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Written By Tanith

Nov. 29, 2020, 10:29 p.m.(6/23/1014 AR)

He's a pious man.

You wouldn't think it to look at him, my Raymesin, but he prays more than I do. The moment accounts for it, he does it. He takes his time, says it right, and then moves right along. He knows what he is, does his job better than anyone else, but always takes the time to pray.

He is kind in those moments, compassionate for a heartbeat, but he doesn't linger in it. What's done is done, and he keeps on after.

Written By Tanith

Nov. 22, 2020, 9:10 p.m.(6/9/1014 AR)

Princess Jaenelle Velenosa came up with a great little competition. I think all my answers are wrong but I will say Raymesin and I giggled into our dinner coming up with them. His were better. I think I got mead out my nose twice over a few.

A spot of levity amidst a lot of serious days. I enjoyed it.

Written By Tanith

Nov. 22, 2020, 9:08 p.m.(6/9/1014 AR)

There's tension in the Lowers again. Not the typical kind, not the kind that chases you into alleys and has you holding your breath, or diffusing fights among vendors in the market; something else. Something worse. Fear but not of each other. Everyone is waiting for news, everyone wants direction.

Whatever comes, I'm not afraid, but damn if I don't wish I knew what might.

Written By Tanith

Nov. 18, 2020, 5:39 p.m.(5/28/1014 AR)

My husband is apparently a terrible influence.

This actually doesn't surprise me anymore.

Written By Tanith

Nov. 12, 2020, 2:01 p.m.(5/16/1014 AR)

Harlequins try to be there at the end, deal with what's left, minister to who's left. It's a strange journey for me, being around so many 'beginnings'. I wonder what it will be like if I out live them all, and hold the hands of people I helped bring into this world, me feeble and white-haired and them no better. Time equalizes us all, yeah?

I saw a girl I delivered of her mother when I was 17, helping a midwife who was handling twin mothers birthing at the same time. That baby is 15 now, taller than me, long limbs and a big grin and I see her helping her family at the docks. Nearly grown as teenagers seem to look. I don't think I'll have kids of my own to mark the time like that, watching a person go from babe to child to adulthood, but it happens to me just the same. One day, I'll be 75 and she'll be 60. 95 and 80. If I'm lucky. And then we'd be old together and-

...fuck, scholar. Sorry. There's something in my eye.

Written By Tanith

Nov. 1, 2020, 2:33 p.m.(4/22/1014 AR)

Work up feeling better than when I went to sleep. That masquerade...

Strange. Fascinating. Unique. I don't know if I'll ever go again, but I feel a bit like I've crossed the experience off my list of 'to-dos'.

My eyes still hurt, and not a one of us drank.

So strange.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 31, 2020, 1:11 a.m.(4/19/1014 AR)

My husband is a man of many talents.

I'm excited to see what we'll all look like at the masquerade, together.

Also I must ask Lady Monique who the Abyss made this stunning necklace he won.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 29, 2020, 7:43 p.m.(4/16/1014 AR)

My mother calls them 'triple anniversaries', but I worry that is misleading; she insists it's the only fitting term for such a situation. Either way:

Happy anniversary. You are a blessing and we love you for always.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 27, 2020, 8:11 p.m.(4/12/1014 AR)

Oh boy. What a hoot that was. So many filthy songs! And at least one very weird, filthy, grim one. Fantastic! We really ought to do this every year.

And a song about tits won! Yes! Excellent. ...was it about tits? Or was it about-

Written By Tanith

Oct. 26, 2020, 8:39 p.m.(4/10/1014 AR)

Someone asked me at the bakery if I thought the Breadcrumb books honored Jayus.


Really?

Written By Tanith

Oct. 26, 2020, 7:18 p.m.(4/10/1014 AR)

I forgot, scholar; what day is it?

