CrazyCholeBlack

Jane's attention had drifted to the rope in her hands, a steady line of knots working its way along the cord. She jerked out of her focus when she heard Red Cat mention her name. Dropping the rope she hastened to the bow of the ship, figuring to slip unnoticed down the fore hatch and back to her hammock to avoid any additional interrogation. Jane lifted the hatch and was about to drop into the dimly lit space when Roberts caught up with her. His heavy foot landed on the trap door, the loud thump startling on the otherwise quiet ship. "May I help ye Mr. Roberts?" A pale brow raised to question him, while green eyes wandered to the open hatch and a possible quick escape.

^ Not really. I'm not a high maintanance "girly-girl". Though I do care about my clothes, I blame that on a love of fabric more than anything. < Can be down right neglectful of her looks sometimes too, especailly when just sitting around at home. V What's the ugliest piece of clothing that you've actually wore in public?

Jane released a soft sigh as Red Cat dropped the line of questioning. Pulling her legs up, she made herself comfortable on the tall coil of rope. She found a loose end, absently twisting the piece into random knots. The Cat was watching something just past the rail. Stretching Jane caught sight of the small boat skimming across the water. "That tha yawl comin or from tha Relentless?" She questioned, already guessing the answer. Red Cat simply nodded, not moving another muscle as she eyed the approaching boat. "Don't guess any ones brought Mr. Tar to his bearings yet then, aye?" Jane laughed, wondering what news, and better yet, what excitement, the little boat would be bringing them.

Jack Johnson & Friends Curious George soundtrack. Little swab was listening to it before falling asleep & it's really not bad for late night, singer/songwriter music.

^ Depends on what I'm shopping for. Staples, big box. But I can be really picky about specialty stores too. I love my local quilting shop (& they love me & my "projects" ) or the local heath food co-op. Big box stores just can't compare when it really matters. < Still having terrible sweet tooth cravings. Toast, orange juice & fruit just aren't cutting it. I want cookies! & brownies! & that muffin with cream cheese frosting! V Can you eat what ever you want or do you have to watch what you eat?

Nope I still swear. I'm not an insomniac. This week I'm blaming my lack of sleep on this cough. I really did try to sleep last night & the blasted thing kept waking me up every hour. The couple of weeks before that I had too much sewing to do & needed the extra time, before that, well I had a good excuse. See, it's all about having a *reason* to be up.

"Oh" Jane muttered, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She'd been so concerned about avoiding Ransom's questions, she'd completely forgotten about Red Cat. She had no idea how much of Roberts past the Cat knew, but it was always safe to err on the lesser side. "Tis nuthin. Jest, tha past really." Jane chewed anxiously at her thumb nail, avoiding eye contact with the curious Cat as much as possible without seeming obvious. She hoped in vain that her vague answer would be enough to keep the other women happy.

yes! sweets! cake and cookies. yum warm cookies. and a muffin, with cream cheese frosting.

Jane had been puttering about the Rakehell, lending her hand with the incoming supplies, when one of Ransom's men told her that Red Cat was looking to talk with her. Jane thanked the man, who's name had already escaped her memory before climbing out of nearly full hold. Coming onto the open deck, Jane was surprised at the late hour. She'd nearly forgotten how quickly time could pass when there was work to be done. "Ye were looking fer me, Red Cat?" Jane called, wiping her hands against her dusty skirts as she approached the other lady.

hi jenny!! :) That's either the "I'm really happy 'cause Red Cat is cool & said hi to me" face, or she's about to start running around like a maniac singing "the itsy bitsy spider" at the top of her lungs for the next 20 minutes. (I'm really hoping it's the former)

^ Only do stuff "on the day" because the little swab is old enough to read the darned calender < ugh, wish people would stop mentioning junk food. I want sweets, so badly! I don't know who buys all the healthy food in this house, but they really shouldn't let her do the grocery shopping anymore. V Who does the grocery shopping around your house?

How to tell your kid is tired of shopping....

What about mourning jewelery? Mourning rings were a popular status symbol well into the 18th century. They were frequently black & gold enamel, sometimes with the deaths head in white on them.

^ Have the one little swab, aka the 6 year old ball of personality. < Speaking of the little swab, she's counting down the days till valentines. Guess I'd better do something special for her. V who is your special valentine?

