#first time in tree years I get there in time for the chocolate covered marzipan

[miaowmelodie]

Me : *Happily shopping for Halloween foods*

*A wild aisle of Christmas treats appears*

Me : "Hell no, it's not even Halloween yet!!!"

The Xmas treats : "We have chocolate covered marzipan and mini pandoros"

Me : ...

The Xmas treats : ...

Me : ... don't take more aisles

[lire-casander]

decorations of red on a green christmas tree

[1,324 words] [general audiences] [beta’ed by @meloingly. any remaining mistakes are my own] [title from blue christmas, hanson’s version]  [tk strand, carlos reyes] [fluff, stress baking]  [written for @buckieys 12 days of tarlos 2020, day 9: stress baking]

[tk comes back home to a sight he wasn’t expecting]

decorations of red on a green christmas tree

TK thanks his Uber driver before opening the door of the car and stepping outside, grabbing his duffel bag and the plastic bag where he’s placed the cake box he’s picked up from Nothing Bundt Cakes as a surprise for Carlos. They’ve been too busy to see each other as much as they would have loved to the past week — the days leading up to the holidays are always the most hectic of the whole year, with the honorable exception of full moon nights. He wants to surprise his boyfriend on their last night alone before both their families come barging in for Christmas Eve — they will be spending the night at his dad’s, exchanging gifts with his mom, and then they will be heading out to San Antonio to spend Christmas Day with Carlos’ family.

TK can’t say he isn’t nervous about that last bit, maybe more than he is when he thinks of his mom and his dad under the same roof for two whole days — his mom will be flying out to New York on Boxing Day to get ready for some case or the other, always the busiest lawyer in the city. But he’s going to officially meet all of Carlos’ family at once on Christmas Day, and TK doesn’t know how that will go. Sure, he’s met them in bits and pieces before — Carlos’ mother Irene when she came down to take care of Carlos after the accident where he broke his arm, and Carlos’ sister Laura when she had to make a stop-over on her way back to Atlanta. But TK hasn’t spent that much time with them, and he’s yet to meet Carlos’ father. It’s not that he can’t handle meeting the in-laws, which he has done his fair share of times before — but it’s the first time he feels that creating a good impression is important. Because Carlos is the most important person in his life, and TK wants Carlos’ family to accept him, with his flaws and his sins, even though he knows that’s nearly impossible. It hasn’t happened before, with anyone. But then again, he has never met anyone like Carlos Reyes before.

He’s never felt a love so immense like he does for Carlos.

He opens the door to their apartment with his free hand, and the first thing he notices is the smell — sweet and savory, something that reminds him of his childhood spent in between Christmas cookies and marzipan. He smiles. “Carlos!” he calls out, balancing the cake box in his hand in order for it not to fall over. “I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” he hears back, and there he heads, chuckling because Carlos really needed to reassure him of his whereabouts as though the smell alone hadn’t given it away. He saunters happily, cake box in hand, ready to put it in the fridge and order some Indian just like they planned so many days ago.

“What are you making? It smells delicious!” he says as he steps into the kitchen, only to be met with a sight that he hadn’t been expecting.

Carlos is standing next to the kitchen island, completely covered in flour and what looks like dough on his cheek, kneading something with his eyebrows knitted together as he works. All the countertops around the kitchen look like Christmas has already exploded on them — there are oven trays full of cookies, and TK can spy some apple pies and a couple of trays full to the brim of cupcakes. There’s even one bar of what looks like homemade chocolate nougat that TK can’t keep his eyes off.

“Sweetie?” he says in a tentative voice. “What’s all this?”

“I, ahm, I’ve been baking,” Carlos replies, slightly shrugging his right shoulder as he keeps on kneading. “Now I’m making a gingerbread house.”

TK carefully places the cake box he’s brought home on a clear spot on one of the counters before he comes to stand at the other end of the kitchen island, somewhat in front of Carlos. He’s actually working on what looks like a gingerbread house — he already has three out of four walls spread on an oven plate, and the ingredients to decorate the roof are already on a different tray.

“That much I can see,” he says, smiling as he leans in to drop a kiss on Carlos’ rebel curls falling onto his forehead. “But, honey—” He trails off as he brushes a couple of curls away from Carlos’ line of sight.

“Yeah?”

“How many of these have you made?” TK asks in a high-pitch squeal, gesturing around them to the place overflowing with baked goods. “Why have you even made five full trays of Christmas cookies?”

“I don’t know, I got a bit carried away baking for tomorrow,” Carlos tells him, lifting his gaze to look around him. He blushes when he takes in the sheer number of trays around, but he frowns at the Nothing Bundt Cake box. “What’s that?”

“That’s a surprise I got you,” TK explains. “But that doesn’t answer my question. You’ve made enough food to last us a whole year!” Carlos looks down and mumbles something that TK doesn’t catch. “Care to repeat that?”

“I said, I didn’t know what your mom would like so I made a bit of everything. I wanted to impress her.”

“First, this isn’t a bit of everything, this is the whole bakery home! And second, my mom’s already impressed by you. Please don’t tell me you’ve baked every single Christmas dessert recipe you know because you were stressed about having Christmas Eve dinner with my parents.” When Carlos doesn’t say anything in reply, just looks down and keeps kneading the dough, TK chuckles. “You already know my mom! And you work with my dad on a daily basis!”

“I don’t know your mom. She came down after you were shot for a week to take care of you, so that doesn’t count! We didn’t even live together back then!”

Before TK can retaliate, the oven timer goes off with a loud beeping sound. Carlos tries to get away but TK beats him to it and reaches the oven in time to lean in and peer through the window. “Is that roscón?” TK marvels. “Carlos Reyes, have you made roscón for my parents? That takes five hours at least!”

Carlos blushes even more violently than before. “Don’t say it like that,” he mumbles. “I just want this Christmas to be perfect.”

TK takes pity on his boyfriend and hugs him before he can get to the roscón in the oven. He hadn’t realized how stressed Carlos had been about the whole ordeal of spending Christmas with TK’s family, and it makes him feel a little bit less awkward about the dozen gifts he’s wrapped and packed already for Carlos’ family. “Carlos, don’t stress about it. They already love you. They will absolutely adore you after this, mom has a sweet tooth that not even I can rival! And,” he adds conspiratorially, “you’re not the only one stressed about this. I’ve stress-bought all your family’s Christmas gifts, and now I have about three different options for each one of you when I know we said only one but—”

Carlos silences him with a kiss. “I guess we’ve both been a bit nervous about this,” he confesses with a low chuckle. TK nods and kisses him again.

“What are we going to do with all these pastries?”

Carlos laughs again, kissing the top of TK’s nose. “We’ll eat them, tomorrow. But for now, I need to get that roscón out before it gets too crusty.”

TK squeezes him tightly before he lets go of Carlos, sighing and leaning against the counter as he watches his boyfriend work around the kitchen. Now, he has the feeling that this will be the merriest Christmas so far, if only because he gets to spend it with Carlos Reyes.

fun facts about writing this fic!

* the cake tk brings home comes from the real nothing bundt cakes in austin!

* a roscón de reyes is a spanish typical sweet for three wise men day, and i wanted to bring something from my own culture into this fic so bad, i made it happen!

[themousefromfantasyland]

The Yule Man (1/7)

As told by ME

This was meant to be a short story, but it became too big, so I separated it in seven parts. I want to turn my blog in a space where I can share my writting every once and a while.

This is the first time I post one of my stories on a public space. This is the first time anyone besides my sister will be able to read, so I'm pretty exciting and anxious. I want honest criticism. I hope you all enjoy it.

"It's he who brings the Yule ice and snow to Arnsberg." The little girl said.

Everything seemed somehow brighter and warmer on that peaceful afternoon.

The lines of holly hanged above the walls and windows gave an otherworld feel to the street. The jingle of the bells of the market down the avenue helped to remind how happiness sounded like. Silver bells adorned the rooftops. The traditional statues of silver stood on the churches’ terrains.

They promised that the Silver God would once again bless his holy season. The store windows promised an affable and cozy night. That was not what that beggar boy received.

The confectionery attendant shoved him away with all scorn and disdain possible in a man. Why did he should show him kindness? The boy couldn't pay, and he was so filthy dressed he would drive customers away. And as he said beneath his breath while coming back to the store:

"Magic only brings trouble."

Mia Hayek and her baby sister were stepping in their carriage when they saw the scene. The poor young man looked at the sweets in the windows of the confectionery with so much craving. He looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in a long time.

She took out her long wide hat and her cotton scarf and asked her sister if she knew that boy. The little girl, with all sincerity that a child is capable off, responded.

He had a slender and thin body, but the enormous, hooded fur coat worn swallowed it completely. He carried a huge bag of shabby cloth against his back. The fur hood and the cloth around his lower face made it hard to give him an age. Mia was sure he couldn't be older than twenty.

Everyone in Arnsberg knew the boy. Always seen wandering without destination in the Solstice Eve carrying that stained bag. He arrives in town no sooner than the first snow. He stays for the twelve days of the Yule Festival, then he disappears. And no one can find him before the next one.

Mia saw him in the last year. He lived near the park in front of the bakery. The baker shoved him away as if he was a stray dog. He has not changed a thing from then.

"He never changes." Sophia mindlessly added. "Even mother remembers him from her time. He never changes."

Mia stared at the boy. Ragged and disheveled. Time had devoured those clothes, tattered and grimy as they looked.

"Is he magical?" Mia asked.

"Yeah!" Her little sister nodded. "But he can only bring the snow, he can't control it. He's harmless."

"Stay here!" She told her.

Mia stepped out of the carriage and walked in the direction of the boy as fast as her boots allowed. Noticing being followed, he turned. She stopped in the spot.

The hood obscured his face. He maintained his back bended, and he avoided looking into her eyes. By the way he stayed quiet, she knew he was nervous. People dressed like her usually didn't had nice things to say to people dressed like him.

"You're beautiful!" He whispered to himself, hoping only he listened.

