodswean) wrote2025-07-08 07:32 am

LJ Idol - Wheel of Chaos - Wk 3 - Ecco

 
That shattering glass, not a windshield but a doorway of shock and awe, into another place. As though she had left a place for the sole reason of arriving at another place. No wandering in between. She had never been good at telling a story, not like Daddy could be around a fire, but if she had survived then perhaps, she would have been able to say out loud those moments in a way that would capture the sheer impossibility of a human body in flight. Not falling but flying, the propulsion of her skeleton, all bone projectile, into the headlight lit darkness. The impact of her head with the windscreen was the killing blow, of course it was, yet she traveled onward still alive, through the glass, over the crumpled hood and into the forever night. Leaving both sneakers behind as she went. Did she see the stars in their firmament? In this strange leave-taking she lingered on a while, the air above and surround her insubstantial, the pavement solid beneath her, the summer scorched heat of it a small comfort to her cooling body, the bloody halo of her long blonde hair creating a vision of such suffering, such loss, hers a miraculous martyred death. Our Teenaged Lady of the Automobile Collision. The shattered shoulder bones, the leaking skull. The impossible sense of soaring passing through her nerve endings, dissipating through her pores. Simultaneous departure and arrival and departure. The touch and go of her short life. 
 
The afternoon of the day had grown hot. Morning spent working in Daddy’s garden. It was time for the leafy branches to be snipped off close to the stem to allow the lengthening buds all the sunlight. He didn’t pay her out, they had nothing extra for allowances, but after the harvest late in the fall, just before winter, he could be generous with the crumpled bills that began to stuff his pockets. She’d walk her brothers to the store, cold winds blowing through them, and buy the boys candy bars and herself a fashion magazine.
 
Daddy had two other daughters before she was born. One lived up in Alaska with her own momma and the other one of them lived in an old camp trailer on Daddy’s property with her baby. She was her momma’s oldest, after her came four more, all boys and of course Daddy was partial to them on account that they were boys, but he was good to all his children and just the day before this day Momma said she was expecting another one come springtime. She whisper prayed that it would be a girl, a sister, another sister.
 
Now the day was bending open the bars that held her prisoner, soon she would be freed. It was just gone noon. She had made sandwiches for her brothers, cleaned the kitchen and Momma told her she was allowed to walk down the road to the swimming hole. She longed to go on her own and Momma said that was fine, too, but only on account that two of her brothers seemed to be suffering from the heat and Momma wanted to keep a closer eye on them. It was hot and had been hot for going on a week. They’d taken to sleeping out of doors on the wood slatted porch, but the night before a bear had woken them up pawing through garbage and the compost and Daddy said they had to be back inside the house until he either could get a decent shot off or someone else on the hill got him first. Dressed bear in the chest freezer would be a treat. 
 
She was fourteen years old that summer day. Highschool in the fall and she couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Tried and failed. Thought she might be more than what she was, if such a thing was possible and even then, couldn’t tell you accurately what that more looked like. Knew that somewhere out there more was waiting to be had, one just needed to get to where it was at. Arrive with eyes wide opened and announce themselves with attention.
 
Cut off shorts and a bikini top, knock off Converse low tops, and her waist-length hair swinging over her shoulders, near white it was so light colored, and she swung it back and forth with a practiced toss of her head. Girl we known it was you from way down the road, he said to her when he pulled over. Driving his uncle’s truck leaning out the window at her diesel exhaust smelling so dangerously sweet and another boy she didn’t know jumped out and opened the passenger side door for her like they’d been expecting her and no one but her, and she climbed up into the cab and knew her daddy wouldn’t be at all happy because he said Levi’s family was one to steer clear of whenever mannerly possible. But Levi had his hair shorn short dagger sideburns delineating his jaw line and a swagger in his long-legged stride. On the bus, he sat way at the back while she had to sit in the front with her younger brothers, sometimes holding Caden’s hand to keep him from crying, which he was prone to doing because the only thing he wanted in the wide world was to be home in the kitchen with Momma. The high schoolers got off the bus first stop and when it came springtime, Levi started tapping her on the shoulder as he walked past and then that last week of school he sat himself down right behind her on the way home every day and caught the ends of her hair in his loose-fisted palms. Sometimes his fingers, dirty and sticky with cannabis oil would tap tap the knobs of her spine. You’re real skinny, he would tell her in a voice so quiet and low it could only be meant as a secret of some kind. And the nerves would explode across her shoulders and at night in her bed she would think about the heat of his fingers and roll over onto her stomach believing that wings could be coaxed out of the two thin blades in her back. Those shoulder bones were a storehouse inside her body for all that tingling sensation caused by his fingers on her flesh. 
 
