Post by Janice Olivia Monroe on Jan 24, 2010 15:00:18 GMT -6
January -1333
It was a crisp, clear but chill morning, in the first month of the year 1333. Dora Lynch was employed at the home of Janice, who was so kind as to allow Dorie the company of her little boys age 3 and 8, to live in her quarters here.
Dorie took her broom to the stairs to the street and flicked off the bits of road debris that foot tracks dragged on to the stone step surface. She had her pail and scrub brush ready to make them glistening clean, as she did each morning. Loomis stood in the doorway, thumb in his mouth and a printed story page from the gypsy in the other hand, reading.
"Loomis. Take yer thumb out of your face; tis too old you be for such a habit. Mistress Janice want to see a grown up boy; ye be three now. Act like it, sonny." She flicked a few drops from the clean scrub water at him,before she got down on her knees to do the step cleansing. "Read to me; I be too busy to do if for meself." Goodwife Lynch scrubbed the stairs with a vigor that did double duty, hiding the fact she was not able to learn reading at all. "I want to get the place sparkling for my lady." That Janice had been a good person to work for was the saving grace for the elderly mother. With husband Clovis gone a hunting in the far frozen north, life with Janice Viscreed became a true home for the three them; Dora, Loomis and the older boy, Liam.
"There was a fox and he saw a bunch of grapes in a tree, too high to reach." Loomis' childish voice read to his Mum, all the while he had to tuck his favorite thumb under one armpit to restrain him from that babyish habit he loved so.
"There, it be done." She gathered her tools of the trade and scurried to the kitchen hearth where there were scones and cooked cereal done for breakfast, steamy and fragrant enough to encourage any appetite. Where was Janice? Dora set the young lady's plate on a tray and looked tentatively into the hall. "Mistress? I got the breakfast ready. You be needing any help?"
Janice had found a companion in Dora on an evening in 1329 when she'd mentioned that her time with the Engineer was coming to an end. The woman was spunky, spirited, and a good heart in the home. Embarking out on her own in the year 1330, it was Dora she remembered whom sought a posistion for herself. It was Dora, who with wrapped feet and scones reminded Janice of the warm, caring presence of a woman whom had passed away to God's keeping.
Now, in 1333, the young Mistress Viscreed kept a home on Bryante Row of good repute. It was possessed of a lower parlor, kitchen, dining area, and study room. Upstairs there was a spacious room for Dora, a room for her sons, one for Janice, and one for guests totaling four. Of the shop itself, one would find it no less that two doors down from the residence. Surrounding them everyday were the likes of beauty and grace. Still, among that, work had to always be done.
"Good morning,Dora! I shall be there in but a moment I am finishing a passage in this book unto the paper.." Odd habits were had by all. For all of her sweet, gentle ways, for all of the piety, modesty, lack of vanity and manners, she was something of an insomniac some days. Candles no doubt had to be blown out and she had to be gently nudged to sleep in a bed, instead of at a table. "Just one more..aha!" To the table she arrived in the simplicity of her dress without the ornaments that would see her go outside. Hair left down, she smiled from one end of the all as she crossed to the other.
Her work with the engineer Aegraine gave Dora the right background for dealing with a young woman whose intellect had her simply boggled. Her own Ma always told her that females did not have the mind strong enough for reading or numbers. In fact, all the numbers Dorie knew were associated with coins at the marketplace and how to figure out baby due dates. She cleaned a room, replacing any documents at they had been, pens and ink she did not even touch. The odd hours she reasoned, where natural for a lady who could read.
"Ah, like me grown up daughter ye are to me Mistress Janice. I have the water warm for you to refresh your face before breakfast." It was said with love like a proud mother would have. If she could not be where Clovis was now, this was the best situation imaginable.
Dora accepted the oddity in Janice's nature without complaint. In return, Janice found that the old woman was not so old. Her wit was not so dry, nor were her children without their charms. Loomis was her shadow during the day when the sun stretched it long enough for him to stand in. "Loomis, what are you doing," she'd ask him, giggling as she crawled to the other side of his hovel in the shelves under the front counter, "what are you reading now, a penny paper? Tell it to me?" In the under-space they shared the events of the day or the fantastic realm of a child's fancy. Dragons were slain, maidens rescued. Aesop taught lessons of virtue in the guise of animals. Liam would pass through with tinder for the fires in the shop before heading back to the house. On an occasion when she could catch the older boy, she would spirit him down with them for a quick laugh. Janice had no siblings, so in the boys she knew what she did not have. Her mother was gone and Carlotta was dead. In Dora, she found the mother that had enough openness of mind to love her eecentric child, and enough heart to see her own was well kept.
"You spoil me, Dora. You don't have to go to such lengths" She went over to the warm water, cupping it in her hands to indulge in a ritual that took the dry feeling out of her eyes and perked up her skin. Did Dora ever put something in the water that made a maiden's skin glow? The young oft wonder what the old may know. A young woman found herself happy with the little make-shift family the four of them made. "Miss Dora, what know you of men, and how they think?"