She smiled back.

"Thank you!"

She heard and he could only blush in response.

"Sorry, but I always see you around here during this time." She began saying while messing with her curly hair. "The town can get pretty cold. Do you have where to pass the night."

The boy chuckled, and she could see a vague spark in his eyes.

"The cold never bothered me anyway, madam."

"What do you carry with you?" She came forward and touched his long bag. It felt so freezing that she immediately withdrew as by sheer impulse.

He lowered the cloth that covered his face and looked up to her, allowing Mia to take a deep look.

"I... I should already release this thing, but... I got distracted. I wanted to find something to eat first, so..." He sounded so nervous, trying so hard to justify himself, as if fearing punishment.

His face was pale and soft, still with signs of boyhood. His eyes were big and innocent, in bright green. His beard was as red as a fox, and it was shaggy and full of pieces of ice.

"...and now I don't know where to release this stuff."

"Do you have where to spend the holidays?" She interrupted him.

"No." He answered embarrassed.

The question really pierced through him. She saw how it affected him in the wrong way. A second question slipped through her mouth before she could have time to re-evaluate it.

"Do you found somewhere to eat?"

He didn't respond.

She drew his hands, letting his bag land on the ground. It surprised her how soft and warm they were.

"Stay the Yule with us."

Mia could just have brought him food and then forget anything about him in the next day. Any normal person would do that. Maybe she felt a genuine urge to help him. Maybe her pity for him spoke louder. Perhaps she found him too adorable to let go. Whatever the real reason may be, something drew her to him.

"My father is wealthy, but generous. I'm sure he'll allowed it."

He smiled to her by a second, as if he loved the idea, but then he frowned, as if he remembered something.

"I'm sorry. You have been very kind, but I can't."

"Please!" She insisted, her voice cracking a little. "You can't spend the Yule in the streets and in the cold."

""I already used to it."

He forced a sly grin, as if trying to tranquilize her. He continued. "I'm sure you mean well, but it's better that I stay here."

"Our mansion is always open to those who need it, and you'll be well treated there."

"A mansion?" He frowned.

"My father is Mr. Hayek. My name is Mia Angela Hayek. Ravi de vous rencontrer." She greeted him with the dress.

"Never heard of him." He joked.

"Please, stay with us. We...

"Is it comfy..."

"What?" She asked surprised.

He spoke in a tone that made her think of a timid small boy.

"Your mansion. Is it comfy and cozy? That's how I always picture these places to be." He didn't want her to see he smiled.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"Yes. You can drink hot cocoa by it and eat some gingerbread cookies if you want."

"I never eat a gingerbread cookie."

"You can eat all sweets you wish. The kitchen has smelled wonderful since morning. My father is giving a big ball tonight. It will be so full of cakes and sweets. It will make even the most illustrious confectioneries envious."

Mia saw how much the idea pleased him, how much it tempted him to say yes. Yet, something held him back.

Against his better judgment, he said:

"Okay."

The air grew colder on that moment. The winter breeze brought chills down her spine. Whatever it was, the boy felt it too.

"But just for one night." He soon added.

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one." He said while pulling back his bag.

She tilted her head.

"How come you have no name?"

"Never needed one."

James Hayek had all the reasons to be jolly during the holidays. This son of immigrants became the most important merchant in all the North Kingdom. The Hayeks were the wealthiest mixed family in Arnsberg. This filled him with pride, but also a deep sentiment of duty. As a child of Arnsberg by heart he felt as his duty to retribute all his good luck back to the community.

The Hayek Mansion was a charming building located near the road down to Arnsberg, far close to the forest. Mr. Hayek certified himself that its doors would be forever open to the town that welcomed him.

It was the Solstice Eve. Tomorrow the Yule Festival would begin, twelve days of tradition and merriment. A gigantic fir-tree of nine meters was brought to the mansion's courtyard. The servants of the Hayek family surrounded its needles with all sorts of ornaments. They garnished the Yule Tree with silver, gold, and all kinds of jewelry. On its top, the Solstice Sun ornament promised to shine brighter than the real one. Not even Queen Ava's tree in the Royal Palace was as beautiful as the one who stood now in the Hayek Mansion.

Dozens of statues of goats surrounded the tree, all carefully made of pure straw. A somewhat forgotten tradition that Mr. Hayek couldn't let go in any capacity.

Two full tables had been already set. Roast turkeys and ducks, steamed hams and caramelized cods covered the first table.

The second table looked like a small child's fever dream. Colorful palaces of gelatin and chocolate sprinkled with sugar. Snowy towns and castles of gingerbread covered with white marzipan. Fountains and rivers flowing with chocolate. Towers of cakes and pies. Mountain chains of pudding with nuts and chestnuts boulders. It had enough to maddening the youth.

When Mia and Sophia arrived at the Hayek residence, the Yule Log had been already tossed into the fire. Both her and her sister helped the fur-cladded boy stepped out of the carriage. No sooner they crossed the golden gates, the servants already whispered between themselves. They couldn't help but gaze at the peculiar young man with awe and curiosity.

As soon as the girls walked upon the carpet in the living room, their parents rushed to speak to them. When Mr. Hayek first heard the news, he had to come to see it by himself.

"You brought the Yule Man?" He gave a strong laughter that came straight from the bottom of his belly.

The boy didn't know how to react, so he stepped behind the sisters and gave him an awkward smile.

Mr. Hayek was a cheerful and youthful old man. Mrs. Hayek could be the proudest woman the world has ever seen. She fitted the role of the women who dressed to show the world her social status. Her blue eyes had troubles showing affection. Her corn-like hair was stylized in the same way as the fashion magazines. Meticulously armed.

She approached Mia to talk in particular.

"You should be getting dressed." She spoke with veiled bitterness.

Mia tried her best to argue back.

"Sorry mother, I was doing shopping when..."

Her mother definitely didn't want to know. She twisted her eyebrows and said:

"Why are you so irresponsible. I'm tired of sorries. And what are you wearing for the gods' sake" She started yelling.

Mia swallowed her mother's sermons with her best poker face. Since she was a child, she knew how harsh Mrs. Hayek's criticism could be. Nothing different from the woman that searched for defects in everything.

"You know how this night is important. It's your first ball. My daughter shouldn't look like a hag." She took a pause to breath. "Go get dressed!"

Sophia came forward.

"Can the Yule Man spend the Yule with us?" She asked with manipulative eyes.

"You can't bring him here." She whispered while offering a false smile to greet the newcomer boy.

Fritz and Thomas, Sophia's elder brothers, looked at him with intense curiosity.

"Magic always leads to trouble." She put.

"Mother, he needs us." Mia shot back. "Besides not aging, there's not that much he can do. He is harmless."

"Mia, can you stop arguing..." Her mother tried to shut her down as she always did.

Mia had other plans.

"Father..." She turned to Mr. Hayek. "This is the true Yule Man. You can show him to the town's children tonight.

"I like children." His tiny voiced ricocheted off the living room walls. They turned to face him.

"They are nice to me." He said in a small tone behind them.

They almost had forgot he was still there.

"My dear, I don't know..." Mr. Hayek gazed at his unhappy wife.

"Remember when you were young and poor, and they chased you off that department store." She pointed to the boy. “They shoved him out of the confectionery as if he were nothing. He doesn't have where to spend the Yule days. He never had."

Mr. Hayek grew quiet. Not everyone had been nice to him. The way he looked had closed a lot of doors before. He promised to never take part in any judgment by appearances.

"You win." He winked at her. "Okay. Welcome to our Yule party Mr. Yule Man.

The boy looked at Mrs. Hayek. He saw her eyes steaming.

The guest started appearing around the evening. The parties in the Hayek Mansion always yielded weeks of conversation and gossip. They were more accessible than official public events. Open to everyone who wanted to participate. Thanks to that Mr. Hayek received the charming nickname of the "Father of the Poor." from his enemies. He liked it.

In her bedchamber, Mia wore a ballgown that had the color of the winter night sky. A low busted and short sleeved gown that drew attention to her silhouette. It was richly embroidered with snowflake patterns that surrounded her skirt. A delicate bow tied her curly brown hair back, drawing attention to her delicate face. Her strong red lipstick contrasted quite well with her light-brown skin tone.

When she went down the staircase. She gasped at how beautiful her house looked. Decks of holly, ivy and winter roses scattered everywhere. When the Yule Man saw her, he gasped at how beautiful she looked. He raced to her, still with his bag.

"Why are you still wearing this thing?" She pressed her lips together. She sounded just as her mother.

"Sorry If I was too rude. Do you like it?"

"No. No. I don't like this thing at all." He chuckled while eating a huge piece of marzipan with his free hand.

"So, why do you wear it?"

"As if I had a choice." He smirked.

He had finished his attack on the table of sweets. His mouth still was stained with sugar and chocolate. She noticed he had pockets in his suit, because they were full of gingerbread cookies and pieces of cake. The corners of her mouth lifted a smile as soon as she realized it.

When they arrived at the courtyard, the guests already crowded the place. The music had begun. The youthful couples already waltzed together amid the chatter of their families. That scene never failed to fill Mia's eyes, and now she could be officially a part of it. Her first ball as a woman.

She saw her mother approaching.

"What are you wearing." She yelled in her lowest tone.

Mia stood in her defensive position.

"Mother, you promised I could pick my own dress."

Mrs. Hayek exhaled.

"Yeah, I did. You look beautiful."

Mia smiled in relief.

"You too mother."

"You look perfect, and it's Yule, but don't exaggerate on the food." She laughed. "You know how the woman in our family have problems with weight."

Mia forced a yellow smile as a good daughter. As soon as her mother departed, the boy tried to cheer her.

"That was close. You survived the attack of the amazing shrew. Good job."

Mia laughed out loud. He felt proud with himself.

The children on the place couldn't stop looking at him with amazement. She turned to him.

"You don't really have a name?"

His smile disappeared.

"No."

He tried to physically walk out of that social interaction. She followed him.