Now she was sitting on the bench seat right up next to him. Don’t be shy girl he laughed. Bet you ain’t brave enough to jump off that high rock. The other boy had his window rolled down open too and he craned his body out of it and whooped loud. Levi gunned the big truck and black exhaust rolled out of the dual pipes and he fishtailed a bit and she gasped but the boys laughed. And soon she was laughing too. 
 
They raced one another down to the swimming hole but the boys veered up the narrow path to the high rock. She kept on down to the rocky beach, looking up. Can you see me from there? He called down to her and she nodded. What? He yelled. I can, I can see you! She visored both hands over her eyes and watched him watching her as he leaped off the rock.
 
There was no way not to be alive that afternoon.
 
She felt no pain outside the hurt of leaving. She couldn’t close her eyes as though to sleep; her soul was exiting through her vision itself. What’s the time, she asked. Her world spinning now, the dizziness of the calling fade. No more thought everything a retinal remembering. 

That day in the rain when I was almost turned sixteen telling him I had missed that month and he began to speed down and down the winding dirt roads? Or later while we raised up three young’uns and he had a bad spell with liquor and somehow it all came to a screaming head that afternoon in the truck? Or was it only the two of us again, that morning of such sadness, driving in the snow back from the hospital? Or before all that, the first sweltered day of summer when he drove us down to the swimming hole, before ditching his friend because he said he had something he wanted to show me, just him and me, and I knew without knowing how that this was my arriving. 
 
conuly: (Default)
conuly ([personal profile] conuly) wrote in [community profile] agonyaunt2025-07-08 06:01 am

(no subject)

Dear Good Job,

I work as a speech therapist. At a family gathering, I noticed my cousin’s near 4-year-old could only say a few words and beg and point for items they wanted. They could only say “juice” or “Pad” and would cry if any other relative tried to engage them in conversation. I asked my aunt if this was normal behavior for the child, and she said yes but that she wasn’t concerned. At nearly 4, a child should be using full sentences of at least three or more words. It is a missed milestone and early intervention is key.

I checked the local school district, and they offer free screenings and testing that my cousin’s child would qualify for. I went to my aunt and suggested that, in my professional opinion, her grandchild might benefit from speech therapy or at least testing to make sure it wasn’t some other underlying problem. It was completely free and I sent her the info. I didn’t go directly to my cousin because I know some parents can be thin-skinned and defensive when it comes to advice from licensed professionals. I had parents rage at teachers for suggesting their kids need glasses because they can’t see the board.

Well, for my troubles, my cousin sent me an awful and barely coherent text telling me I was a busybody; because I don’t have kids, my opinion is worthless; and she is a mother, so she knows all, and especially what is best for her child, who is perfect. I left it alone after that. The problem is that two years later, the child started kindergarten and was diagnosed with a severe speech impediment, and the rationed therapy the school gives hasn’t really helped. My cousin had to enroll her child with a private therapist that her insurance doesn’t cover and it is pretty pricey. I know all this through the grapevine.

Then, at a family event, my aunt and cousin went off on my poor mother about how awful and selfish I am for not volunteering and helping in their hour of need. I never told anyone about the text since I didn’t want drama, but I kept it. Frankly, I am furious. I tried to help, and I thought I was respectful enough by just going to my aunt with the free resources that were available to my cousin. I didn’t press, preach, or accuse. But now, at this late date, they think publicly blaming me and dragging my poor mother into it will work? I am ready to go to war and I have the receipts, should I?

