Cameo mention of my photo prof/video prof/advisor, wooooo. This chick is so definitely in Fredonia. ...well, so far, anyway, we'll see what happens when I settle on the surroundings of the abandoned house.
I am - for the moment - slightly ahead of where my wordcount should be. (God I'm so scared to say that, I'm terrified I'll jinx something!) There *is* a graph that's supposed to be over in the sidebar there, but NaNo's website is always beaten ten feet into the ground the first few days of November. The picture should actually load in a few days, once half the participants have decided to be wimps and drop out.
And yes, I know I broke off in the middle of a thought with today's chunk. I haven't completely decided what her hair looks like yet, so I'm taking the rest of tonight to sort it out, and I will pick up there tomorrow. ^^;
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Part 2
Dinner smelled amazing - and tasted just as wonderful. I was still a little in shock at how immediately and how warmly the Mayhews adopted me, I honestly hardly felt I was renting an apartment, it was much more like I was distant family visiting for the summer. Heck, maybe I was and no-one had ever told me, I would spend my summer unveiling small clues as to a family history that had been long forgotten--- I laughed silently at the thought. Really, Mr. Mayhew had been friends with my grandpa back when they were kids, though the connection hadn't been made until after my parents paid for the apartment. They hadn't kept in touch or anything over the years, and hadn't been close friends or anything, just gone to the same small-town school not far from here. Nothing really dramatic or anything, but just enough to make them bring me in a little more warmly maybe...or maybe not, I really couldn't imagine Mrs. Mayhew treating anyone as anything but a grandkid she hadn't seen in years, she's such a sweet doting little old lady. From what I gathered, it seemed that the two of them really did have a pretty steady stream of people staying with them, mostly relatives but also some friends of the family, and friends-of-friends, and really just anyone who wanted to visit awhile.
"This is such a big house, and it felt so empty when all the kids moved out on their own," Mrs. Mayhew chatted away as we ate. "My mother used to rent out the rooms in the west wing of the house when I was growing up, traveling businesspeople or visiting clergy, a few students from the college sometimes - as long as they were of a good reputation," she added with a wink at me. I grinned. "So when she taught me how to cook, it was always for a large group of people - and I never did learn how to scale it all down!" Which was pretty clear from the table, there were six of us there (her and Mr. Mayhew, me, Caleb, one of Mr. Mayhew's friends, and the neighbor's teenage son, who'd been over helping in the barn all afternoon while Mr. Mayhew fixed the fence) and there was still way too much food, just these vast plates of vegetables and salad and fresh fruit and a giant casserole. I felt bad leaving so much on the table, but I ate until I was stuffed, it was so good...and somehow I didn't feel as guilty about over-eating here than I would on campus, this was real food! The campus stuff is so awful for you, the Freshman Fifteen totally nailed me my first semester, though I'd tried to battle it back a little last semester. But it was so hard to pass up the late-night chicken finger subs...
Caleb gave me an impish look. "She's reputable?"
I flushed a bit, and Mr. Mayhew chuckled. "More reputable than you - I should tell the Missus what you nearly did, kicking that damn ball around today."
"Now, watch your language around the boy, please!" Mrs. Mayhew scolded.
"Oh, don't you fret, Claire, if he tries repeating any of it, I still have a few bars of that lye soap you made last winter."
Caleb looked properly horrified, and everyone else laughed at the fear in his blue eyes. "That fear gained by experience, then?" Mr. Mayhew's friend asked, and Mr. Mayhew said it was indeed. Caleb looked sullen, and stabbed viciously at the string beans on his plate, muttering to himself. I had to smile, he reminded me just then of Suzy when she was younger, poor kid.
I offered to help with the dishes after dinner, and Mrs. Mayhew nearly didn't let me, but I insisted, and finally she gave in. I was really feeling pretty spoiled, and I was so used to doing dishes and cleaning at home that I felt bad just sitting back and letting her take care of everything. Anyway, it's not like I had anything else to do that night... I'd really have to start finding something productive to do with my time, I was going to get bored out of my skull pretty quick around here, even with the job. Developing film would eat up a lot of time of course, but, even though photography's what I wanted to do, I really didn't think I could spend every waking minute on it.
We talked a bit while we worked - well, mostly, she chatted, and occasionally asked me questions, but she's full of stories of the hundreds of people who've been in and out of this house. Which was cool, of course, but it was a little creepy thinking about just how many people had slept in the room that was mine for the summer. It almost made me feel a little more distant from the place, thinking about how slight my time in it really was, compared to everything else. Just one more name and a few sparse facts, just one person out of hundreds staying on for a few weeks... Oh just what my self-esteem needs! I tried to focus back on the story Mrs. Mayhew was telling, something about some distant relative and her kids, thinking one got lost when he'd really been sitting up in a tree giggling like crazy for a few hours.