"Do you at least have parents or relatives?"

He spent a couple seconds thinking.

"I don't know. I believe that I don't."

"Where you go when you aren't in Arnsberg? Do you visit other cities?"

"I prefer not to think about that." He said as politely as he could.

"Can I ask about the bag?" She joked.

He handled the bag over to the other hand.

"Nope!"

He really didn't like the direction of that conversation.

"Can I least ask you about the beard? Do you like it?"

He stopped. He looked at her.

"Not even a little." He laughed. "It's shaggy, it scratches, and it annoys me so much."

"Why you don't shave it?"

"As if I had a choice."

That was getting on her nerves.

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?"

He looked deep into her eyes.

"Because only real people have a choice."

On that same moment, a man wearing a red fur cloak and carrying a sack full of toys and stepped out of the servant’s door. The children gasped and cheered his presence and rushed in his direction. The adults were left amazed. Santa Claus had arrived. By his side, a very tall man came closer, wearing a wooden goat mask and wearing a very thick coat. On his hand he carried birch branches. The children surrounded them in seconds. The Goat-masked man asked in his spookiest voice if they had been nice or naughty that year. Santa had already start delivering the presents to all the children.

Mia nudged him.

"It's my father. He lives by the Yule Festival." She boasted. "He loves to dress like Santa. He's the only black St. Nick in the town."

"I find funny how you always seem to agree that he's an old fat man in red."

He left her confused.

"Excuse me."

"St. Nicholas is way younger than that. And he drinks." He chuckled. "A lot."

She tilted her head and frowned.

"How can you tell? No one can see him."

He stayed quiet.

"Do you know the real Santa?"

He broke the silence.

"He's a good man. He's nice to me. The Yule Goat is bad. He's very bad. He beats children."

He nodded to the goat masked man. Mia saw that it unsettled him a bit.

"Calm down. It's just Edgar, our butler. He likes to scare kids, so every year he dresses like the Yule Goat."

All the kids after receiving their presents ran to his side. Mr. Hayek as the jolly saint came closer to Mia at said in direction of the young man:

"This man..." He certified himself to be heard by everyone. "...is the Yule Man. Today he will show us the magic of the Yuletide season."

The crowd turned and stared at him in intensity. The typical hypocrisy of mortals: They fear magic but can't lose a chance to see it close. The boy himself stayed quiet as a mouse in his spot.

Mia asked in his ear:

"Crowds make you nervous"

"Yep" He almost couldn't be heard.

"I realized."

He walked to the center of the courtyard without saying no more words. Near the fir-tree he tossed his bag on the ground. Mia attended all that closely.

He pulled the knot that tighten the bag closed and opened it. A single snowflake came out first. It flew like a white butterfly in the direction of the wind. Calm, gentle, beautiful. It shimmered like nothing else. Some of the children ran after it and tried to catch. A second came out, and third, and a fourth. The snowflakes then burst out of the bag, billions of them. Small bright crystals that looked more like pixie dust.

He opened his arms and allowed the endless wave of light blast off and fill the skies. The crowd clapped and cheered in a mad frenzy. Mr. Hayek couldn't believe his eyes.

Mia stood there, speechless. The sight took all her ability to think properly.

The Yule Man closed his eyes. He shook both hands together as quick as he could. The bright outburst ceased. The bag dissolved in icicles. As if the world's largest swarm, they dashed up, up into the sky, while the snow started to fall.

He turned back to them.

"And this...This is how the Yule snow comes to Arnsberg."

The crowd clapped in pure ecstasy. He exhaled relieved.

The kids chased him. The adults had troubles understanding what happened. Mia stayed quiet in her thoughts processing everything.

The north wind blew over them all. The boy felt the message sent to him down to his bones. A dark figure appeared in the corner. He knew there were consequences to be dealt with.

Mia searched for him when he appeared and shook her hand.

"I'm grateful for everything..." He started. "... but St. Nicholas saw me. I already violated too many rules."

And he ran away.

"What!"

She stayed behind, left speechless again.

Mia marched to her parents close to the mansion's entrance.

"Father, what did you said to him?"

She took Mr. Hayek by surprise.

"Nothing, I..."

Sophia stopped playing with the other girls and their new toys and walked to them.

"It was not him. It was the real Santa.

"Hey!" His heart broke. He said visibly offended. "How long do you know I am not..."

Mia interrupted him.

"Sophia, why are you talking about?"

"St. Nicholas came here to talk to him."

"How I didn't see him?"

She responded with such innocence that terrified Mia.

"He's invisible to you."

Mia rushed back inside and searched for him everywhere. She found him when he was getting nearer the front gate.

"Why did you leave?" She approached him behind pulled him by the arm. You said you would spend the night here."

"I can't. I simply can't. St. Nicholas talked to me...

"Santa? Santa threatened you?"

"No. St. Nicholas is nice to me." He argued. "Only a few like him are. The North Wind brought him here. He told him how I was breaking the rules. Different from him, I can be seen by mortals. He thinks it's not wise for me to get too close to them, to you."

He paused as soon as he realized how that sentence could be interpreted.

"To you guys, the mortals, your family." The awkwardness possessed his body.

Her forehead furrowed while pressing her lips together.

"What are the rules?"

He scratched his head and lowered it down.

"I arrive to Arnsberg by the first light of the Solstice Eve. I must leave before the first light after the Yule days are over."

Her expression lightened.

"So, you can spend the festival with us."

"Do you even listen to me?" He cried out loud.

She placed her hands over his shoulder.

"Listen, you will not violate any rules. As long as you left..." She gesticulated for him to continue it.

"Before the first light after the Yule days are over." He added.

"I know you liked here. So, what do you say.”?

"Mia, I can't."

She raised her voice.

"So, they want you to spend the holidays in the street?"

"I don't have a choice." His jaw clenched and he shut his eyes.

She drew him closer.

"Yeah, you do."

That simple phrase teared down his walls. He no longer felt the ground under his feet. His eyes teared up.

"Do you really believe that." He said in a cry voice.

She struggled to look him in the eyes now.

"I do." She smiled to him.

He closed his eyes.

"Okay, I will spend the Yule Festival with you."

He heard the wind blowing outside. A very bad omen indeed. For some Mia sensed butterflies on her stomach. She felt a sweet taste in her mouth. Something sweet and warm inside her chest.

"Okay, I will ask Edgar to lead you to the Guest room."

He shook his head.

"It isn't necessary. I hate giving people trouble. I can sleep anywhere."

She raised her eyebrows.

"But you need a name. Can I call you Christopher? I always found a beautiful name."

"Yeah, you can." His eyes twinkled while the corners of his mouth quickly turned up.

She stepped closer.

"Happy Yuletide, Chris!"

[qttnmrk]

