[locked to hesdead_jim] Dust Bowl Dance
The days grew colder and Christine found herself pulling on an extra pair of stockings in the mornings and covering her shoulders with a shawl. Winter was right around the corner and she was both excited and nervous to see what winter close to the Rocky Mountains was like. In New Orleans it had just been damp and wet, but now she would actually get to see real snow, not just the pictures on postcards.
Today found her busy working over the stove and checking the little oven all day. The town was having a big dance to cap off the season before winter came and people stayed mostly in their homes, bundled up warm. Christine had agreed to make a few pies and other various things to bring along. She only had New Orleans' socials to go off of, but she was sure this celebration would be much more rustic. That was fine with her. She was learning that life out here wasn't all gloomy, especially with Leonard for company.
He didn't think like most other men, and he had even started teaching her about medicine. She soaked it all in like a sponge, craving more and more knowledge, while trying not to think about what would become of all this knowledge once she returned to her mother in the spring. Would she lose it all as she sat in a fine dress, making pointless conversation with other widows?
Christine checked the clock and wiped off her hands on her apron. Less than an hour to go before the dance started. That gave her time to wash up and put on a fresh dress. After taking the last pie out of the oven and setting it on a rack to cool, she untied her apron and folded it over the back of a chair, heading upstairs to get ready.
Today found her busy working over the stove and checking the little oven all day. The town was having a big dance to cap off the season before winter came and people stayed mostly in their homes, bundled up warm. Christine had agreed to make a few pies and other various things to bring along. She only had New Orleans' socials to go off of, but she was sure this celebration would be much more rustic. That was fine with her. She was learning that life out here wasn't all gloomy, especially with Leonard for company.
He didn't think like most other men, and he had even started teaching her about medicine. She soaked it all in like a sponge, craving more and more knowledge, while trying not to think about what would become of all this knowledge once she returned to her mother in the spring. Would she lose it all as she sat in a fine dress, making pointless conversation with other widows?
Christine checked the clock and wiped off her hands on her apron. Less than an hour to go before the dance started. That gave her time to wash up and put on a fresh dress. After taking the last pie out of the oven and setting it on a rack to cool, she untied her apron and folded it over the back of a chair, heading upstairs to get ready.