I tried to be polite and pay attention and laugh in all the right places, but my mind had gotten really distracted by the thought of those vast faceless numbers of people, and how small I was in comparison to that huge pile of stories... and really, what sort of story would I leave? Nothing, really, just a mention maybe of a girl with a quirky sense of fashion who took a lot of pictures. As soon as the dishes were done, I faked being tired and yawned, saying I wanted to unpack a few more things and then call it a night. Mrs. Mayhew told me to sleep well - everyone else had scattered around the house, I could hear Mr. Mayhew and his friend trading jokes in amiable voices out on the porch, and Caleb had bolted as soon as he'd finished eating, going who knew where. Spazz of a kid. As I reached my room and started emptying a box of CDs, I wondered vaguely how he kept himself amused here, with no-one else his age around. But then I remembered all the totally random things that had occupied my own summers as a kid. Spending hours following animal tracks around the yard, catching bugs to keep in jars for a day or two (until they died, which they always did, no matter how many different kinds of leaves you stuck in there for them to eat), building forts in the most obscure places... I realized this place would be great for making forts, whether in unused rooms or out in the woods or in the barn, I wondered if Caleb had any? I'd have to poke around, and see if he'd let me help or something, that could be pretty fun.
CDs arranged neatly on their little wooden rack, I looked around the room. Really there weren't many boxes, most of the stuff in my dorm we'd just picked up and thrown into the car and brought over here. Mom had somewhat organized it all while she was making sure I had everything I needed, so there really wasn't much to do besides add all the little touches, putting knick-knacks and things around where I wanted them. I had a small stack of prints I'd made last semester sitting on the dresser, mounted on mat board, to put up on the wall. I dug around in the box sitting on the desk, and found the giant ball of postertack I'd made when taking down everything off the dorm walls. I spent a few minutes looking around the room, spreading out the pictures on the dresser, deciding where to put each one. Most of them were black and white, I'd only taken one class so far where we used color film. I still don't really feel like I've gotten the hang of black and white, it's so hard to imagine how it's going to look before you see the actual print... but that's another thing I'm supposed to work on this summer, looking at light and shadow and texture, and learn to do black and white better.
I stuck a big print of a gorgeous sunset over the dresser, where I'd see it every morning, and grinned smugly. Whatever it was Mr. Professor Steve Komp had against sunset pictures, this one was absolutely gorgeous, so there.
I rolled out of bed around nine the next morning, and showered in the bathroom that was essentially just mine, since I was the only one in any of the rentable rooms this summer. I pawed through my clothes, eventually settling on a simple but nice turquoise short-sleeved shirt with little ruffles at the collar and sleeves, and a cute black tuxedo vest buttoned up over it. I went back and forth on the black and white houndstooth print dress pants, and decided to go for it, they worked really well with the outfit, and I really wanted to wear my new suede ankle-high boots. Which meant I was going to walk, rather than ride my bike today, which was fine. It looked like it was going to be a gorgeous day out, and I didn't need to show up until after lunch. Now that I'd slept in the room, it was starting to feel a little more like my own...though the thoughts that had plagued me after dinner, about how tiny my lack of a story was in that house, had made me leave the radio on low to drown out my thoughts until I could fall asleep the night before. I checked my outfit in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the bedroom door, and grinned. Very cute. I grabbed a few barrettes off my dresser and pulled back a chunk of hair from my face, pinning it off to one side. I was really happy with the changes I'd made to my hair over the past year, being on campus had really made me a lot braver in terms of my appearance.
"This is such a big house, and it felt so empty when all the kids moved out on their own," Mrs. Mayhew chatted away as we ate. "My mother used to rent out the rooms in the west wing of the house when I was growing up, traveling businesspeople or visiting clergy, a few students from the college sometimes - as long as they were of a good reputation," she added with a wink at me. I grinned. "So when she taught me how to cook, it was always for a large group of people - and I never did learn how to scale it all down!" Which was pretty clear from the table, there were six of us there (her and Mr. Mayhew, me, Caleb, one of Mr. Mayhew's friends, and the neighbor's teenage son, who'd been over helping in the barn all afternoon while Mr. Mayhew fixed the fence) and there was still way too much food, just these vast plates of vegetables and salad and fresh fruit and a giant casserole. I felt bad leaving so much on the table, but I ate until I was stuffed, it was so good...and somehow I didn't feel as guilty about over-eating here than I would on campus, this was real food! The campus stuff is so awful for you, the Freshman Fifteen totally nailed me my first semester, though I'd tried to battle it back a little last semester. But it was so hard to pass up the late-night chicken finger subs...
Caleb gave me an impish look. "She's reputable?"
I flushed a bit, and Mr. Mayhew chuckled. "More reputable than you - I should tell the Missus what you nearly did, kicking that damn ball around today."
"Now, watch your language around the boy, please!" Mrs. Mayhew scolded.
"Oh, don't you fret, Claire, if he tries repeating any of it, I still have a few bars of that lye soap you made last winter."
