Written By Tanith
May 1, 2020, 10:43 p.m.(3/19/1013 AR)
It's not Friday if I haven't been puked on and called a bastard-fucker. There is much joy in throwing drunks out of the Murder and hearing someone use my husband's name as an invocation of warning. The look of horror ... so sweet.
Written By Tanith
May 1, 2020, 10:41 p.m.(3/19/1013 AR)
Husband. I have no road map in this, us, in how we work and how we're supposed to do this together. I thought I'd been content with my life before, and I was, truly. But if I was told I'd have to go back to that, I wouldn't know what to do. It was the step I never expected, the chapter closing on the life I was happy with only for the new chapter to hold such wonders as to take my breath away. A new life and a new way, a new kind of contentment that resonates through all of me. I am grateful and still quite dazed, and these days? There's always a new surprise waiting for me around the corner.
Written By Tanith
May 1, 2020, 10:21 p.m.(3/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Austen
Anything worth doing is worth doing thoroughly. This gentleman did that and then some, and my warm feelings and gratitude are definitely shared. To new friendships ... and tasks done well. And thoroughly. Sometimes with tea.
And cake.
And cake.
Written By Tanith
April 29, 2020, 3:07 p.m.(3/14/1013 AR)
Everyone fears the wrath of a caring, loving mother/mother-figure that suspects you're not eating properly or aren't wearing the right coat in winter. -Everyone-. And if you don't, you should. Wear your coat like we always do. Because we do. Always. Wear our winter coats. Our mother gave them to us and we wear them -every- day.
Written By Tanith
April 25, 2020, 9:27 p.m.(3/6/1013 AR)
Some very pissed off sailors in the Murder this past week. A few fights and broken bottles, lots of booked rooms. And boredom. Lots and lots of boredom.
Take up some knitting, you scabbers' dogs. Crochet is good too.
Take up some knitting, you scabbers' dogs. Crochet is good too.
Written By Tanith
April 24, 2020, 4:01 p.m.(3/4/1013 AR)
Anyone who's pulled a drain knows what a whirlpool -normally- means. I am concerned, scholar. Very concerned.
Written By Tanith
April 23, 2020, 4:07 p.m.(3/2/1013 AR)
My cakes at the event Sabella held were a success! Vegetable cake included. I was shocked to hear what she did with them, but delighted too; nothing was wasted!
The recipes that were presented are all for sale at my bakery in the Commons' courts. I will bake for most events and sometimes even funerals.
The recipes that were presented are all for sale at my bakery in the Commons' courts. I will bake for most events and sometimes even funerals.
Written By Tanith
April 21, 2020, 4:18 p.m.(2/26/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Verity
A hedonistic warzone made of cake.
(Delightful.)
(Delightful.)
Written By Tanith
April 21, 2020, 3:55 p.m.(2/26/1013 AR)
If people are comparable to a food, Verity Lock is a raspberry cake. With lemon pie hidden inside. And the whole thing covered in icing.
Written By Tanith
April 20, 2020, 9:33 p.m.(2/24/1013 AR)
The trouble with making so much food, like for the party, is the fear that there will be too much left over. Fortunately, some tall scary fucker gave me the great idea of cooking even more food, passing it around the Murder and the soup kitchens when the party was done. Seemed to be well received, and I don't feel like anything was wasted. Hand-pies keep well, and so does bread, and if you have cups or mugs or buckets, stew is easy enough to carry off.
I have cakes on order, now, and my business plans are going right along. Nothing is perfect however, and I'm very well aware that the world we live in? Far from that. I'll keep working hard and keep the Murder in semi-decent order, do my best to be the bringer of booze and joy (and cookies, that's a new one). With the turn out the other night, I gotta say: it was humbling in the extreme to have so many take the time to wish us well. And gifts! Holy tits, I have no idea what to do with it all.
I have cakes on order, now, and my business plans are going right along. Nothing is perfect however, and I'm very well aware that the world we live in? Far from that. I'll keep working hard and keep the Murder in semi-decent order, do my best to be the bringer of booze and joy (and cookies, that's a new one). With the turn out the other night, I gotta say: it was humbling in the extreme to have so many take the time to wish us well. And gifts! Holy tits, I have no idea what to do with it all.
