Christmas Break Pastimes

Goodness gracious, it's been a long time since I've written anything. Would you believe it, it's been since Fall Break? There are no words. Only, the fact of the matter is that there are. There is an abundance of words that have just been welling up within yours truly until I've reached the breaking point and they must overflow. So far today I have already written two extremely long emails to my dear friends in Pennsylvania, that's one of the lovely parts of having writers for friends, you can send them emails that are roughly the size of a barge (BEAUTY AND THE BEAST REFERENCE) and they won't judge you. Anyway, I sent them emails and now I'm writing a blog post and hopefully soon I'll work on one of my stories, or start a new one, I haven't quite decided yet. It's wonderful to know that I have all the time in the world to do these things. At school whenever I take a writing break I always start feeling dreadfully guilty, which is why my correspondence is so poor when I'm there. As is my blog posting abilities, as can be seen.

Christmas Break is delightful.

So far today I have:

1.) Sat in a rocking chair and had coffee and toast. A long drawn out breakfast, in fact. Oh how I have missed that! I do not appreciate having to be rushed through breakfast. I feel that breakfast is one of those meals that should go at least three hours, four cups of coffee, and two slices of toast. As they say, waking up is hard enough in and of itself, and then we have so much rushing about in the mornings it's just dreadful. I mean, how can one fully come to grips with the fact that one must continue one's day in an orderly fashion when one is being rushed through it so quickly? NOT DURING CHRISTMAS BREAK. I sat for a satisfactory amount of time and had a satisfactory amount of coffee and then I felt satisfactorily ready to start my day. It was done, and it was good.

2.) Knitted. It has been too long between having a good knitting session. I realized this morning that I really do have a nice selection of yarns. I didn't even need to go to the yarn shop to get new stuff before starting on a project. I had it all with me, which gave me great satisfaction and I may or may not have emitted a few little cackles of appreciation.

3.) Wrote long emails. Thank you for putting up with me friends who are on the receiving end of my emails. I love you dearly and you are on your way to sainthood.

4.) I took a nap. Yes, yes I did. It was quite lovely, thank you.

In other news my plan for the rest of my day involves a continuation of such pastimes, with the addition of some story writing, some baking, and some reading of the Book Thief. That will all have to wait till after I've finished my hot chocolate, however. Finishing my hot chocolate is very important in my list of things to get done.

That shall be all, Jeeves. I shall return presently to regale you with tales of my adventures as the book healer. Actually, I think it would be neat to remodel this blog in that theme. I don't know if I really want to delete what I have so far, though. Maybe I'll make a new one. Oh dear, but I have such a bad habit of making far too many blogs. It's really terrible. I like a little bit of change, though, and then I feel so bad just deleting everything I've worked on. I can't decide at all.

Adventures of the Tea-Sippers

OR the Mostly True Recordings of Our Lives in College

Chapter the First

The following records the many and varied pursuits of the Tea-Sippers: a sisterhood formed by their mutual fondness of strong tea, off brand cookies, and intelligent discourse. Intelligent here being: conversation pertaining to the higher things of life (in addition, British witticisms and abstruse references were never disdained). These young women found themselves gathering together in the evenings when the need for tea and conversation grew strong. Their members were constantly changing, they grew in number and in friendship, but their foundational ties remained the same. It was a tie of kinship, of like souls finding like souls, and thus, the Tea-Sippers had found their beginning.

Polly had not been there for the first tea party. Indeed, she did not meet the Tea-Sippers till well nigh her second week of college. She would hear tell of that fateful night when the first tea party was held with a mixture of awe and longing. It had been the founding of a nation, that moment when the six girls first clinked cups. They were the Founding Mothers, and in their wake came the girls of the new nation. They were the Austenites, the novel writers, the tea snobs, the observers of mankind. They took the events of their days, their interactions and conversations, and regaled each other with these in manners of humor or pathos.

For Polly the days before the Tea-Sippers blurred together as an endless string of unfamiliar faces and events. In those days a few events took place that would later stand out to her as the formation upon which her future life at college would depend. One of these events was her introduction to Shirley.

The first thing Polly noticed about Shirley was her book-bag. It was a book-bag of the finest sort, crafted of canvas and upon it was written the title of that much beloved book, Pride and Prejudice. Polly had known from the moment she had first seen that book-bag she was destined to be friends with it's owner. The only question in her mind was how to bring about this friendship. It became a matter of much contemplation, scheming and plotting. Thus, when Polly found herself standing behind Shirley in the lunch-line one fine day, she felt as pleased with herself as if she had caused this encounter. 

Now all I have to do is say hello, and voila! Polly thought happily. She stood behind Shirley a few minutes longer, trying to sort out just what she wanted to say.

"So...you like Pride and Prejudice, eh? Me too!" Polly turned the sentence about in her head and then came to the conclusion that it wouldn't do at all. Lots of people like Pride and Prejudice, Polly. You're not unique in doing so. She mentally shook herself and then tried to think of a new conversation starter. 

"Nice day for lunch?"

"Hello, I'm Polly, we're destined to be friends because I like your book-bag?"

"HELLO. BE MY FRIEND?!"

Polly had just decided to take a normal approach and casually compliment Shirley (oblivious to the mental torture of the girl behind her) on her book-bag, but just then she heard "Hey, nice book-bag!" and turned to see someone had stolen her thunder.

"Nuts." Polly whispered to herself.
This failed attempt at conversation turned out to be much less of a catastrophe than Polly might have supposed, for, as is often the case, when people are meant to be friends, somehow, someway, they will be brought together. However, Polly had very little time for contemplating this interesting subject, because the next day school began. 

Before we proceed with this story I must first tell you something of Polly. Polly may be sweet, perhaps even endearing, but she was without a doubt a trifle scatterbrained. Another thing to note about Polly is that she is quite clumsy and accident prone (but that is a story for another day). So it won't surprise you in the least when I tell you of Polly's first class. Polly's first class was English. Knowing herself well, she had intentionally arrived to her class ten minutes beforehand (giving herself time in case she tripped, slipped, or died along the way.) As it turned out this was a most necessary precaution. 

Polly looked around the classroom feeling quite proud of herself. She had safely arrived, found an empty seat and laid out her books on her desk. Now she could relax. It was then that she began to notice something about the people in the room. It was all a bit puzzling. Hm, there's a lot of upperclassmen in my English 101 class. Polly mused to herself. She turned around in her seat and listened to a conversation at the desk behind her. I didn't bring the books they're talking about. She noted, and sat for a few more minutes staring at the Junior girl in the seat behind her.

"This isn't my English 101 class, is it?" Polly finally asked, her voice resigned. 

The answer was, as she suspected, "no, this is not your English 101 class, dear."

Poor Polly was in a bit of a fluster when she finally found her seat in her proper classroom. It had been a rather busy morning. She leaned over to take her notebooks from her bag- that was when she noticed that much esteemed canvas bag with the words Pride and Prejudice. She turned around and saw that the girl who had just taken the seat next to her was Shirley.

To be continued...