“The light range was so narrow if you exposed film for a white kid, the black kid sitting next to him would be rendered invisible except for the whites of his eyes and teeth. It was only when Kodak’s two biggest clients—the confectionary and furniture industries— complained that dark chocolate and dark furniture were losing out that it came up with a solution.” —Broomberg and Chanarin “When a contradiction is impossible to resolve except by a lie, then we know it is really a door.” —Simone Weil I keep referring to the cold, as if that were the point. Fact. Not point. Forty-below was a good day. “In short, fine weather,” you wrote once, before cutting out blocks of ice and fashioning another igloo for the whole crew each night. But it isn’t the point, that it was cold, is it? How many days before arriving did you sit on the deck in that chair, staring out to sea, wearing a coarse blue shirt, the lost, well-mannered rhetoric of your day spiraling beneath a blue hat—concertina (at your ankle) outside the placid frame? Thank you, whoever you are, for standing behind the camera and thinking “Matthew Henson” and “photograph” at the same time. * The unanticipated shock: so much believed to be white is actually—strikingly—blue. Endless blueness. White is blue. An ocean wave freezes in place. Blue. Whole glaciers, large as Ohio, floating masses of static water. All of them pale frosted azuls. It makes me wonder—yet again—was there ever such a thing as whiteness? I am beginning to grow suspicious. An open window. I am blue. I am a frozen blue ocean. I am a wave struck cold in midair. The wave is nude beneath her blue dress. Her skin is blue. * To arrive in a place. And this place in which you have arrived finally: a place you have always dreamt of arriving. Perhaps you have tried—for eighteen years—to get there, dreaming of landscapes, people, food. Always repulsed by your effort, unable to attain the trophy. And then finally somehow you arrive one day and are immediately stunned because you realize more than anything, it isn’t the landscape, food, the people. That thing which most astonishes you is the light, the way the air appears, how the sunlight hovers just before your eyes. And you—then—wanting nothing more than to spend the day indoors watching the room. The vast ocean always nothing more than an open window. So you stay inside and choose to watch the same wall turn fifty reds, then later: slow, countless variations of blue. Blues you have never seen. There is a black beam overhead on the ceiling. Without it, the ability to see such light would disappear. The light is toying with you, and you like it. All of this because the darkness is now always overhead. That. That is what arriving means. * I want to say the same thing in a variety of different ways. Or I want to say many different things, but merely one way. Perhaps there is only one word after all. Beneath all languages, beneath all other words: only one. Perhaps whenever we speak we are repeating it. All day long, the same single word over and over again. * Choose something dark. Choose a dark line to hang above you. If you want to see what light can do, always choose the dark. * Out on the ice, the light can blind you. The annals laced with men who set out without the protection of darkness. All finished blind. Blackbirds, black bowhead whales, the raven, the night sky, the body inside, blue ink, pencil lead, chocolate, marzipan. Like us. All water is color. But what does that have to do with you and me, Matthew? * Maybe life is just this: walking with each other from one dark room to another. And looking. Sometimes the paintings come to life. Sometimes you just love the word pewter. Sometimes the ocean waves at you. Sometimes there are goldfish in a jar. A bowl of oranges. Sometimes a woman steps down out of a frame and walks toward you. Sometimes she discards the white scarf, which covers her, and reveals her real body. Sometimes she leaves, moments later, covered in a striped jacket and leather hat. Our lady of the dressing table. Our lady of the rainy day. Our lady of palm leaves, periwinkle, calla lilies. Our lady of acanthus. A garden redone three times. * Sometimes someone you love just falls through. Gone. The blue massive ridges of pressure shift, float away, move. Sometimes the ice breaks open. That’s it. Sledge, dogs and all. * I fell through once. I’d grown cold, so I stood up and walked to get my coat. I was told it was hanging on the far wall of a very dark room. Because it was dark, I could see, really see—for the first time—how a particular gold thread sparkled on the collar. I reached out my hand. But before the wall, there was a large hole where stairs were being built, which I could not see. I walked into air and landed on my head. Underground. Everything then turned a vivid black. * I wonder, Matthew, when you were out on the ice for years, trying very hard not to fall through, I wonder whether—like me—you ever thought of the same woman over and over again, whether you ever imagined her draped in a loose-fitting emerald robe, seated in a pink velvet chair, engulfed by a black so bright it was luminous? I do. Sometimes I lie here in bed before the fire, unable to move—this cane, this hideous cane, this glorious cane, cutting cane—and imagine that one particular curl falling forward toward her forehead. I imagine the same curl at this angle, then that. A recurring dream. When my bed becomes a vast field of frozen ice the color of indigo, and I cannot move, I begin to see her face. Each strand of her hair becomes a radiant small flame, twisting and burning so quietly. Then I look at your picture, you out on the ice, and I wonder if you ever feel like that, Matthew? Like a woman, faceless and flung over a desk, at rest or in tears, exquisite quickly drawn ruffles about your shoulder, halos of wide banana leaves hovering just above your head? Were there images you could not fling from your mind? Events that clung to you, coated you, repeating themselves in a series: movements or instruments in a symphony? Objects that would not let you go: an avocado tree; a certain street at night where someone exceptionally kind once took your arm as the two of you walked along a wet sidewalk; trying to remember the light on that certain gait: your mother twirling a parasol, also walking through a grove of olive trees? Did you begin to find comfort in the serial, the inexplicable and constant reappearance of things, people, sensations, every moment symphonically realized and reentered. The way the days begin to rhyme. Every moment walking into the room again. Sledge after sledge. Matthew? * I fell through, into a hole in the floor. I landed far below, on my head. Sometimes I still forget my name. Sometimes I forget yours. Sometimes I forget how to spell the. Regularly I am unable to remember Adam Clayton Powell. Or how to conjugate exist. Sometimes I lie in bed and cannot feel my legs. It’s like something quietly gnawed them off while I was in the kitchen making tea. From the knees down: this odd sensation, not nothing, but something, just not legs. If ice were not cold perhaps. Or the memory of a leg. I cannot feel my legs, but I can feel their memory. In conversation, my face goes numb. It starts at my mouth and spreads out. When I am quiet it recedes. Why is numbness ascribed the color blue? It’s not. It’s red. By the end of the day, my left hand has disappeared from the end of my arm. I ignore it. Hold my pen. Smile at you. What year is it, darling? I once lived where? With whom? Where is she now? What was her name? * I remember nurses. Their faces. Someone very, very kind—a woman—began to tape a pen inside my hand. I remember being suspended in a harness. Being lowered down into a warm blue pool. All the other patients there were very old. Here is how we all learned to walk properly again. Underwater. Blue. Once I fell through—into the dark. * Braces and casts. Being told not to write. Being told not to read. Forgetting someone I once promised I would never forget. Remembering her finally, one year, then forgetting her again, the next day. Remembering not remembering I’d forgotten. Forgetting them completely. * When I look at photographs of Matisse, unable to walk, drawing on the wall from the bed, his charcoal tied to the end of a very long pole, I stop breathing. Him, I think. Yes. I could marry him. I could slip into his bed. We could talk about real things. I could be his dark line hovering above. We could watch the light turning the room every color.

Robin Coste Lewis, “Using Black to Paint Light: Walking Through a Matisse Exhibit Thinking about the Arctic and Matthew Henson”

[frostmarris]

Search Lights

[Chapter One]

[next]

summary: The locals are strange and there’s something about the lake that just does not sit right with her. Odd shapes caught in photos and eyes under the water - Sakura isn’t so sure she wants to get to the bottom of this mystery.

pairings: KisaSaku, ChojuSaku, SuiSaku, possible? ZabuSaku, and some platonic HakuSaku. maybe some others by the end.

notes: a small spooky fic im doing for halloween, featuring some kiri boys and sakuraaaa. hope you enjoy!

“And you’re sure none of the neighbors are secretly axe murderers, one wrong word away from chopping me up and using the bits for fish bait?”

A pause.

“It’s a left onto Greengrove, right?” Sakura frowned at her windshield, squinting at an upcoming sign and waited for a reply. She nudged her scarf down slightly and pursed her lips, resisting the urge to tap her phone screen and make sure the call hadn’t ended.

“Well, Zabuza has definitely killed a man, but I can’t vouch for the others. And, yes, a left onto Greengrove.”

“Hakuuu!” She could hear his laugh through the speakers of her car and she shot a glare down at her cell, groaning under her breath while she could practically hear the amused smile in his voice. “I’m being serious, Haku. If I get murdered, my death is on your hands.”

She’d been driving for a little over three and a half hours, the city and her cozy apartment far behind as she traveled deeper into the countryside and into the woods. The sun was high in the sky by now, the rays breaking through the canopy overhead and dotting her path with pretty beams, but each glimpse of the sky she spotted was marbled with the bleak colors of a November chill. The road she was following was fairly well-maintained and the small town she’d passed through only about ten minutes ago, before entering the forest proper, had seemed relatively pleasant enough, but it had been nearly a year since her last visit to Haku’s lakehouse and she still insisted that the location was spooky.

Lake Kiri, oh so appropriately named, was perpetually shrouded in mist and fog, rarely clearing even in the middle of summer, and she was not looking forward to housesitting the lakeside home for three weeks. But, she owed her friend a favor and the location could provide some nice shots for her portfolio.

Adjusting the heater, Sakura turned onto the next road and allowed her frown to deepen, imagining the pretty young man’s amused face clearly in her mind.

“I’m just joking, Sakura; don’t worry.” He gave another muffled chuckle at her derisive snort and continued. “Zabuza is ex-military and my other neighbor is a police officer. Even if a serial killer were to pop up on the lake, you’d be perfectly safe.”

She held back her mumble of “I bet the cop thing is just an act and they keep their victims in their basement,” and sighed, continuing down the road until it branched again. Flicking on her blinker on reflex, Sakura turned right onto a well-tread rocky road and took a sip of lukewarm coffee from her thermos.

“Fine, but I’m not socializing with the locals.”

“Aw,” Came Haku’s equally pretty voice, “I’m sure you’ll like Zabuza well enough when you meet him. He’s supposed to drop off a- Oh!”

She glanced down at her phone when he cut himself off suddenly, both wondering what had caught his attention and what he’d meant by meeting one of his neighbors.

“I think I see your car! I’ll meet you outside, hang on.”

Sakura could only let out a short hum of agreement before Haku ended the call and she broke through the tree line.

The road melted into a driveway that led up to the nice-looking house, the lawn lush with green grass and a few trees standing tall outside the building. Behind it, Sakura could see the lake – her lips thinning at the sight of rolling wisps of fog – and the small boathouse off to the side. The ground sloped up slightly, leading to the house, and Sakura could vividly remember the living room inside that looked out over the lake, part of the house supported by sturdy framework as it extended out over the water. Just as he’d said, Haku was waiting outside, standing on the porch and waving in greeting as she pulled up next to his jeep.

He quickly ran towards her when she parked, skipping the last two steps, a bright smile on his face and his enviously-long, black hair pulled up into a bun. The moment she stepped out of her car, she was tackled into a hug and nearly knocked over by the taller boy.

“It’s so good to see you!” A pause as he pulled back to look her over, holding her at arm’s-length. “You cut your hair!”

Smiling sheepishly, Sakura reached up to run her fingers through her pixie cut before dropping her hand to play with her scarf. “It’s only been a month since you were in Konoha! And, yeah, the hair is... well, it’s new.”

Haku gave a soft laugh and reached up to ruffle her hair, his brown eyes sparkling and excited.

“I like it! It’s cute.” At her pleased smile, he continued. “And I only got to visit for a day last time. I missed you, Sakura.”

Bright smile returning, Haku quickly pulled her close for another hug and pecked her cheek before moving to help her grab her luggage, chatting happily as they approached his house.

“I’ve got a couple hours before I need to get going so we can hang out for a bit, and, I promise, I’ll treat you to dinner as thanks when I get back.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Bulky camera bag slung over her shoulder, Sakura followed Haku up the porch and locked her car behind her, the tips of her ears turning red in response to the chill in the air.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for this, Sakura. Usually I’m fine with leaving the house by itself – Zabuza stops by to water my plants if I’m gone for a while – but this is longest trip I’ve taken yet and I can’t take the rabbits with me nor do I want to leave them with someone else for so long.”

As if on cue, and no more than two steps past the door, two small masses of fur – one white and one grey – came bounding towards the pair, circling Haku’s feet before pausing next to her, sniffing her pants legs and boots. Smiling, Sakura crouched down and held her hand out, expression brightening when the pair quickly investigated, their noses pressed to her palm before the white rabbit gave her hand a lick, her little black paws on her knee, and the grey bun quickly circled her a couple times.

Haku paused, setting her suitcase aside, and chuckled under his breath as he crouched down as well, stroking the white rabbit.

“Looks like Mochi and Pebble remember you, Sakura. You’re one of the few lucky people they’ve taken a shine to over the years.”

With an amused grin, she reached over to pet Pebble, the smaller of the pair, when she stopped next to her free hand. Sakura’s ran her fingers over the darker grey spots on her forehead before she glanced up at the sound of soft thumps, smile faltering slightly.