Written By Tanith
April 20, 2020, 1:28 a.m.(2/22/1013 AR)
Please don't ask me anything about the party. After the earthworms came out, I forgot most everything.
Dammit, -where- is my basket?
Dammit, -where- is my basket?
Written By Tanith
April 19, 2020, 9:22 p.m.(2/22/1013 AR)
Someone left pants up in the rafters. And a left shoe. Also I think this was a dress but it's been knotted up like a bag? It's got cookies in it. Also, where's my basket?
Written By Tanith
April 19, 2020, 7:48 p.m.(2/22/1013 AR)
WE HAD A PARTY. YES. Party.
where is my-
where is my-
Written By Tanith
April 19, 2020, 5:09 p.m.(2/22/1013 AR)
What a party. I am tired.
Chandelier swinging!
Orphans!
Worms! Shoes!
-Lies-.
It was fantastic.
Chandelier swinging!
Orphans!
Worms! Shoes!
-Lies-.
It was fantastic.
Written By Tanith
April 17, 2020, 9:03 p.m.(2/18/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Sydney
She wants my cake recipe. She can have it the next time she knocks me out.
Which will probably be whenever we meet in the ring again. I have no illusions. None.
Which will probably be whenever we meet in the ring again. I have no illusions. None.
Written By Tanith
April 17, 2020, 11:18 a.m.(2/17/1013 AR)
Up all night making cookies and I think I've run out of sanity. Or energy. Both? I definitely have enough flour and fuel. I am laughing at myself about it all, though, fussing over details like this. Food's next but maybe I ought to sleep first. You lose time creating, my mother always said so, when you're inspired. I can't tell if I'm actually inspired or just over-fussing.
Written By Tanith
April 16, 2020, 8:43 p.m.(2/16/1013 AR)
I have no idea where I put my gloves. Or my scarf.
Written By Tanith
April 16, 2020, 2:23 a.m.(2/14/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Corrigan
My cousin has the most amazing ability, scholar: he can scrub pots with just his face. He does such a good job of it, I may never let him buy another drink at the Murder again so long as he continues to do so. He can walk right through the doors and there I'll be with all the pots, waiting. Everyday. And after, I'll let him have a drink so long as he can still swallow.
Written By Tanith
April 15, 2020, 3:28 a.m.(2/13/1013 AR)
There's a rumor going around that I'm funny and have a sense of humor. It's completely untrue, don't believe it.
Written By Tanith
April 14, 2020, noon(2/11/1013 AR)
Relationship Note on Emara
Emara makes the most amazing soap. She used to make me some when she was in the city, told me it was because I smelled like the Murder and she -hated- that. Which I still don't understand.
But what I understood -less- was how she could make soap that didn't have you smell like roses dipped in alcohol and jasmine. I mean, when it's done and it smells overpowering and awful. I don't have her gifts but even I choke when someone drifts by and they reek of Abyssal-floral-ass. (Scholar, I didn't know what that meant until I happened by the Ambassador Salon during some ... birthday party for a princess, I think? It's apt. Trust me.)
Emara can make a perfume, or a soap, or whatever, that makes it seem like you haven't scented yourself, that you woke up literally smelling like rosemary, that it's a part of your character and nothing artificial. It's amazing. I don't know how she does it. She makes our mother smell like she's a walking, breathing, smiling lemon bar. Our father swears that's just 'how she be!' (Scholar, he insisted it was a 'part of her natural cycle, bless her'. I can't.)
I can't wait for her to make me soap again.
But what I understood -less- was how she could make soap that didn't have you smell like roses dipped in alcohol and jasmine. I mean, when it's done and it smells overpowering and awful. I don't have her gifts but even I choke when someone drifts by and they reek of Abyssal-floral-ass. (Scholar, I didn't know what that meant until I happened by the Ambassador Salon during some ... birthday party for a princess, I think? It's apt. Trust me.)
Emara can make a perfume, or a soap, or whatever, that makes it seem like you haven't scented yourself, that you woke up literally smelling like rosemary, that it's a part of your character and nothing artificial. It's amazing. I don't know how she does it. She makes our mother smell like she's a walking, breathing, smiling lemon bar. Our father swears that's just 'how she be!' (Scholar, he insisted it was a 'part of her natural cycle, bless her'. I can't.)
I can't wait for her to make me soap again.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.