It's lucky for me that early spring has been a quiet time for the Eglain. Frideric was already feeling like I'd squirmed out of too much by spending so long in Bree (despite how successful the journey eventually turned out). Had there been anything more strenuous or dangerous to assign me than everyday things like mending cloaks and tilling crop-lands, I'm sure I would have been at the top of his list. But there wasn't (until today, when a report came in from another scout), so I had plenty of time to write. Tonight I must depart for a few days, but that's not a problem, because my book is finished.
Once I got settled in and sat down to write, the ideas were all right there, already organized, words mostly strung together in my thoughts. I almost felt like I was writing what someone else was dictating. Some of the later chapters took some thought to be sure I was as complete as I meant to be (unfortunately I had to leave a few things out for the good of the Eglain, but I was able to avoid putting anything untrue in, and the omissions are not significant). But otherwise it just flowed, and I didn't even have to rewrite most of it.
That has filled nearly all the time that wasn't spent on the work of the tribe, leaving none for other parts of my efforts to take up brewing. I haven't begun to collect wood for barrels, or herbs for dyes (though I did speak to Strangsig and Hana about these, and identified that, other than the obvious choice of woad, I can also bring back some of the leaves of spring gorse which can be used for a light brown dye).
When I return from my assignment, assuming I'm not injured and there's no assignment that follows from it, I hope to find a way to bring the cart down to the woods adjoining Harloeg. If I can find a path that a cart can follow, and a good sheltered spot out of the mire, I can leave it there and fill it with lengths of yew as I have time, then haul it, full, back up to Ost Guruth until I can bring it back to Marnewyn, next time I have an assignment heading to Bree.
I also need to think of a way to get some coins for pipe-weed, while still making progress on my brewing endeavor. It's been difficult, this past week, to do without the pipe. But those few of the Eglain who find the smoke unpleasant are probably glad of it. Not that you can tell! These are generally the same ones whose face reads the same when happy, sad, angry, and tired. Just a perpetual scowl. Maybe some good ale will make them smile, one day!