Haku’s third and final rabbit, smaller than Mochi but larger than Pebble and covered in black fur marbled with brown spots, was watching them, crouched a few feet away and her brown ear twitching. A little hesitantly, Sakura held out a hand and waited before her expression fell into a deadpan when the bunny simply turned and hopped away, kicking her back feet up at Sakura.

“And Marzipan still hates me.”

Giggling to himself, Haku gave Mochi’s ears a few final scratches before standing and taking Sakura’s arm, leading her further into the house as the rabbits followed after them.

“She’ll warm up to you after you feed her, don’t worry. I think she knows I’m leaving so she’s acting a little passive aggressive. Now! Let’s get you settled in and I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

::

An hour and a half later found the pair on Haku’s couch, a second batch of hot cocoa in hand and the rabbits lazing around them. With Mochi in her lap, Pebble flopped next to her thigh, and Marzipan tucked under Haku’s knee as he sat cross-legged, Sakura inputted the list of emergency contacts and general numbers of importance into her phone while he flipped through one of her photo portfolios. Absentmindedly stroking the white bun, she glanced up to gaze out the glass doors leading to the small terrace that looked out over the misty lake for a moment before returning her attention to the list, pausing on the last name.

“You mentioned me probably meeting this Zabuza guy, right?” She finally asked as she finished keying in his number. Haku glanced up, expression shifting to one of remembrance before he nodded.

“Oh! Yes, he’s supposed to be dropping off a package for me when he gets back from town later this afternoon. I’ll be gone by then, but he already knows you’ll be here.”

“And who exactly is he again? You’ve mentioned him several times already but I don’t think I know him.”

He smiled at her confused expression, chuckling under his breath before carefully closing her portfolio.

“Zabuza is one of my neighbors – his home is the house closest to mine – and he’s been living on the lake for years longer than I have.” When she nodded in reply, his smiled turned a little more teasing, a playful glint in his eyes. “Big scary guy – could probably crush a man’s skull with just his hands if he tried hard enough. And definitely an axe murderer.”

Sakura sent him an unamused look and he laughed, reaching down to pet Marzipan’s back.

“Kidding, kidding. He’s a little intimidating at first, but a really nice guy once you get to know him. I think you’ll get along.”

Lips pursed, she slowly nodded, leaning back into the couch and smiling fondly when Pebbled shifted, moving to hop up next to Mochi. Sakura hummed under her breath for a moment before glancing over at Haku, eyebrow quirked and her mug of hot chocolate at her lips.

“And what about the other locals? Anyone to... watch out for?”

He reached over to massage the white bunny’s ear and looked thoughtful, turning his gaze out over the lake view.

“Chojuro, the police officer, is my other immediate neighbor and he’s really sweet, if a little shy. Do you still like to take early morning jogs?” At her nod, he continued, leaning back slightly when Marzipan moved out from under his knee and halfway into his lap. “Then you’ll probably meet him if you use the trail that circles the lake – he’s up for runs pretty early in the day.”

A pause as he took a sip of his hot cocoa.

“There are only seven houses around the lake and the two vacant ones are next to each other on the other side of Chojuro’s property. I’ve never personally met Zabuza’s other neighbor, Kisame, but they’re close friends so I hear about him sometimes.” He shrugged, brushing his long, parted bangs over his shoulder. “He works at home and he’s a bit of a recluse, so I doubt you’ll meet him.”

“And the last neighbor?”

Here, Haku’s lips pursed into a frown and he looked back at the lake, expression dry as he pointed into the distance.

“Suigetsu is a... character. He lives on the other side of the lake from me, fortunately. He’s, er... frustrating.” Sighing, he rubbed his forehead, obliging the brown rabbit with chin scratches when she nudged his free hand. “His brother is a lot nicer – more tolerable, at least – but I think he’s in Europe at the moment.”

A dutiful nod.

“So I should keep some pepper spray in hand if I happen to meet a ‘Suigetsu’, got it.”

Haku’s laugh was immediate and he quickly cooed down at the rabbits when they all jumped in surprise, composing himself as he grinned at Sakura.

“No, no! He’s not a bad guy or anything, just a little annoying. Suigetsu keeps to himself usually, so I don’t think you’ll end up meeting him.” She still looked a little dubious and he chuckled under his breath, sending her a lopsided smile. “Every town has that one kooky local – Suigetsu just so happens to fit that bill.”

It was about then that Haku pulled out his own cellphone and checked the time, giving a reluctant sigh as he gently moved Marzipan out of his lap.

“It’s about time I got going.” Lips turning down in a frown as he rose from his spot on the couch, he glanced around and mused aloud. “I already gave you the rabbits’ meal times and showed you where their supplies are...”

“Did you need help loading up your luggage?” Pebble and Mochi begrudgingly hopped out of her lap as Sakura moved to stand as well, all three of buns piling up next to each other as the Haku tried to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.

“No, no, I packed up the jeep earlier this morning. You’ve got the vet’s number and you said you still remember their general care routine – what else, what else...”

The pair moved out of the living room, Haku absentmindedly pocketing his phone and wallet, and towards the kitchen, the young man gesturing towards the fridge.

“Everything is pretty stocked up but keep receipts if you do any extra grocery shopping so that I can pay you back.” He quickly pressed his fingers to her lips when she looked like she was going to argue, his smile unfaltering. “And that’s not a request. It’s the least I can do!”

After spending a few moments to show her where various items and appliances were in the kitchen, they headed back towards the front door.

“WiFi password is on the nightstand next to the bed, I showed you where the laundry room is earlier, and, oh! The pizza place in town does deliver, just mention my name when they ask for the address. What am I forgetting?”

They’d finally made it to the door and Haku’s eyebrows were furrowed, his hands patting his pockets before he glanced over at the foyer table next to the entrance and his expression brightened with realization.

“Keys!”

Sakura accepted the ring of keys that he plucked out of a glass bowl on the table, checking a few of them over for a moment to find that they were all labeled. Grabbing his car keys from the bowl as well, Haku reached for a coat hung up on the coat rack next to the foyer table, sending her a smile as he pulled it on.

“House key, key to the boat house – feel free to use it if you’re in the mood for a ride on the lake, and my PO Box key.” The rabbits had joined them at this point, hopping up Haku as they seemed to realize that he was leaving and, smiling softly, he crouched down to offer goodbyes and pets. It was only a few moments later before he finally stood and pulled Sakura in for a hug, pecking her cheek once more.

“Give me a call if anything comes up or if you have any questions, okay?”

Smiling, she quickly returned the hug and moved to open the door for him when they separated, nodding as she replied and pocketed the keys.

“Have fun, Haku, and drive safe. I’ll keep you updated on how things are going!”

He gave a final coo to the buns before finally heading towards his jeep, sending Sakura a wave as he moved to climb in.

“See you in a few weeks, Sakura! And thanks again!”

She was careful not to let the rabbits run out, waving in reply and watching Haku back up and travel down the driveway. She waited until he disappeared through the trees before returning inside, rubbing at her arms to beat back the short chill from outside. The bunnies waited at the door for a few moments longer, Mochi standing up on her hind legs while Pebble and Marzipan sniffed at the bottom of the door, before they finally moved away and followed after her. Sakura shuffled carefully into the living room as the grey rabbit wove between her feet and, with a stretch, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket.

“You guys still have a couple hours until your official dinner time but Haku said your hay rack might need a refill about now. I’ll check on that and then we can see if he left his Netflix logged in...”

::

After the rabbits had been fed their fresh veggies and Sakura triple-checked to make sure their water bowls were full of clean water, she turned her attention to the fridge, hands on her hips as she tried to decide what to make for herself. There were a few toys scattered around the kitchen as Mochi hanged out around her, the other two buns running and playing in the living room with more toys, and she was careful to watch her step as she moved towards the pantry.

Eventually settling on a simple sandwich, Sakura prepared her dinner and grabbed a bottle of water before returning to the living room. She took her seat on the couch, legs crossed and tucked close and the rabbits burning off energy on the carpeted floor, and returned her attention to the TV. Aladdin was still paused, only about ten minutes into the movie – just as she’d left it, and she only made it a few scenes in before there was a sudden knock at the door.

She, of course, jumped in surprise and the rabbits froze, their attention turning in the direction of the front door, and Sakura glanced over her shoulder. Frowning to herself, she hesitated for a moment before finally remembering what Haku had said about his neighbor dropping off a package. She shrugged to herself, guessing that it was the neighbor at the door, and moved to stand, veering off her path to the front of the house to slip into the kitchen and leave her food on a counter, out of reach of the buns.

Sakura ran her fingers through her short hair as she approached the front door, unlocking it before carefully pulling it open and pausing as she stared up at the man in front of her.

He looked like he could very well be an entire foot taller than her, his shoulders broad and entire build muscular, and Sakura blinked as she took in his appearance, remembering Haku’s brief description of ‘Zabuza’.

If the man standing in front of her was, in fact, this mysterious Zabuza, intimidating was pretty damn accurate.

He was dressed pretty light considering the chill in the air of the early evening, the sleeves of his dark blue hoodie pushed halfway up his forearms and the jacket itself open over a black shirt. He was wearing a scarf, Sakura noted in slight relief, but it hid most of his lower face from view and she was left taking in the few details that she could see.

Short, messy, black hair and hard brown eyes that were narrowed as he looked her over as well, and shit, she’d been staring, hadn’t she?

“May I help you?”

He watched her for a moment longer, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans while the other held a package tucked up under his arm. The man gave a short huff and glanced over her shoulder before refocusing his steely gaze on her, shifting his weight to his other foot.

“You must be the friend that’s housesitting.” He finally replied, his voice deep but muffled behind the grey scarf. “Haku said you’d probably be here when I stopped by. Did he leave already?”

She resisted the urge to chew on her lip and moved out from behind the door to face him fully, suspicions confirmed.

“Yes and yes, he left a couple hours ago. I’m Sakura Haruno – you must be Zabuza?”

