sixth romance | action & audio
[ today holds only mister scott's physics class and the brigade meeting -- this meant that anne had most of a day to herself and she was determined to get some alone time in with the rapidly thawing wilderness. she doesn't have to wrap up too warmly...just a wool cardigan over her dress and a pair of gloves tucked into a pocket just in case.
march twenty-first is so close. she likes to imagine that she can smell spring's approach -- in the mud and old grass and wet bark. it is comforting; this place (for being a wholly new place) still felt an awful lot like the island. back home, the farm would be gearing up for another season. perhaps marilla would have one of the buote boys over to coax daisy the cow out of her barn. poor marilla...is she all alone? the veterans of this place tell her otherwise and insist that things will go back to as they were when she returns. but that isn't an easy truth to swallow.
miss anne shirley perches herself primly upon a bench just off the village centre. she has her journal with her and just now flicks it open. ]
'Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, a box where sweets compacted lie;' [ my musick shows ye have your closes and all must die. but anne isn't keen on finishing george herbert's line for the rest of the captives as it lacked the gentle positivity of the first half -- although she cannot deny its truth. ]
That recent draft took villagers to farmland, but it seems a shame that we have no farming of our own in these walls. If I'm to believe Matthew -- and I do with every fibre of my soul -- then farming is a very peaceful pastime indeed. Even still, I wake up and keenly feel the absence of any cows to feed.
Maybe I should keep a garden. Do you think that lupins will grow, here?
march twenty-first is so close. she likes to imagine that she can smell spring's approach -- in the mud and old grass and wet bark. it is comforting; this place (for being a wholly new place) still felt an awful lot like the island. back home, the farm would be gearing up for another season. perhaps marilla would have one of the buote boys over to coax daisy the cow out of her barn. poor marilla...is she all alone? the veterans of this place tell her otherwise and insist that things will go back to as they were when she returns. but that isn't an easy truth to swallow.
miss anne shirley perches herself primly upon a bench just off the village centre. she has her journal with her and just now flicks it open. ]
'Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, a box where sweets compacted lie;' [ my musick shows ye have your closes and all must die. but anne isn't keen on finishing george herbert's line for the rest of the captives as it lacked the gentle positivity of the first half -- although she cannot deny its truth. ]
That recent draft took villagers to farmland, but it seems a shame that we have no farming of our own in these walls. If I'm to believe Matthew -- and I do with every fibre of my soul -- then farming is a very peaceful pastime indeed. Even still, I wake up and keenly feel the absence of any cows to feed.
Maybe I should keep a garden. Do you think that lupins will grow, here?