A Quiet Day

 Not much happened today.  I considered having a pajama day but then about ten o'clock I found myself getting dressed.  Instead of the leggings and dress I wore yesterday I put on jeans and a sweater.  It occurred to me that I made those dresses to feel good about myself when I was heavier and now I feel better about myself in jeans.  So be it, jeans it is.  I have two new pairs and three old pairs.  That ought to get me through the winter, don't you think?

In the afternoon I sat down here to write my daily words.  I'm still starting out with a diary-like entry and then after a page or so I segue into the story that I'm working on.  It isn't very cohesive, one day doesn't seem to follow another with any kind of logic but I'm just happy to get some words down every day.

This evening I finished the Chunky Cast Sock.  I like this one, it's very stretchy and I made it longer so that it will fit a man's foot in a cast.

 

 

 

 

18 November--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview. 

Chapter13

            "Mrs. Rose, come here, we found something." 

            I was upstairs scraping paint around the gallery lock so I could get it out of the door to clean it.  Silas and Edward were working in the lobby to get the counter and pigeonholes cleaned up and repaired.  I dropped my scraper and hoped that whatever they'd found wasn't bad and wouldn't cost more money.  I tried not to run downstairs in a panic but I did hurry. 

            "What?" I said as I reached the lobby.  "Tell me it isn't something bad." 

            Edward's head popped up from behind the counter, his smile as bright as the sunshine.  "Wait til you see, Mrs. Rose, it another secret place.  Go get those keys." 

            My heart lurched and I turned to rummage for the keys in the bag I carried back and forth.  Naturally they were buried deep but I pulled them out and hurried over to the boys.  "Show me," I said.  Both of them grinned and pointed into the dark space under the counter.  "Where?" I said, "I don't see anything." 

            Silas tugged me down next to him. "Here.  Right here, Mrs. Rose." 

            There at the end of his finger was a keyhole in the space under the countertop.  I handed him the ring of keys.  "You try it.  I'm not having much luck with these things." 

            "You sure?" he said. 

            I nodded.  Silas sorted through the fourteen keys to find a skeleton key without tape on it.  It took all my strength not to jerk the keys back and do it myself but he finally found one and slid it into the hole.  It turned on the first try.  Why didn't it ever work like that for me?  He eased the door open by pulling on the key.  The wood stuck a bit but soon the door popped open. 

            I could see Edward's fingers twitch and said, "See if there's anything there, Edward." 

            He stretched out trembling fingers, stopped and rubbed his fingertips like a safe cracker, then reached into the dark space.  And pulled his hand back fast with a girlish shriek when a mouse shot out.   

Silas and I fell backwards into the wall, laughing our fool heads off. 

            Edward scowled at us.  "You would be surprised too." 

            We got our laughter under control, crouched next to him again, and tried not to giggle as his hand went in a second time.  He came out with a stack of letters that were partly chewed and lots of mouse nest.  No babies, thank god. 

            "Silas," I said, "go get that white basin.  Edward, scoop it all out and into the basin when Silas gets back."

            Once Edward had scraped out all of the mouse nest and scraps of paper, I took the basin out into the backyard in the shade to see what had been hiding in there and for how long. 

            The letters were from people looking to make reservations months and months before they planned to arrive.  I thought about how much work and pre-planning it took to arrange an overseas trip before the days of the internet and email.  Even calling long distance cost a lot of money so people calculated what they would say and how quickly they could get off the phone.  Not like now when calls weren't charged extra for being long distance and texts and emails flew through the ether like electronic arrows. 

            Most of the letters were from one particular woman which piqued my interest.  Why would a hotelier keep letters from a regular guest in a secret locked compartment?  What did they have to hide?    I leaned back against the tree and closed my eyes, thinking about a long-ago innkeeper and a guest that came to stay for months at a time, year after year.  I dozed off and dreamed of walking hand in hand down the sandy beach with Jim, seeing Iggy in the distance, and seeing the hurt in his eyes watching Jim and me happy together. 

            I woke up feeling something crawl on my neck and slapped my hand to brush it away.  My eyes flew open when Edward laughed at my side. 

            "You was sleeping, Mrs. Rose," he said.  "Silas says nail pulling does not stop for nap time."       

"Huh," I said. "You made me think a spider or a lizard was on me." 

            He chuckled.  "I knows." 

            I squinted up at him.  "Not funny."

Today's toss was a short stack of sewing books and one knitting book.  I don't know why I keep the knitting books.  All of the patterns I'll ever need are on Ravelry, the fiber website, and most of them are free.  Time to cull the knitting books.

Tomorrow I'll have to go out and fill the birdfeeders.  Not many birds have been visiting and I think it's because the feeders are getting empty.  That makes perfect sense.  It's supposed to get up to almost 60 tomorrow but be very windy.  Can't have everything.

--Barbara