His posture shifted slightly, shoulders relaxing into a slight slouch, and he gave a curt nod before holding out the package.

“Good, he told you I’d be stopping by.” Another grunt as he nodded at her and she held back her frown, lips pressed tightly together.

“Zabuza Momochi,” When she moved to accept the box, she caught the slight change in his expression and realized that he was smirking at her from behind his scarf. “Welcome to Lake Kiri.”

She offered him an awkward smile in an attempt to hide her sudden nervousness.

“Oh, uhm, thanks, Zabuza.” Feeling the need to keep the conversation going, if just to be a polite, she shuffled her feet and rubbed the back of her head. “Do you have any tips as a local? Any places in town to recommend?”

There was another change in his expression, gaze cold and hard set as he looked down at her and an icy chill passed over the pair.

“Don’t go in the water.”

Sakura froze, eyes going wide as her gaze flickered to the side and she resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder.

Grip tightening around the box, she watched him hesitantly.

“W-why..? Is there something wr-”

His snort cut her off and he gave her a very dry look.

“It’s November. Even if the lake isn’t frozen over, the water is still colder than a snowman’s ass. You’ll just end up with hypothermia.”

The flush on her face was both due to the cold air and her embarrassment and Sakura coughed awkwardly into her fist, green gaze dropping down to the side as she mentally berated herself.

Duh, Sakura.

“R-right, of course. Thanks for the heads up...”

His amused grunt only furthered her embarrassment and Zabuza slipped his free hand into his pocket, that smirk returning as he watched her.

“There’s a bakery next to the post office.” He said after a moment and she glanced up, pink eyebrow quirked. “I recommend the blueberry glazed.”

She gave him a slow, nod in thanks and they stood silently for a few seconds before he shifted his weight to his other leg again. Rolling his shoulders in a shrug, he tipped his head towards her in a final nod as his gaze turned oddly thoughtful.

“Anyways, I’ll get going. Nice meeting you. Haku gave you my number?”

(It didn’t particularly sound like he meant it, but she appreciated the sentiment. He looked like he was more annoyed with the niceties than he was letting on, but she wasn’t about to say anything about it.)

At her nod, he turned, walking down the porch and towards a truck that she now noticed parked next to her car, a hand lifting from his pocket as he offered a short wave in farewell.

“O-oh! Nice meeting you too, Zabuza. Have a good night?”

She received a nod in reply and, in moments, he was making his way down the driveway and into the trees. Sakura stared after him for a few seconds, gaze following the glow of his brake lights, before she let out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing. Package tucked under her arm, she ran her fingers through her hair and quickly went back inside, taking a moment to lock the door once more.

She could now put a face to a name, one of four, and while first impressions hadn’t been too terrible, she wasn’t sure how she felt about this Zabuza guy. Intimidating, for sure. But she had a feeling that he had been trying not to act too sour towards her. Still, he was apparently pretty close friends with Haku, so that was reason enough to attempt to be friendly with him.

Hopefully she’d have similar luck with the other neighbors.

::

While the rabbits had their own cute little beds tucked into their large corner of Haku’s bedroom, complete with toys, fleece blankets, a little hidey-house, and bowl of water, Sakura wasn’t too surprised when she felt one hop up onto the bed later that night, sniffing at her face as she let out a groan. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour and a quick peak at her phone confirmed that it was just past midnight. Rolling over onto her back, Sakura absentmindedly stroked the bun that was snuggling up against her chest, its nose tucked under her chin, and managed to spot white fur in the darkness of the room.

Draping an arm over her eyes, she let out a tired yawn.

Only to pause as her ears picked up the distant sound of water splashing.

Eyebrows furrowed, Sakura lowered her arm and glanced to her left - towards the window that faced the lake. Lips pursed, she listened for a moment longer and was just about to pass it off as her imagination when she heard far-away splashes again, Mochi nuzzling at her jaw as she frowned to herself.

Mumbling an apology to the rabbit, she slowly sat up and ultimately tucked the bun against her side when she didn’t hop off of her lap. Carefully supporting Mochi with her arm, Sakura slid off the edge of the bed and moved towards the windows, a hand raised to brush through her messy pink hair. With the rabbit snuggled into the crook of her arm, she pulled back a white curtain and peered out at misty lake, gaze narrowed as she tried to see anything through the rolling clouds of fog.

The moon bathed the lake with a soft glow, making the entire scene rather eerie and Sakura tried to convince herself that the chill creeping up her spine was completely plausible considering the cold weather. Fortunately, she saw no eyes in the mist or figures out on the water or spooky, unidentifiable shadows and, with a tired groan, she told herself that it was nothing, thank you very much.

Still, she was sure to double check the locks on the windows before pulling the curtains back into place, finally returning to the bed and mumbling a goodnight to Mochi when she took up a spot on her stomach, the pair quickly falling back asleep.

Had Sakura stayed at the window just a minute longer, she would have surely seen the distant shape rise out of the water, the fog drifting around it for a moment before it sank back down below the surface of the lake.

[askmissthunder]

It was very lovely!

I always seem to underestimate how homesick I tend to get as I turned into a blubbering wreck as soon as I saw my parents at the airport on Good Friday. The ride from the airport to our country home was long but pleasant as I took in all the familiar sights and breathed in that fresh air, the scent of approaching rain never too far away.

(Okay, maybe my home isn’t quite that idyllic but it is very pretty in the Spring)

When we pulled onto our driveway, I was surprised to see many of my family members standing outside and a large banner hanging above the front door, reading "Welcome Home, Penny!!!".  As many of my aunts and uncles gathered around me, I heard a familiar little voice call my name. Spinning my wheelchair around, a small form crashed onto my belly, clinging tightly. I smiled as I saw it was my youngest cousin, Kayla, now 6 years old and with a grin like a rugby player due to missing some of her baby teeth.

She wasn't the only one eager to greet me as Sam, our family corgi, came sprinting from behind the house, yipping with excitement.  His stubby legs could only reach so far as he tried to jump up on my tummy.  As I picked him up, he licked my face, making loud whining noises. "Oh, I missed you too, Sammy!", I told him, kissing his wet nose.

The small crowd of relatives parted as I saw my Nan headed my way, her face beaming with pride. I was a bit taken aback as I could tell that she's certainly shrunk since I saw her last Christmas, her weight now somewhere in the 30 stone region and maybe just barely hitting 180 cm. (That's roughly 400 pounds and 6 feet for the yanks). It felt a little bizarre hugging her as I've always known her to be, well, my size ever since I was a little girl. Now, since becoming the Avatar of the Goddess, the roles had reversed.

Nan and Mum led me inside the house to show me "a surprise". They led me to my old bedroom and opened my closet. Tucked away far in the back, in a cardboard box, was our exotic shorthair cat, Missy. I gasped loudly as I saw she was nursing three tiny kittens. My cat was a Mummy!

"Missy! Congratulations!", I exclaimed. "When did she have them?"

"Just the other day!", my Mum answered, peeking over my broad shoulders, "She was acting odd, just roaming around the house, like she was looking for something."

"She was looking for a place to nest.", Nan said, "so I found an old cardboard box and a blanket and....well, in the heat of the moment, I forgot you were coming over, so I put it in your closet. Sorry, dearie."

"Oh, no worries, Nana! I'm just glad she had a nice safe place to have her babies!"

We then left Missy alone to rest and tend to her little ones.

Before the day was done, all the ladies in the family planted a sprig of parsley in our garden for good luck and we made sure to eat freshly baked hot cross buns.

Saturday was pleasant, I mainly just relaxed, not having to worry about going on patrol or schoolwork. Of course, all my relatives wanted to know about what it's like living in the States. The food, how the people were, all that good stuff.  But my face must've gone bright red when my Auntie Megan asked, "So, you have a boyfriend now, I hear?".

(I confronted Mum about it who admitted she spilled the beans about Eli. "What, do you think I'm not gonna brag about my daughter's charming wrestler boyfriend?". It's not that I mind talking about Eli, it's just that Auntie Megan wanted to know every juicy detail about our relationship.)

Come Sunday morning, we were all getting ready for Easter Mass. Mum had a beautiful yellow dress made just for me which I couldn't help but twirl around in in the privacy of my bedroom. It's tradition in England that getting new clothes on Easter is good luck. (No such thing as too much good luck, I say!) While the Mass was lovely, it felt a little odd as it was the first time I had actually gone to church since I received my powers. Not to mention the theological confusion of celebrating Easter at all when my powers come from a pagan goddess but I think that's a discussion for another time.

After church, the nearby town put on an Easter parade complete with floats, Morris Dancers and a Jack in the Green! There were also several maypoles that my younger cousins participated in, clad in white dresses and twirling about, definitely reminds me when I used to do the same when I was younger.

When we got back home, my Dad went right to work, hiding Easter eggs all over the yard.  He told me he had already planned out the hiding spots over a week in advance. I asked him why he was always so eager to hide the eggs year after year.

"Well", he said, tucking an egg on a low hanging tree branch, "Finding eggs was always my favorite thing to do on Easter. But as I got older, I found I liked hiding them even better because I always liked seeing my little brothers and cousins get so excited when they found them.  I don't know why. I just get so pleased to see the wee ones enjoying themselves. I especially remember my little princess enjoying the hunt too."

I remembered all too fondly of peeking in logs or looking under bushes, eager to fill my basket. I made sure to give Dad a kiss on the cheek for all the wonderful memories.

After the egg hunt (which took nearly an hour and got my little cousins covered in grass stains), we settled down to a proper family feast with roast lamb and lots of veggies grown in our garden. As in English tradition, we had Simnel cake for dessert to celebrate the end of Lent, a fruit cake covered in marzipan and topped with 12 marzipan balls, representing Jesus and his disciples. (Not Judas, though, for obvious reasons)

I was about to laze about on the couch to let dinner digest when my Mum tapped me on the shoulder.

"Sweetie, we were wondering if we could hear you play your flute? To be honest, I really miss hearing you practice in your room. It feels so quiet without you here."