Caleb looked properly horrified, and everyone else laughed at the fear in his blue eyes. "That fear gained by experience, then?" Mr. Mayhew's friend asked, and Mr. Mayhew said it was indeed. Caleb looked sullen, and stabbed viciously at the string beans on his plate, muttering to himself. I had to smile, he reminded me just then of Suzy when she was younger, poor kid.
I offered to help with the dishes after dinner, and Mrs. Mayhew nearly didn't let me, but I insisted, and finally she gave in. I was really feeling pretty spoiled, and I was so used to doing dishes and cleaning at home that I felt bad just sitting back and letting her take care of everything. Anyway, it's not like I had anything else to do that night... I'd really have to start finding something productive to do with my time, I was going to get bored out of my skull pretty quick around here, even with the job. Developing film would eat up a lot of time of course, but, even though photography's what I wanted to do, I really didn't think I could spend every waking minute on it.
We talked a bit while we worked - well, mostly, she chatted, and occasionally asked me questions, but she's full of stories of the hundreds of people who've been in and out of this house. Which was cool, of course, but it was a little creepy thinking about just how many people had slept in the room that was mine for the summer. It almost made me feel a little more distant from the place, thinking about how slight my time in it really was, compared to everything else. Just one more name and a few sparse facts, just one person out of hundreds staying on for a few weeks... Oh just what my self-esteem needs! I tried to focus back on the story Mrs. Mayhew was telling, something about some distant relative and her kids, thinking one got lost when he'd really been sitting up in a tree giggling like crazy for a few hours.
I tried to be polite and pay attention and laugh in all the right places, but my mind had gotten really distracted by the thought of those vast faceless numbers of people, and how small I was in comparison to that huge pile of stories... and really, what sort of story would I leave? Nothing, really, just a mention maybe of a girl with a quirky sense of fashion who took a lot of pictures. As soon as the dishes were done, I faked being tired and yawned, saying I wanted to unpack a few more things and then call it a night. Mrs. Mayhew told me to sleep well - everyone else had scattered around the house, I could hear Mr. Mayhew and his friend trading jokes in amiable voices out on the porch, and Caleb had bolted as soon as he'd finished eating, going who knew where. Spazz of a kid. As I reached my room and started emptying a box of CDs, I wondered vaguely how he kept himself amused here, with no-one else his age around. But then I remembered all the totally random things that had occupied my own summers as a kid. Spending hours following animal tracks around the yard, catching bugs to keep in jars for a day or two (until they died, which they always did, no matter how many different kinds of leaves you stuck in there for them to eat), building forts in the most obscure places... I realized this place would be great for making forts, whether in unused rooms or out in the woods or in the barn, I wondered if Caleb had any? I'd have to poke around, and see if he'd let me help or something, that could be pretty fun.
CDs arranged neatly on their little wooden rack, I looked around the room. Really there weren't many boxes, most of the stuff in my dorm we'd just picked up and thrown into the car and brought over here. Mom had somewhat organized it all while she was making sure I had everything I needed, so there really wasn't much to do besides add all the little touches, putting knick-knacks and things around where I wanted them. I had a small stack of prints I'd made last semester sitting on the dresser, mounted on mat board, to put up on the wall. I dug around in the box sitting on the desk, and found the giant ball of postertack I'd made when taking down everything off the dorm walls. I spent a few minutes looking around the room, spreading out the pictures on the dresser, deciding where to put each one. Most of them were black and white, I'd only taken one class so far where we used color film. I still don't really feel like I've gotten the hang of black and white, it's so hard to imagine how it's going to look before you see the actual print... but that's another thing I'm supposed to work on this summer, looking at light and shadow and texture, and learn to do black and white better.
I stuck a big print of a gorgeous sunset over the dresser, where I'd see it every morning, and grinned smugly. Whatever it was Mr. Professor Steve Komp had against sunset pictures, this one was absolutely gorgeous, so there.
I rolled out of bed around nine the next morning, and showered in the bathroom that was essentially just mine, since I was the only one in any of the rentable rooms this summer. I pawed through my clothes, eventually settling on a simple but nice turquoise short-sleeved shirt with little ruffles at the collar and sleeves, and a cute black tuxedo vest buttoned up over it. I went back and forth on the black and white houndstooth print dress pants, and decided to go for it, they worked really well with the outfit, and I really wanted to wear my new suede ankle-high boots. Which meant I was going to walk, rather than ride my bike today, which was fine. It looked like it was going to be a gorgeous day out, and I didn't need to show up until after lunch. Now that I'd slept in the room, it was starting to feel a little more like my own...though the thoughts that had plagued me after dinner, about how tiny my lack of a story was in that house, had made me leave the radio on low to drown out my thoughts until I could fall asleep the night before. I checked my outfit in the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the bedroom door, and grinned. Very cute. I grabbed a few barrettes off my dresser and pulled back a chunk of hair from my face, pinning it off to one side. I was really happy with the changes I'd made to my hair over the past year, being on campus had really made me a lot braver in terms of my appearance.
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