Sing. Cook. Write. Love. Repeat.

Sure, everything is ending...but not yet.

[type-face]

Petulance

The silence is peppered throughout the meal.

My mother and I eat at a darkened restaurant,

each unaware of the other’s thoughts, yet acknowledging the elephant in the room:

Petulance.

It is in every thrash of my teeth as I tear into a porterhouse steak.

Every click of my tongue, thick with acridity, as I try to talk about what she did this week when all I want to

say,

yell,

scream,

‘WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!’

Every breath is a forfeited moment, like the one before, for

connection,

solace,

peace.

But those were lost so many breaths ago.

All that remains is a child’s fear for his mother and a woman’s fear

of death.

That is the crux of my petulance.

Fear.

Every sound I utter is buttered with it. Every syllable garnish it.

PLEASE DON’T FIRE YOUR HOME HEALTH AIDE.

PLEASE STOP DRIVING.

PLEASE BE SAFE.

PLEASE…

My screams are smothered with pink peppercorn sauce as I spoon more rice on my plate and idle on about the politics of the day and worsening traffic conditions.

My mother, across the chasm of a table, aging and hating every second of it.

Clinging desperately to independence

slipping

away

too

fast.

And I am deaf to her cries.

PLEASE LET ME KEEP MY FREEDOM.

PLEASE DON’T LET ME DIE.

PLEASE LET ME BE.

PLEASE…

Her screams are drowned in raspberry vinaigrette as she gnaws the lettuce from her salad and talks about the latest book she’s reading.

The room is filled with unfulfillment as we finish our meal.

Both of us knowing the other is wrong; wishing for a world that doesn’t exist.

That can’t exist.

Our petulance is the one thing binding us.

And the one thing.

Choking us.

[ceeceesings]

ALL. THE. FEELS.

[ceeceesings]

This chappie is for @csota, since she basically predicted where I was going next in my Sunday supper vignettes. 

[ceeceesings]

I wrote another thing. It’s been awhile. I hope to keep writing many things for you all. Thank you for reading and loving my things!

[ceeceesings]

Sisters Plotting. A Pageant, a show. Throwing In. St Nicholas. Helping Hands. Holiday Spirit.

[ceeceesings]

*shuffles sheepishly back on to Tumblr feed*

*taps mic*

“Testing! Testing, 1, 2, 3.”

*does a little dance, posts a little fic*

“OH HAI I MISSED YOU ALL.”

[ceeceesings]

One of the sweetest things about yesterday was all of the little gifts and notes from my Tumblr friends and Secret Santas. I cherish EVERY. SINGLE. PACKAGE. AND. CARD. I received and was giddy and giggly opening them. My kiddos said “Mommy knows so many nice people from everywhere!” I really do. And I hope you all check your mailboxes in the next week or so for an early New Year’s treat! The first goodie  I opened were these kitty measuring cups from my Secret Santa  @Lolaglo1012, basically the perfect thing for this chef and cat-lover. Hugs to you all!! @historynerd15 @csota @chelsie-carson @canadianjudy

[ceeceesings]

Hey there!! Did you receive your package? I'm your Secret Santa!!

I did, thank you SO much! It's under the tree right now, I am going to open tomorrow!! Merry Christmas!

[ceeceesings]

WRITING THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY.

[ceeceesings]

Christmas in Yorkshire in 1927 is VERY special for some of our favorites!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LOVELIES!!!! 

[ceeceesings]

Happy, happy birthday to @historynerd15 !!! 🦉🦉🦉😍😍😍📖📖📖

[ceeceesings]

Hey there! I'm your Secret Santa!🤗 I have a few more questions to ask you, if that's ok. Do you have any pets? What kind of snacks do you like? What are your favorite colors? Do you adult color, Sudoku, word search, crossword, etc..? What kind of nerdy things do you like? Do you like coffee or tea? If so, what kinds/brands? And finally, I hope you're having a great day! -SS🎅 (I hope that wasn't to many questions.)

Hi there! I do have pets - we have cats! 😻 I love crossword puzzles. I collect enamel pins. My fandoms are DA, Harry Potter, XFiles, Star Trek TNG. I love Counter Culture coffee! Thank you! ❤❤❤❤

[ceeceesings]

hello from your secret santa packages were delivered today

Thank you! I will go check! ❤❤❤

[ceeceesings]

Another Train Ride. Changing Colors. A Phone Call. Becky. Seasons' Change. Her Return. Wine, Not Tea. Home.

[espoirmerveilleux]

Somehow this update managed to coincide with #unofficialDAS9. I can’t believe the love you guys have shown for this fic. “Thank you” doesn’t begin to cover it, but I’ll say it all the same!