It was a crisp, clear but chill morning, in the first month of the year 1333. Dora Lynch was employed at the home of Janice, who was so kind as to allow Dorie the company of her little boys age 3 and 8, to live in her quarters here.
Dorie took her broom to the stairs to the street and flicked off the bits of road debris that foot tracks dragged on to the stone step surface. She had her pail and scrub brush ready to make them glistening clean, as she did each morning. Loomis stood in the doorway, thumb in his mouth and a printed story page from the gypsy in the other hand, reading.
"Loomis. Take yer thumb out of your face; tis too old you be for such a habit. Mistress Janice want to see a grown up boy; ye be three now. Act like it, sonny." She flicked a few drops from the clean scrub water at him,before she got down on her knees to do the step cleansing. "Read to me; I be too busy to do if for meself." Goodwife Lynch scrubbed the stairs with a vigor that did double duty, hiding the fact she was not able to learn reading at all. "I want to get the place sparkling for my lady." That Janice had been a good person to work for was the saving grace for the elderly mother. With husband Clovis gone a hunting in the far frozen north, life with Janice Viscreed became a true home for the three them; Dora, Loomis and the older boy, Liam.
"There was a fox and he saw a bunch of grapes in a tree, too high to reach." Loomis' childish voice read to his Mum, all the while he had to tuck his favorite thumb under one armpit to restrain him from that babyish habit he loved so.
"There, it be done." She gathered her tools of the trade and scurried to the kitchen hearth where there were scones and cooked cereal done for breakfast, steamy and fragrant enough to encourage any appetite. Where was Janice? Dora set the young lady's plate on a tray and looked tentatively into the hall. "Mistress? I got the breakfast ready. You be needing any help?"
Janice had found a companion in Dora on an evening in 1329 when she'd mentioned that her time with the Engineer was coming to an end. The woman was spunky, spirited, and a good heart in the home. Embarking out on her own in the year 1330, it was Dora she remembered whom sought a posistion for herself. It was Dora, who with wrapped feet and scones reminded Janice of the warm, caring presence of a woman whom had passed away to God's keeping.
Now, in 1333, the young Mistress Viscreed kept a home on Bryante Row of good repute. It was possessed of a lower parlor, kitchen, dining area, and study room. Upstairs there was a spacious room for Dora, a room for her sons, one for Janice, and one for guests totaling four. Of the shop itself, one would find it no less that two doors down from the residence. Surrounding them everyday were the likes of beauty and grace. Still, among that, work had to always be done.
"Good morning,Dora! I shall be there in but a moment I am finishing a passage in this book unto the paper.." Odd habits were had by all. For all of her sweet, gentle ways, for all of the piety, modesty, lack of vanity and manners, she was something of an insomniac some days. Candles no doubt had to be blown out and she had to be gently nudged to sleep in a bed, instead of at a table. "Just one more..aha!" To the table she arrived in the simplicity of her dress without the ornaments that would see her go outside. Hair left down, she smiled from one end of the all as she crossed to the other.
Her work with the engineer Aegraine gave Dora the right background for dealing with a young woman whose intellect had her simply boggled. Her own Ma always told her that females did not have the mind strong enough for reading or numbers. In fact, all the numbers Dorie knew were associated with coins at the marketplace and how to figure out baby due dates. She cleaned a room, replacing any documents at they had been, pens and ink she did not even touch. The odd hours she reasoned, where natural for a lady who could read.
"Ah, like me grown up daughter ye are to me Mistress Janice. I have the water warm for you to refresh your face before breakfast." It was said with love like a proud mother would have. If she could not be where Clovis was now, this was the best situation imaginable.
Dora accepted the oddity in Janice's nature without complaint. In return, Janice found that the old woman was not so old. Her wit was not so dry, nor were her children without their charms. Loomis was her shadow during the day when the sun stretched it long enough for him to stand in. "Loomis, what are you doing," she'd ask him, giggling as she crawled to the other side of his hovel in the shelves under the front counter, "what are you reading now, a penny paper? Tell it to me?" In the under-space they shared the events of the day or the fantastic realm of a child's fancy. Dragons were slain, maidens rescued. Aesop taught lessons of virtue in the guise of animals. Liam would pass through with tinder for the fires in the shop before heading back to the house. On an occasion when she could catch the older boy, she would spirit him down with them for a quick laugh. Janice had no siblings, so in the boys she knew what she did not have. Her mother was gone and Carlotta was dead. In Dora, she found the mother that had enough openness of mind to love her eecentric child, and enough heart to see her own was well kept.
"You spoil me, Dora. You don't have to go to such lengths" She went over to the warm water, cupping it in her hands to indulge in a ritual that took the dry feeling out of her eyes and perked up her skin. Did Dora ever put something in the water that made a maiden's skin glow? The young oft wonder what the old may know. A young woman found herself happy with the little make-shift family the four of them made. "Miss Dora, what know you of men, and how they think?"