I giggled at her eagerness , "Well, if you're gonna twist my arm about it, Mummy..."

She then ran to my room to fetch one of my spare flutes (one of the few that managed to survive my grip back when I was still learning to control my strength).

Since it was Easter and Spring was fully in bloom, I decided to play "Spring" from Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons". To give you an idea of what that sounds like, here's a recording by one of my favorite flutists, James Galway.

After my performance, wee Kayla tugged on my Mum's dress, clutching my VHS copy of The Wizard of Oz.

"Auntie, can I watch this? It's my favorite movie!", she asked, hopping up and down.

Mum laughed, "Of course, luv! You know, that used to be one of Penny's favorite movies when she was little, too."

As Mum flipped on the telly, Kayla sat by my side on the couch, squishing herself between the couch arm and my giant hip.

"Are you comfortable there, Kay? I'm not squashing you, am I?", I asked.

She shook her head, patting my tire-thick love handle, "Uh-uh! You're nice and soft like a pillow!"

The two of us watched in silence for some time, sharing the chocolate bunnies from Kayla's Easter basket, but by the time Dorothy was about to start singing "Somewhere Over The Rainbow", I looked around and saw that the rest of my family had settled down around us, either sitting on a chair brought from the kitchen or sitting on the carpet.

I couldn't help but smile at everyone, feeling very blessed to belong to such a wonderful family.

....You know, come to think of it, maypoles, Morris dancing and Jack in the Green all started out as pagan traditions to celebrate Spring. Hmm....  

[touristguidebuzz]

The ultimate road trip around North Italy

Today’s guest post was written by Roxanne Smith, an adventurous travel writer who loves to explore Europe by taking road trips. We have not yet taken a road trip in Italy (but it’s high on the list), so we’re happy to share this itinerary for an 11-day road trip around North Italy and Tuscany. If you’re looking for more road trip inspiration, read our perfect Ireland road trip itinerary for families or get inspired by these stunning landscapes from our Canadian Rockies road trip.   

The ultimate road trip around North Italy and Tuscany

Are you thinking about travelling to Italy this summer? Do you want to see as much as you can? Discover ‘La Bella Italia’ on this amazing 11-day road trip that will take you to Italy’s most famous, beautiful and romantic spots. This road trip starts in Milan and ends in Venice, visiting Bergamo, Parma, Pisa, Siena, Florence and Bologna.

Before you take this epic road trip, it’s wise to book your rental car in advance to make sure you get the car you want for the best deal. Hotels also book up fast in the summer so you should consider making reservations in advance to be safe.

Agriturismo is another fun and unique way to experience the Italian way of life. Check the highlights of this tour and make online reservations to avoid waiting in long lines.

Day 1 & 2: Milan

Start your road trip in Milan, Europe’s Fashion Capital. This iconic city has a broad collection of fashion shops filled with designer brands, such as Prada, Louis Vuitton, Burberry, Gucci and Armani. Discover this true (window) shopping paradise in the Quadrilatero d’Oro (the Golden Square) and the famous shopping streets like Via Montenapoleone, Via della Spiga, Via Manzoni and Corso Venzia.

Once you’re finished shopping, enjoy the rich culture Milan has to offer. The Duomo (Santa Maria Nascente) is located in the heart of downtown Milan. With your ticket you can go up to the roof of the Cathedral. In front of the Cathedral is a gigantic square, Piazza del Duomo, where you will find some great photography spots.

Just outside the city center is the monument Arco della Pace, which forms the gateway to Parco Sempione. In this park you’ll find Castello Sforzesco, a medieval castle with artwork by Da Vinci and Michelangelo (free entrance). Afterwards, take a rest in the beautiful Botanical Garden. If you’re a football fan don’t forget to pay a visit to the San Siro Stadion.

If you have time, and want to go for a swim and enjoy an idyllic scene, make a day trip to the second largest lake of Italy: Lake Como. It’s about a one hour drive from Milan.

Day 3: Milan to Bergamo

50 km, 45 minute drive time.

Pick up your rental car and hit the road to Bergamo. It’s about 50 km east of Milan and has a beautiful, elevated old city that invites you for a stroll. Bergamo is on the top of a hill and surrounded by thick Venetian city walls. The old town is car-free, so when you arrive, you will need to take a bus or a cable car to go further uphill.

All the highlights of Bergamo are basically found in Città Alta, the high city. The old city center has many charming small restaurants, bars, craft and pastry shops. Once there you must try the ‘polenta e osei’. This sweet specialty is only found in Bergamo. It’s a cake covered with yellow marzipan, filled with chocolate, hazelnut cream and rum. On top there’s a little marzipan bird dipped in chocolate.

Right in the middle of Città Alta is the beautiful Piazza Vecchia. Surrounded by medieval houses, narrow alleys and ancient towers. Palazzo della Ragione is the oldest still existing city hall of northern Italy. Next to it is the Gothic Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. Walk up to Palazzo Terzi for an amazing view of the city and it’s surroundings.

Day 4: Bergamo to Pisa

320 km, 3.5 hours drive time.

Take the southern highway through the city of Parma. You can stop here to indulge yourself with the famous Parma cuisine: Parmigiano-reggiano (Parmesan cheese), Prosciutto di Parma (raw ham) and the more expensive Culatello di Zibello (salami) and Lambrusco (sparkling wine).

Day 5: Pisa

Continue your trip to Pisa. When you think of Pisa the Leaning Tower comes to mind. To climb the 800 year old marble bell tower, you’ll need to get a ticket in a reserved time slot. Each day a limited number of tickets are available.

To avoid standing in line (especially in the summer) you can purchase your tickets online.

While you wait for your turn to climb up the 300 steps of the tower, join the other tourists and capture some creative photos of you trying to push back the leaning tower. You can also visit the other monuments nearby: The Cathedral, The Baptistery & Camposanto and The Sinopie Museum.

Day 6 & 7: Pisa to Siena

126 km, 2 hours drive time.

To get to Siena you must drive the beautiful Tuscany landscape, passing rolling Tuscan hills filled with tall cypress trees and vineyards. Along the way you’ll pass Volterra, a small  medieval village that’s worth stopping for. It has tall city walls and a breathtaking view over the area and nearby San Gimignano. After this short break, get back in the car and continue your drive to Siena.

Siena is ‘the most beautiful city in Tuscany’ according to many Italians. There’s so much to see and do in this lively city. Let’s start with the impressive 12th century old Duomo di Siena (Cattedrale di Santa Maria Assunta). It mirrors the prosperity of the city. It has a well decorated facade, a beautiful inlaid floor and sculptures by Michelangelo and Nicola Pisano.

The shell-shaped square, the Piazza del Campo, is an excellent place to take a break. Make sure you try a panforte, ‘heavy bread’ filled with fruit and nuts. Or try these other Siena specialties: pici (pasta), ribollita (bean soup) and cantuccini (sweet pastries).

After these treats you can visit the Palazzo Pubblico and it’s Torre del Mangia. The tower got its nickname from one of the whistleblowers, Giovanni di Balduccio, who was called ‘Mangiaguadagni’ (eats his merits) because he would spend his entire salary on food.

If you want to visit multiple monuments, purchase the Siena City Pass to save time and money.

Day 8 & 9: Siena to Florence

80 km, 1.5 hours drive time.

Florence, or Firenze, is Tuscany’s capital and the birthplace of the Renaissance. With millions of tourists each year, it’s one of the most popular cities in Italy. Florence is a perfect mix of history, art and culture. Due to the large number things to see and do it’s wise to dedicate a couple days here.

Florence also has a city pass, the Firenze Card. It’s expensive (€72), so check the highlights you want to visit and see if it makes sense to get the card. A fun way to explore Florence is by bike. You can book a guided tour which will show you all the highlights Florence has to offer.

The Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore is definitely a must see for every first time visitor to Florence. The white, green and red/pink marble is truly magnificent. The Cupola or dome by Brunelleschi is climbable with a pre-booked ticket.

Next to the Duomo stands the Baptistery with the bronze Gates of Paradise and the 85 meter tall Campanile (Giotto’s Bell Tower). After climbing 414 steps you can enjoy a panoramic view over the city.

Don’t miss Michelangelo’s famous David in the Galleria dell’Accademia and the art treasures of the Uffizi Gallery, where you can find the Birth of Venus by Sandro Botticelli.

Of course, you can’t miss the impressive main square Piazza della Signoria and the Ponte Vecchio, with the jewelers shops on the bridge itself. Conclude your visit with the and Palazzo Pitti with the Boboli Gardens.

Day 10: Florence to Bologna

105 km, 1 hour and 40 minute drive time.

After Florence your trip continues to Bologna. Bologna actually has three nicknames. The first is ‘La Grasse’, the thick, because of the rich cuisine. The second is ‘La Rossa’, the red, because of the many red roof tiles on top of the buildings and houses in the city. The third is ‘La Dotta’, the scholar, because Bologna has a University and is filled with students.

The skyline of Bologna is formed by two skewed towers, the Asinelli Tower and Garisenda Tower. Both are remains from the middle ages. The higher tower, Asinelli, can be climbed, so you can admire the red rooftops from above.

Piazza Maggiore forms the center of the city. The square is a bit similar to the St. Mark’s square in Venice. A great place to have some lunch or dinner. Bologna is world famous because of one pasta dish: Spaghetti Bolognese. Although it’s originally prepared with tagliatelle.

Day 11: Bologna to Venice

155 km, 2 hours drive time.

End your Italian road trip in one of the most romantic cities in Europe. Venice is formed by a number of island connected by bridges and a maze of small streets. The most well-known neighborhoods are San Marco and San Polo.

San Marco has all the famous sights: St. Mark’s square (with all the pigeons), the Campanile, the Basilica di San Marco and the Palazzo Ducale. In San Polo you’ll find the Rialto Bridge. On and around the bridge it’s always crowded.