Excerpt:

“What do you want, Isobel?” He doesn’t mean to sound so put out; it’s more that the unexpectedness of the last half hour’s events has taken its toll on him.

She studies his features for a long moment. “Nothing,” she starts to say, and then doubles back. “I expect nothing. I can only imagine what this must be like for you. It’s clear that by coming here I’ve reopened old wounds. I’ll leave, Richard. You’ll never have to see me again.”

He is a man. A doctor, and a soldier; tears are not a part of his vocabulary. Yet now he feels the salty sting at the outer corners of his eyes. As much as he has at times, over the years, thought it only just that she should be suffering miserably for her choices, he takes it all back now that he sees it played out. He simply loves her too much to turn a blind eye to her anguish, even if he doubted countless times whether he would survive his own.

He sniffs; clears his throat. Shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be right to ask that of you.” His countenance brightens a little when he tells her, “Besides, you still haven’t answered my question.” It’s not quite a smile, but almost, and she mirrors the expression, the both of them thinking how his last remark harks back to old times.

“I want …” she sighs, “… I want to turn back time and take back every cruel word I said to you.” She casts her eyes downwards, silent for a long moment as she thinks. “There are so many things I’d change, if I could go back.” When her eyes meet his again they are clouded with pain. He remembers that look. He hates it, what it stands for.

“Matthew,” he says, and she nods.

“I went mad after I lost him, Richard.” Her eyes are so clear, so earnest. His heart hurts. “As I said before, there is no excuse. But it’s the only way that I can rationalise the woman I became. Looking back now I don’t even recognise her. I wanted putting away, I think, but it wouldn’t have been obvious to any but the sharpest observer.” A long look into his eyes and then, “Is that what you thought?”

“Is it really wise to revisit those times?” It’s a deflection, and if she calls him on it, he won’t deny it. If they’re ever to find a way forward, there is nothing for it but to do exactly that. But his default is now to self-protect, and if she’s going to spend any time around him at all, she’ll have no choice but to accept it.

[ceeceesings]

THIS FIC THO.

[ceeceesings]

Holiday Mood. Fluttery. Argyll Farm Girl. End of Day. A Little Reading. A Photograph Feeling. A Fine Glass of Wine. The Whole Story.

[espoirmerveilleux]

Excerpt:

She watches him, her brow furrowing. “Dr. Clarkson … Richard, I can see I’ve upset you. I assure you I didn’t come here with that intention. I didn’t even know you were here. I—”

“Stop!” he barks. “Stop talking, this instant! You said it all; you didn’t know. You don’t know anything about me or my life now, because you sold me down the river and ran me out of Downton —my home of forty years— without a thought for anyone but yourself. You don’t get to come here, waltz back into my life and say you love me, when every one of your actions points to the fact that you don’t!”

He expects her to argue, to have a corresponding rebuttal for each of his points. She doesn’t. Instead she stands behind the chair with her hands resting on the back of it, watching him. The next time he walks past, she touches his shoulder.

He stops. Stands toe-to-toe and looks at her.

“I know,” she tells him quietly but levelly. “You’re right. I’m sure that nothing I can offer by way of explanation will erase the pain I’ve put you through. I can assure you that I’ve relived it every day since you left, and I’ve been just … sick about it. I would take it all back in a heartbeat if I could. I told you what’s in my heart because I thought that I’d never have the chance. I never expected I’d see you again, but I made up my mind that if I ever did, I would tell you the truth. I don’t expect it to make any difference at all. But you should know that you did nothing to deserve such malice.”

He is gobsmacked. He thinks that he sees genuine contrition in her eyes. At least, that’s what the sorrow currently reflected in them would have meant when he used to know her.

[ceeceesings]

I have a crush on this fic.

[espoirmerveilleux]

Excerpt:

He shifts uneasily from one foot to the other; withdraws his pocket watch; checks the time. As he replaces the watch he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I’m not sure I understand why you’re telling me all of this.”

He watches her flinch, and for an instant he almost regrets his words. But she had shown no regard for him when last they’d known one another, and though he has always been a forgiving sort, he is no pushover.

“I married a man I didn’t love, and burned bridges in so doing. I loved someone else, and my behaviour towards him was abhorrent. There’s nobody to blame but myself for that. Being needed is not the same as being known. By the time I recognized that, the damage had been done.”

“And still I wonder: why are you saying this to me?”

[ceeceesings]

THIS IS SOME SERIOUSLY GREAT RICHOBEL FF RIGHT HERE.