Jane paused in the doorway just outside the main room of the battered tavern. The space was eerily quiet despite the late hour. A heavy table lay propped near the front door but there were no other signs of damage. The few remaining sailors from the Anna, dozed in their chairs, sleeping off the drink and excitement of the days prior. Several others gathered in a corner, swapping tales of the storm in tired but no less excited voices. Searching the room, Jane spotted the familiar curled lump of Adam Westing, her mate aboard the merchantman. The boy sat hunched in a stiff backed chair, his cheek pressed against his own knee as he slept. Jane smiled slightly, relieved to see that the boy had made it through the storm no worse for wear. She had always had a soft spot for him. Perhaps it was his cheerful nature aboard the dismal ship, or perhaps he simply reminded her of the son she had lost. With deliberately soft steps she entered the room, crossing through the shadows to where the lad slumbered. “Westing, Oi, Westing.” She whispered, shaking the boy’s shoulder as she dropped into a crouch at his side. “Mr. Chole?” The boy stirred in his chair; curl covered head rising to meet hers. Pink wrinkles from his torn slops were impressed on his cheeks. “Wot’s this now sir? Tha men said ye went off wif some dandy jest afor tha blow.” “Shh, don’t bother wif tha now lad.” She interrupted his questions with a hiss and a shake of her head. “Listen, tha Anna’s gone ta tha deep by all accounts. Ye’ll come wif me, right, ta La Maligna. ‘Er captains a good n’ fair man, nuthin like ‘ol Fulton. They’ll be needin tha ‘ands while she’s in tha yards n when she’s under sail agen. Ye’ll ‘ave plenty a work n a full belly fer once too.” She nodded at him, seeing his eyes light at the mere thought of a full meal. “But no more o that “Mr. Chole”. Tis Jane aye. Tha rest ye’ll hear in due time.” “Aye sir, err, Jane?” Westing furrowed his brow, obviously trying to make sense of what little he did know but wise enough not to ask. “Thars a lad.” Jane smiled, patting the boy on the back of his rail thin shoulder as she stood. He nodded back at her as he stretched his thin legs to the floor, the furrow still creasing his brow. Without another word the pair slipped through the quiet room towards the back door. They were only a few steps from the exit when a booming voice echoed over their heads, startling several of the sailors out of their sleep and freezing Jane in her steps. “’Ello now! Ef tisnt tha wanderin Chippy! Tryn ta slip out unbeknownst eh lad? Oh, naw, ye got tired o tha little game didnja?”

I'm currently researching both "Cherries in The Rise" and "Fhane Ripe Strawburries". For the cherries I have to figure out how they tied the darned things to the sticks. For the Strawberries I have to find lots of pottle's. At least June is a few months in the future & I've got time to decide.

I'll be at Port Washington in my average, 1690's glory. Sorry, can't call it slumming, for some of us a successful hawker is as fancy as we get.

^ if it's visible when the whole kit is on & you're standing at "speaking to me" range, then it's hand sewn, yes including all those boning channels on my stays. < I even hand wash with lye soap & hang out my kit to dry. It just doesn't seem right to machine wash with Tide after all the other work I put into it. V what little steps do you take for yourself that no one else will probably notice or care about?

n 'ere I thought literate was when yer bad n throw trash out the window. Currently reading: nothing! Tomorrow is library day again & I need to stock up. Reciently finished: Waugh's Cut of Women's Clothes, 1700; Scene's from London Life & Rudiments of Genteel Behavior.

Even "besotted" Mr. Hand thinks to use the word "besotted".

With enough rum, anythings funny. then again, can there ever be "enough" rum?

^ Top of my Inter-Library Loan list currently is "The amusements of old London : being a survey of the sports and pastimes, tea gardens and parks, playhouses and other diversions of the people of London from the 17th to the beginning of the 19th century" by William B. Boulton. < Between 2 local libraries, the college library & the ILL system, I can find any book for free. V How often do you visit your local library?

MR. HAND! Surely ye have me mistaken fer some other kind o gerl. Perhaps one that doesn't turn bright red at such a suggestion!

^ Reproductions of the Whydah shoe. :) < Shakes head, Nope no bugs in my ears. I just tend to think that everyone is capable of doing nearly everything for themselves if they really want to. Sadly not enough people want to & rely on others for things they could do themselves. They end up missing out on the feeling of real accomplishment you get by DIY. V what was the last thing you did for yourself that you felt really proud of?

nope. I should post a before & after pic. Nothing about my mundane self is period correct. Glasses, dreads, tattoos & piercings all disappear for my kit. I look like an entirely different person!