—Not Holding My Tongue


Read more... )
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
the_comfortable_courtesan ([personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan) wrote2025-07-08 08:38 am

Connexions (23)

Very fine news

There had come about a habit in the Rondegate household that one morning in a week Lady Abertyldd would come visit with Lotty and Gianna, to see how Zipsie got on, exchange family news, play a little music and sing perchance, 'twas exceeding agreeable. How different a mother from Cecil’s own was Lady Abertyldd! And on hearing that he had no sisters of his own, to their great shock and distress, Lotty and Gianna had quite offered that as he was now entirely part of the family, they would be his sisters.

Zipsie had given a little amuzed snort upon hearing that – o, a brother, that may take them about on jaunts, and no doubt make 'em little gifts of sweetmeats &C, and mayhap they will work you a pocket-handkerchief or so in recompense. She smiled. But they are good girls, did they not keep that brat Millie in order?

But as this week’s call impended, Zipsie looked across the breakfast table with a little frown, saying, that she would desire an opportunity to convoke privately with Mama, might he offer to take the girls on some excursion? They are lately in a great desire to go to the East India Museum, a girl at their dancing class told 'em of the automaton of a tiger devouring a Company officer to the sound of horrid growls and anguished cries and they are quite wild to see it.

I am quite wild to see that myself! I will be about finding out the terms of admission, and take 'em off on that treat.

That is exceeding kind. And bring 'em back here for tea, so that they do not feel I neglect 'em – Mama will have left by then, and I have Mrs Lucas coming to discourse of ghazuls, but we may send 'em home in the carriage.

He wondered what it was that she desired to be closeted with her mother about: might it be mysteries of womanhood? or might there be some matter of Ollie having an escapade? For his recent letters had contained several mentions of a young actress that had turned out to be one they had known in childhood – Zipsie had wrinkled her nose a little and remarked that sure she recalled the Richardsons, they had been quite the cynosure in charades, even better than the Merretts!

And added that mayhap 'twould be a good thing to distract Ollie from yearning over Thea.

So Lotty and Gianna had quite jumped up and down and clapped their hands at the intelligence that he had arranged this visit to the East India Museum, and a most enjoyable time of it was had.

When they finally re-entered the house, he could hear that there was still activity in the music-room. He told the footman to order tea served in the Mozart salon, and told his sisters-in-law to run along there, while he went to see what was ado with his missus.

In the music-room he found Zipsie at the piano, with Mrs Lucas – a fine figure of a woman, and very graceful for all her stoutness – leaning over her – and a man standing at her other shoulder.

Good Lord, that was Davison! Had lately been elected to the club – friend of Sallington – Oxford don – ah yes, great scholar of Persian, that was it –

Zipsie looked up. Can it be tea-time already? We have been quite lost in Persia I am afraid to say – reft by djinni – well, beginning to find a way to come at setting these ghazuls – la, I am failing in my social duties –

Cecil smiled and said that he and Mr Davison were already acquainted by way of Lord Sallington. Had foolishly not occurred to him that Mr Davison’s studies might be of interest to Zipsie.

Davison said that had only quite lately turned his attention to Persian music, but this was a very fascinating problem of as 'twere translation.

But, said Zipsie, I fancy we have laboured long enough the day – and should go have tea afore my little sisters devour everything – She stood up, and started tidying music and books and papers together.

Mrs Lucas said she could not bide long – was staying at Pockinford House and her sister got into the greatest fret was one a little late –

Zipsie raised her eyebrows a little and said, had heard somewhat of that from Thea. But they might send her in the carriage with her sisters – would not be greatly out of the way to go by Pockinford House –

Cecil nodded and said, entirely answerable.