If you want something more quiet, just get lost in one of the many streets and discover the shops and wine bars. Or relax and take a seat on a bench at one of the many squares.

For the ultimate romantic Venice experience, take a famous gondola tour. It costs around €80 for half an hour (in the evening ± €100).

Not a romantic type? You can take the Vaporetto (the water bus) line no. 1. Along the way, you’ll zig-zag across the Canal Grande and pass under the Rialto Bridge and Accademia Bridge.

If you have a few more days to spend in Italy then I’d recommend adding a visit to Cinque Terre, a UNESCO World Heritage made up of centuries-old seaside villages on the rugged Italian Riviera coastline.

You’ll want to spend at least 3 days in this region, so if you have 14 days for your road trip around North Italy then I would highly recommend adding Cinque Terre to the itinerary.

Have you taken a road trip in Northern Italy?

Share your tips and recommendations in the comments section below.

Read next – The perfect Ireland road trip for Families

  The ultimate road trip around North Italy is a post from: Traveling Canucks

Related posts:

Highlights from our 2 week Ireland road trip

The Blarney Castle in Ireland – is it worth visiting?

15 Photos that will inspire you to visit Cobh, Ireland

Traveling to Ireland for the first time? Here’s what you need to know

[twistednuns]

March 2017

Passer une semaine merveilleuse à Paris avec Frank! Wow, my first impulse was actually to start writing in French, this is how far I've already come in little more than a week of intense training... Which brings me to me first good thing this month, even before writing about the great things that happened in Paris:

Being extremely motivated to brush up my French! It was so much fun to notice how my language skills improved every day even though I only spent five days in Paris. On my last day, I bought one of the Harry Potter books in French (I figured reading a book I already know more or less by heart will make it less hard when I have to guess every other word). I read seven chapters on the train to Munich and have since scored thousands of experience points on Duolingo. Gosh, I even started filling a notebook with vocabulary and grammar rules. I wonder how long I can keep up this pace... But it's so amazing, I catch myself talking to myself in French (in my thoughts at least). Immersing myself in the language definitely made an impression on me.

Ok, so, Paris. The train ride was great because I started AND finished reading a whole book. / I was so happy whenever I managed to have a successful conversation in French. / I really liked Ombeline, especially roaming around her apartment (with more than 17 chairs in the living room alone). Going through all her books and bandes dessinées (she even had one by Margaux Motin!), making breakfast in her kitchen, opening some of the cupboards and marvelling at the sheer amount of stuff and back-ups she owns, looking at her souvenirs from Africa and the beautiful crescent moon mask. / The SOHN concert at La Maroquinerie (which was by chance only a few hundred metres away from Ombeline's flat). "I can feel it coming, we can never go back." / Finding a statue of a gorgeous bearded man in marble; surrounded by baby angels with severed heads. A man after my fancy. / Sitting in Sacré-Coeur, taking cover from the rain, having a profane conversation. / Taking a walk from Montmartre to Faubourg; a good hour of sunshine, glitter on the streets in Pigalle, noticing that gay Frenchmen have a very distinct style. Sharing a passion fruit éclair. Decadent bulky waste (a pink satin canapé). / Spending time at Centre Pompidou, rediscovering Twombly, Brancusi and Klee. / Sitting outside a café with a strong drink and a cigarette (I had to think about Franzi's idea of the ideal way to spend time in Paris - sitting around in cafés all day, wearing red lipstick and smoking way too much). / Watching the swing dancers at Balajo. / Le jardin des plantes! The palaeontology and geology museum were fantastic. I've always wanted to go there but somehow I never managed even though I've been to Paris three times before. / Sitting at the Seine, next to each other, taking in the scenery.

Minimalism input: reading Escape Everything by Robert Wringham in Ombelines overly full apartment made me consider doing something drastic with my life. Sell all my stuff, become a digital nomad. So many ideas!

Overhearing a little girl one afternoon addressing the red, white and blue balloons she had just gotten in a bakery: "Ja ich weiß, ihr Luftballons ihr wollt weg!"

I've basically stopped watching TV? What's going on? I only saw one movie in February, and that was at the cinema! Awesome! More time for books!

Buying books is so satisfying. I loved spending time in French book stores (Les Mots à la Bouche!), going through the used-book section at the Bouquinistes and Shakespeare and Company. I bought so many books during the last few weeks. It's gonna take the rest of the year to read all of them.

My colleague asked me whether I'd like to start a sustainability exchange programme with a school in South America! Exciting!

The Grossstadtgeflüster concert at Feierwerk was awesome. I even got a sticker with a street sign for Fickt-Euch-Allee (I kinda wanna put it over the real street sign here in my street).

Oat cookies with dark chocolate. Baking my favourite lemon cake with poppy seeds and blueberries.

A weird weekend - I neither left the house nor talked to anyone - but I was in the mood to clean all my windows! My productivity high is getting scary...

How sadly true this article on jealousy is. The first paragraph actually triggered me to shout out "ha" because I felt caught. Oh well. After all "you have to keep breaking your heart before it opens." (Rumi)

ALMOST booking a flight to Cancún over Christmas and New Year's Eve. It might still happen. So far I'm afraid I'm spending too much money as it is... we'll see how much unreason my bank account can take. But just imagining lying on a white, sandy beach on the first day of 2018 while Germany vanishes in a cloud of dust and smoke after the annual fireworks... nice thought.

Making poached eggs for the first time. You have to make a swirl with an egg whisk in a pot of vinegar water and crack the eggs while the water is still moving.

The nice feeling of the dust cover of Zeige deine Wunde by Rüdiger Sünner.

Talking to Inge on the tram.

Watching Wilde Maus at Rio Filmpalast. Pia Hierzegger is such an interesting actress and I just found out that she's been dating Josef Hader for years now! Ha. Best quote: "Bist du angrennt irgendwo?"

Drawing some figures for my sixth-graders and colouring them in Photoshop (I haven't done that in a while but it's so much fun). And in general - being more creative. Drawing a treasure map with black ink. Getting the watercolours out. Sitting down with my students to make clay and stone sculptures. It's so nice to create something, free from pressure.

A fantastic room tour.

The handsome dude from the French textbook publishing company. Can he come over more often, please?

Watching old Art Attack videos.

A very stormy morning. 6am, the sky still dark blue, the trees bending and bowing as black silhouettes against it. What an energetic start into the day.

Pressed flowers. I'm thinking about making my own, just like I used to as a kid.

This article: On drowning goats.

I just had a wonderful idea: I'd like to make a book for my friends. I'm not quite sure what should go inside but I was thinking of stories and memories, recipes, photographs and of course some of my drawings. I'd have so much fun layouting it and I'd also have a full round of really good Christmas presents. Projects! Whee!

It sounds counter-intuitive but: Running from a situation instead of suffering through it. I often try to do "the right/decent thing" to put a good face on the matter and sit it out when I'm actually dying on the inside. It felt good to say "no, not that shit again" and walk away.

An unexpected support squad at school (thanks, Selina, Osna, Katarina!)

Liberté, Egalité, Beyoncé

My tiny new portrait drawing class.

Successful adulting: taking care of boring insurance policies, contracts, applying for a visa, having my bike repaired, refilling my car's water tank. But I did all the things!!

Milchschnitte Himbeer and mango panna cotta.

Liebertext / exchanging daily mails with a stranger.

Getting the invitation for Franzi's and Ralf's wedding in the mail! I was so happy I was hardly even mad about all the confetti in the envelope, I mean, on my bathroom floor. And I was so relieved that my return flight from Helsinki is going to be on the day before; for I second I thought I wasn't going to make it.

"Komm mal her!" - "Aber ich hab dich gar nicht lieb." - "Ich dich aber trotzdem."

Sexy schmexy (I love saying this at the moment)

Bibiana Beglau as Mephisto in the Faust production at the Residenztheater.

Hitting the jackpot when opening a pint of ice-cream just to find a huge pool of liquid caramel right under the lid.

Seeing how creative some of my students are (I mean, hello, Frenchman, hunter, Santa Claus, rockstar and superhero minions made out of clay? Such great ideas!)

Little pink tulips with round heads and yellow edges. So cute.

Dinner with the Educational Lady Warriors. I mean, Franzi, Elsa and Martina. Finding out that Elsa is pregnant! She showed us her ultrasound picture and you can actually see a tiny human already, with the spine, brain hemispheres, the heart, the limbs... Fascinating.

Receiving a 50€ gift voucher for a book shop after completing a random survey on school questions. AND winning two theatre tickets for Liebesblind at the Pathos. Sweet.

Unsweetened almond milk. It tastes like marzipan!

I noticed that I really like the sinew over my right big toe. I don't have many body parts that aren't soft, which is why I appreciate this one sinew standing out.

I won two tickets to Liebesblind at Pathos and took Franzi with me. The location was pretty great, very Berlin-esque. Afterwards we had some drinks at her place, Ralf and a few of their friends were also there. A pretty nice evening!

My trusted old 2-minute-recipe: couscous with some feta and tomato puree.

I went to a drive-in cinema for the first time and I don't know why I'd never been before, it's AWESOME. You're in your cosy little box, get the audio via radio frequency (since my new car has a BOSE sound system the quality is excellent) AND you can talk throughout the movie!!

This incredible weather. Getting the first pistachio ice-cream of the year at my favourite ice-cream parlour in Schwabing. Seeing everyone sitting in the sun in front of the Glypthothek. And the blossoms on the trees. Munich is so nice in the sunshine.

Having pizza and ice-cream with Lexi, driving on the highway with open windows and extremely amusing German songs blasting (Schnipo Schranke, Von Wegen Lisbeth, Sookee). Drinking beer at the Bilderbuch concert, singing along, mock-arguments with Frank.

Hugging Doris just as long as she can bear it.

The other day my pupils told a colleague that she was beautiful, then they saw me and quickly added: "Oh, you are beautiful, too!" And then they group-hugged me. Adorable, bootlicking little gangsters...

How much fun I can have when I'm layouting tests and worksheets.