Where has the sun gone? It were so beautiful and bright the past few days, and now it's drizzly and chilly again. I don't mind rain in the summer. In fact, I rather love it! I'd run outside anytime I could if a summer storm came through when I were a girl, and splash in the warm puddles till I were soaked through. Ma would be hollering at me, saying I looked like a drowned muskrat, though she were laughing all the while and not truly angry. Long as I got all the mud off my feet before coming in!
Oh, bless me, speaking of mud! I remember one summer when Emory and I were youngins (I must have been about thirteen?) and Pa had dug up a field at the back of the farm and left behind a big, big pile of soil, like a minach mineet small mountain! Emory got the notion to start hauling pails of water out to it and pouring them over the top, so's they'd run down and turn the whole thing muddy. We started climbing our way to the top, slipping and falling all the way, and then we'd slide down on our bottoms into a big pool of mud at the bottom! Up and down, up and down, we did it all afternoon, laughing ourselves silly. I can't believe now that we were such bold rascals! I looked at Emory when we were tired and done, and he were black from his neck to his toes! Same with me! I thought Ma would murder us! I never did get my dress back to its right color, no matter how much I scrubbed. But I didn't regret it!
Lands, Taite, what a ramble. What were you even going to write about before you went off down that garden path?
Well, anyhow. I haven't seen or heard anything of Emory for months. It's something that's always nagging at the back of my head. Should I go visit him? I'm not even sure where he's living now. It's one of those things where I don't know what the "right thing" is. He's my brother. Does that mean I ignore all he's done and keep trying? Isn't it his duty to come and apologize to me first for everything he did? Am I a "bigger person" if I go looking for him and act like I'm not scared and hurt? Or am I just a fool? I haven't told Tairy much about him. And I don't want to. I'll just feel heartbroken, and he'll be worried and grim and tell me he's sorry for me.
Bah! Onto happier things!
I got myself a new dress. It's nothing terribly fancy. I wouldn't even know how to behave in a proper fancy dress. But somehow it doesn't seem pleasant to go through the bright, lovely spring wearing an old, dull, brown thing. I picked something in green, since spring is full of it! Is it vain of me, to want to feel...well, less dull? Did I buy it because I hope Tairy might find a reason to look at me? I don't want to be vain. And you know what? Never mind I even said that. It's not vain! Or if it is...it's not a bad sort of thing. I remember Ma once telling me that flowers aren't ashamed to be beautiful, nor birds, nor rainbows, and neither should people. She said that "feeling pretty isn't the same as feeling like the world owes you something". I never really thought about it much, but I remember always thinking Ma were the prettiest woman in Bree. Maybe all daughters think that about their mothers? But now, looking back, why did I think it? She weren’t tall, or slender, or young anymore. She had flyaway brown hair and very dark eyes and a round, jolly face. I liked her soft, round face. I think what made her most pretty were that she were always smiling, and her eyes would fair twinkle when she smiled.
I know I’m keeping away from writing about Mister Tairy. And I can’t help calling him “Mister” sometimes! It just slips out! He feels so far above me. He’s so grand and skilled and he knows so many things and he’s been so many places. Last night, though, he asked someone not to call him “Tairy”. He said it were a close name, only for certain folk. My heart did one of those silly, foolish flips that it does around him. I… well, for goodness’ sake, I just need to come out with it. He’s asked to court me. I can’t even look at the words without blushing and smiling like the biggest idiot in the world. And oh, my, he asked so carefully and so respectfully! But that’s how he does everything, isn’t it. I’ve never known anyone so...so gentlemanly. I could sit here and blather on for pages about him, but I will spare this poor diary from all my sap! I can’t even put into words how it all feels, so I won’t try!
Now my mind goes to dear Miss Finchley, as she’s sort of newly smitten with someone, too. I think I can call her a proper friend now, and that makes me so happy. I hate that she’s about to go away on a journey, just when I’ve started feeling close to her! The thought of her prancing about the roads alone makes my stomach into a knot, but she swears she’ll be fine. But how do you not worry about someone? She’s just a young little thing, she’s so tiny, too! And there are bandits and wolves and highwaymen and all sorts of things out there. I can’t stop her from going, of course. But I just as much can’t stop myself from worrying on her until she’s back here in one piece. I wish her sweetheart, Hawk, was going with her, but he’s apparently gone in another direction on some journey of his own. All these wandering folk! Am I the only soul happy to stay in one place?
Miss Finchley confided to me about having her very first kiss! I felt my heart jump about because...well, I’m waiting for the same thing. It’s on my List, after all. And now it seems there may be an actual someone to do the job. Ah, gracious me, I can’t stop giggling now, and I know my face is red as a tomato! I’m terrified! How does one even do it? How do you know, how do you learn? Oh, sure, sure, we all smooch the crook of our elbow when we’re little to act like we know anything about kissing. But your elbow isn’t another person! There’s no lips there! Bless me, I’m just babbling on like a proper lunatic. The whole notion just sends me into a tizzy!
Well, I don’t think I’m going anywhere today in this rain. Time to get up off my hams and start breakfast!