When they came to the Mozart salon they found Lotty and Gianna drinking raspberry shrub, and having already done a deal of damage to the neat arrangements on the cakestands. Zipsie grinned and went to ring for replenishments as she exhorted her sisters to stand up and show civil – introduced 'em in proper form to Davison – that looked less daunted than Cecil had feared, mayhap he had young sisters of his own?

It was less awkward of a tea-party than he had anticipated – of course, one fancied that Mrs Lucas, in her capacity as a rector’s wife, had a deal of experience along those lines! – and any attempt by Lotty and Gianna to represent the action of the automaton was firmly quashed.

After the girls and Mrs Lucas had been dispatched, Zipsie remaining in the salon to keep Davison company, Cecil returned to find Zipsie proposing that Mr Davison might stay to dine – since they were dining quietly at home the e’en –

One could see no harm. The chap was entirely acceptable, and one need not worry that he was one of those bachelors that insinuates himself in order to get up flirtation or worse with married women. Had that tiresome journey back to Oxford to look forward to.

It transpired that in fact Davison was not returning to Oxford, but was staying at Mulcaster House – Her Grace had lately acquired a most fascinating manuscript that desired to convoke with him concerning – but it so happened that all the family had engagements the e’en and he found himself a little at loose ends –

So, really, he was entirely the thing and a person one would very much wish to know – indeed, very much a friend of Sallington’s rather than a mere club acquaintance – had been to Nitherholme to advize Julius Roberts concerning a Persian garden

He and Zipsie glanced affectionately at one another over the table and revealed that their match had been made at Nitherholme – had seen less than he might have desired of Roberts – had had some notion of inviting him to Wepperell Larches –

Was soon revealed a deal of mutual acquaintance.

After the dessert, Zipsie rose with a little moue saying she would do the proper thing and leave the gentlemen to port and tobacco. He had noticed, during the several courses, that she had not been eating as heartily as her usual wont, and wondered was she a little out of health.

A slight uneasy silence fell.

Do you care for cigarillos? Cecil enquired, going to the sideboard. Sallington has give me quite the taste for 'em. Understand has found an importer so is not dependent upon gifts from di Serrante –

Davison accepted a cigarillo.

After they had puffed a little he cleared his throat and remarked how very enviable was Lord Rondegate’s situation – a wife of such accomplishments and so amiable a nature –

Indeed, Cecil agreed, I am most exceedingly fortunate. We sort very well together. Her family are the most agreeable people – in an excellent set –

They did not linger longer than it took to smoke one cigarillo apiece and consume a glass of port, before joining Zipsie in the Mozart salon.

Cecil scrutinized her surreptitiously, but in the lamp-light she did not appear particularly pale, or have dark shadows under her eyes, so mayhap he was worrying unduly.

At length Davison departed, refusing their offer of sending him in the gig – Cecil had a notion that he was going to drop in at the club before returning to Mulcaster House – but expressing enthusiastic appreciation at their hospitality.

I hope, said Zipsie, taking Cecil’s arm as they turned away from the front door, you did not mind my inviting him to dine – it was so much the habit at Bexbury House that I did not think to ascertain whether 'twould suit you – whenever there was no particular occasion and we were dining en famille there would be quite the congeries of guests – old comrades of Uncle Casimir’s – business colleagues of Granda – all sorts of Ollie and Follie’s friends – old Mr Dalrymple quite often –

O, be entirely easy, my dear! He is a most agreeable fellow that thinks very highly of your talents. And that is a very fine practice, though sure, I fancy 'tis more practicable to accommodate at Bexbury House when there are more than one or two unexpected guests –

Quite so. But, Cecil, really?

Really!

She blushed.

Then gulped, and said, had somewhat to communicate to him, and mayhap they might return to the parlour and sit down to it?

So they returned to the salon, and he offered to ring for fresh tea, but she shook her head and went to sit upon the sopha.

He sat down next to her and took her hand.

She gave a little sigh, and then said, had been feeling a little qualmish this last little while – naught very serious, yet, not my usual state of health, but nothing that seemed any matter to go consult a physician over –

Was that why you wished to be closeted with Lady Abertyldd?

