a happy belated birthday to Ann! and ear-candy for a winter's night
(ETA: Eep! I hit "submit" too soon, before I had typed in the best bits. *blushes*)
A few days ago our
just_ann_now celebrated her birthday. I had drafted her a Theodred-centric story but that particular muse has deserted me of late. Which is a real shame as she is the one who made me fall in love with the Rohirrim, and I would like to bring a smile to her face. Hopefully the intention will get a twitchy grin at the least.
Thinking about Rohan means thinking about wintry weathers, with him and Boromir (or perhaps Besorg?) squirrelled away in the keep because the wind is too bitter to go outside that day. Not that I can seriously imagine the two of them that far west in winter, in my serious 'verse. But I like the mental image, and hope Ann will, too. Winter in New York demands cool jazz, so here is a piece that has my bootie-clad toes tapping. I heard it through the Philosophy Smoker. There's something about vibraphone that somehow makes the late fall/early winter weather seem pristine and almost romantic. *happy sighs*
(This is "Django" by Modern Jazz Quartet, btw.)
In the mood for something longer? Try "My Favorite Things" by John Coltrane. 13:45, but worth every second - I always play this during my afternoon tea breaks on snowdays. It's a nice little ritual I have. :-)
But birthdays require more than just ear-candy. They require actual candy, or in this case cake.
This is Boromir's "special" cake that Mag always made on his birthday, which I always imagine at around this time of year. The cake is spice, seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg and apple cider, and inside there's a filling of baked apples, and brown sugar. The frosting is again apple cider-seasoned, and of course cream-cheese - the kind of cake whose scent wafts down the hall and screams "eat me" to anyone in the wing.
Boromir would of course sneak in for an early bite. And Mag would of course whack him across the back of the hand with her rolling-pin. (Wee!Borya or the full-grown warrior, I honestly don't think it will matter.)
I hope you enjoyed your day, Ann, and this little fanciful tour of how "our" boys might have marked the time of year.
~ M.
This entry was originally posted at http://fidesquaerens.dreamwidth.org/21788.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
A few days ago our
just_ann_now celebrated her birthday. I had drafted her a Theodred-centric story but that particular muse has deserted me of late. Which is a real shame as she is the one who made me fall in love with the Rohirrim, and I would like to bring a smile to her face. Hopefully the intention will get a twitchy grin at the least.
Thinking about Rohan means thinking about wintry weathers, with him and Boromir (or perhaps Besorg?) squirrelled away in the keep because the wind is too bitter to go outside that day. Not that I can seriously imagine the two of them that far west in winter, in my serious 'verse. But I like the mental image, and hope Ann will, too. Winter in New York demands cool jazz, so here is a piece that has my bootie-clad toes tapping. I heard it through the Philosophy Smoker. There's something about vibraphone that somehow makes the late fall/early winter weather seem pristine and almost romantic. *happy sighs*
(This is "Django" by Modern Jazz Quartet, btw.)
Click to viewIn the mood for something longer? Try "My Favorite Things" by John Coltrane. 13:45, but worth every second - I always play this during my afternoon tea breaks on snowdays. It's a nice little ritual I have. :-)
But birthdays require more than just ear-candy. They require actual candy, or in this case cake.
This is Boromir's "special" cake that Mag always made on his birthday, which I always imagine at around this time of year. The cake is spice, seasoned with cinnamon, nutmeg and apple cider, and inside there's a filling of baked apples, and brown sugar. The frosting is again apple cider-seasoned, and of course cream-cheese - the kind of cake whose scent wafts down the hall and screams "eat me" to anyone in the wing.
Boromir would of course sneak in for an early bite. And Mag would of course whack him across the back of the hand with her rolling-pin. (Wee!Borya or the full-grown warrior, I honestly don't think it will matter.)
I hope you enjoyed your day, Ann, and this little fanciful tour of how "our" boys might have marked the time of year.
~ M.
This entry was originally posted at http://fidesquaerens.dreamwidth.org/21788.html. Please comment there using OpenID.