omg, your writing is so lush and whatever the opposite of skin deep is. I feel as though I were walking in that place, and being served that breakfast.... which to my horror sounds delicious, to the point where even my imagination feels overfed. (Not in a bad way; just as though I would eat everything, and then BE SO SORRY, even if my next job were mucking out the stables and weeding the vegetables.) I've been yearning for Washington State, and now I'm feeling as though I really do have to produce something, even though it's nearly as young as England is old -- as a treat, my mother used to drive us through Port Ludlow (I believe it was Ludlow; it's been many years and oh blast now googling's in my future) to let us look at the old, old houses -- mid-Victorian era. even the midwest was a shock, when my ex drove me to see the oldest houses in Iowa -- built in the 1830s, some of them.Reading your prose makes me feel as though I live in a world which floats above the earth.
so thank you for the pleasure, and I will now ponder how to describe a place which, when I was growing up, was still more than half wilderness uncut. Old, but beyond living memory, so not quite friendly to humans.
Rural life does aid in burning off the calories, I find.wemyssJune 14 2012, 18:12:57 UTC
I shd be vy interested as ever to see what you turn out for this. (I'd occasion recently to observe that my constituency was created in 1295. It really is true that a trip of a thousand miles seems to an American, quite near, and a distance of a thousand years, to a Briton, quite recent.)
so thank you for the pleasure, and I will now ponder how to describe a place which, when I was growing up, was still more than half wilderness uncut. Old, but beyond living memory, so not quite friendly to humans.
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