Zipsie nodded. And indeed, 'twas extremely agreeable to talk to Mama without the girls there – have had hardly a chance since we returned to Town – and she was most exceeding reassuring. Said that sure, in the early days of marriage, the humours may go as 'twere somewhat out of order, and that is nothing to fret about, but she is like to think there are signs that I go with child, though one cannot be at all definite –

Zipsie! He put an arm around her. That is very fine news, and I daresay she also had very sound advice about how you should conduct yourself – take care – special matters of diet - &C?

She giggled and said, certainly so! But not to make a great deal of it yet, might be mistook.

Well, we shall not convey the intelligence to Tunbridge Wells, then! He could quite imagine that his mother would wish poor Zipsie to lie upon a sopha for the next several months, did she hear this news.


tsuki_no_bara: (Default)
cindy ([personal profile] tsuki_no_bara) wrote2025-07-08 12:35 am

so hot. so, so hot.

oh my flist it is so hot out. *ghasp* if i didn't like my sleep so much i would've gone into work today for the a/c. but sleeeep.

so i've been here a week! and have unpacked more of the kitchen (dishes! mixing bowl! pots! misc utensils!) and the bedroom (jeans! t-shirts! the dress i forgot where i packed it!) and realized yesterday there's one more thing i don't miss about living with someone - i don't have to hear anyone rattling around the kitchen on a morning i want to sleep in. which is very exciting. i do have to unpack some more, tho. and, uh, i think i can hear my downstairs neighbor snoring. O.O i really, really hope he lives alone.

a thing i forgot about the tuesday when it was so hot i had to stay over at my sister's - we had a fire alarm at work. >.< i was on a 10a zoom meeting and suddenly alarms started going off everywhere and a recorded voice said basically GO DIRECTLY TO THE STAIRS AND OUTSIDE DO NOT PASS GO DO NOT COLLECT $200 and when no one else on the zoom had any reaction i just thought oh, so i'm the only one in today. but i went outside and stood in the shade for like ten minutes and then we all went back in. i can't remember what happened but it was something dumb.

anyway. comcast came on thursday so i now have wifi and tv! and have caught up on resident alien. :D i also had to run into harvard square to get my glasses fixed and coincidentally acquire ice cream. orange chocolate chip. DELISH.

for the fourth my sister and i went to a park sort of near her (we went there last year) for fireworks and, uh, ice cream. soft serve. it wasn't crowded when we got there but eventually it filled up and by the time it was dark enough for fireworks there were A LOT of people. fireworks were as usual quite fun and a little kid sitting behind us kept going "wow!" for a couple minutes and then their dad took over and it was INTENSELY cute. i do love a good local fireworks.

saturday i dicked around and went to home sense and home goods and target with my sister for house stuff (got new kitchen towels, did not get a kitchen timer because my stove does not have one, wtf) and then we went out for dinner and saw jurassic park rebirth which overall i think i enjoyed? the story is stupid but let's be honest, you don't watch jurassic movies for the story. you watch for the dinosaurs. and there were some frankly terrifying huge flying ones.

(there were A LOT of previews and most of them were for sequels or remakes except ick (no), bugonia (perhaps), and one battle after another (yes).)

and yesterday because it was hot i zoomed with the mothership, the sister, and cousin pb for iceland and now we are PREPARED. except i need to get a big suitcase because mine broke last year when i went to italy. i even started giving my faculty a heads-up at work and found some admins to look after them in case they need anything. woot.

after that i sat around, met [livejournal.com profile] tamalinn and the tiny dog for ice cream because did i mention it was hot? came home, unpacked some, had dinner, watched andor. it's so good but at the same time i keep expecting people to die.

fifty years ago an exceptionally large time capsule was buried in nebraska. it included letters, photos, art, cassette tapes, and a chevy vega and it was opened on friday. folks traveled even from other states to find the stuff that they or their parents had buried. how cool is that? so cool.