Written By Tanith

Oct. 25, 2020, 9:26 p.m.(4/8/1014 AR)

My husband is a thistle flower with poisoned nettles and razor blades for petals. He is rare and exquisite and ours.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 24, 2020, 1:51 a.m.(4/5/1014 AR)

After a conversation with Raja and Svana, I realized that I hadn't looked in on the other mothers and families I've attended since the moment in the Shrine. So today, I took a little bit of time to walk through the rain and the sunlight (ah, spring!) and check in on the little ones I'd been blessed to handle first.

Beyond the smiles and the babies and the hugs (and the food!), there was nothing. Nothing exciting, nothing wrong, nothing abnormal. -Nothing-. Fat babies that slept through the night, rested mothers with ample milk and clean, well-healed bodies, no colic, no sore bits, nothing that couldn't be changed with an adjustment of diet (don't eat broccoli or eat too much dark chocolate and drink chamomile at bedtime).

Boring. Nothing. Fat babies. Healthy mothers.


Written By Tanith

Oct. 22, 2020, 12:27 p.m.(4/2/1014 AR)

Oh look. It's spring. Just like that.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 20, 2020, 9:47 a.m.(3/25/1014 AR)

Serving one of the more quiet, gruff patrons of the Murder this morning, a woman with hair the color of polished silver and a manner that reminds me of an annoyed Wagner Ulbran. We call her 'Kaydy' but I don't think that's her name.

She was glaring at a pair of youngsters in their second decade, giggling at a table about an event for unattached folk that I guess is coming up. Something about 'what makes a good marriage' or similar, discussed by a bunch of 'singles'.

She glared and sipped, pulled a bit of smoke to curl out now and then, listening. When Kaydy spoke I thought a rusty door hinge was about to snap, so rough was it with pipe and cough, and this woman hardly ever said a word to me; she's one of the regulars that makes her order with a grunt and a nod.

"Tanith." I can't tell you how she knew my name. "You'd think these morons would know that you don't talk about the sea to a sailor as hasn't made it past the harbor."

Taking this miracle of speech in stride, I smirked at her as I filled a pot of tea. "You married then?"

She snorted and croaked, "I was. Twice." A drag and exhale of smoke. "Nineteen years the first time and twenty-four the second." She winked at me. "Hit the harbor young and rode those ships until they fell apart."

I smiled. "You should go, then." I slid a cup of tea to her. "Talk to those brats and tell them the gifts you learned under Limerance."

She smiled back, gold tooth flashing. "Or you could. Rumor is you've a nice, respected setup yourself." Smoke, then cough. "A year now, is it? Ulbran and a Grayhope's a funny enough mix on its own. You two? Them as brave enough to whisper the words 'happily married' in your wake don't giggle when they do it." She winked again.

I don't often blush in public, but when I do and it's not my lover that sets it off, it's in front of cackling old biddies who then proceed to point it out to everyone around her.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 18, 2020, 5:04 p.m.(3/22/1014 AR)

I traded a barrel of honeymead from one of the other taverns, for a barrel of spiced wine that now sits in the Murder.

Nothing fancy either way, though I had a little hand in making what I traded. Serving alcohol that can be done so warmed is always smart when the nights are cold, well into spring from early autumn. Some folk say it makes them feel spoiled, others 'too soft'.

Money is money, but a hot whiskey apple cider and a good dollop of honey on a cold evening can make everything better, even on the shit days.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 14, 2020, 4:57 p.m.(3/14/1014 AR)

Relationship Note on Wagner

What? No, of course I have no idea what he's talking about.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 10, 2020, 8:53 p.m.(3/6/1014 AR)

I know people that stab things when they're stressed out, over-burned by thoughts that gnaw like angry weasels.

What a waste, say I. My mother says, 'make something!'

Lemon cake and tarts. And chocolate cake. And more tarts.

Until the sun comes up.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 9, 2020, 10:07 a.m.(3/3/1014 AR)

I've never had a problem sharing my pie or my tarts, but I do save the best for my loves. Sharing feels great, but I enjoy making those dearest to me feel special. And I hope they do.

Written By Tanith

Oct. 9, 2020, 8:52 a.m.(3/3/1014 AR)

Three fingers are stained purple.

Worth it.

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