Dear Diary,
Today was so splendid I couldn't stand it! The weather was perfect, honest, you could not ask for better weather then today's. The birds sang in the trees, the flowers bloomed, the skies were clear and bluer then even my bluest thread. Although Ar is undergoing some sort of trouble of a political nature, which I am politely ignoring since it is almost always undergoing some sort of political trouble, the people seemed favorably effected by this gorgeousness of nature, and well they ought!
I woke to the sound of birds and ate a light breakfast of fresh melon, sprinkled with a little sugar. Since it is the fifth day of the hand, I did not bother going down to the shop, but had the entire day to luxuriate. I wondered what Faboo does on the day off? Doubtless my brother keeps him gainfully employed, it does not due to let slaves idle all the day long, though if you ask me, he deserves some time off. I guess that is what kajirualia is for?
I read through two books, one of them had the most darling pictures, so sweetly formed and pretty, it was hard to look at the words. And that was fine, since it was a book on tarnraces, and the subject does not greatly intrigue me. I like the pictures though, it gives me good design ideas. So strange the amount of women that request stylish faction patches for the races! I do not know why any would want to watch those blood-soaked sporting events. I can understand why the wealthy might, they usually sponsor them, and I suppose a few enjoy wagering on anything. But if you ask me, leave the tarns to the men! Horrid beasts!
After reading, I dropped by the Whimsy for a spot of tea, and Hillary was there. She thanked me for the return of her books and then offered a new one. I declined; love and romance interest me slightly less then tarnraces do. And there are not even any pretty pictures to distract one from the tripe of the printed word. They are all the same, those romances. Some spirited woman secretly years to be swept off her feet, and when she least expects it, but the reader most expects it, some tarnsman, pirate, dashing warrior, plains man, pasha or jarl enters her life. At first there is always strife as he demands she be warm and docile like a kajira, but he is intrigued by her eyes. At some point he steals a peek at her ankles, and at another the rogue lifts her veils to kiss her lips. She ends up bringing out the strong caring side in him, and he stirs her warmth, and they end up getting companioned without a contractual ending and birth triplets.
Bunch of hogwash if you ask me. Honestly, no wonder free women detest slaves so, if that is the silly nonsense floating about in their heads.
After tea, I strolled the gardens which are now in high bloom. The light from above was a bit warming in the veils, so at midday I retired to my apartment, threw open the window, and took a nap to the sounds of the street below. A very light breeze comforted me, I enjoyed the feeling of air upon my face.
Toward evening, I prepared a nice light soup and a salad for supper, and I wrote two more chapters on my own embroidery book. It won't come close to mother's of course, but I like how it is turning out thus far.
I think I shall sleep now, diary dear, the moons are high and the night still. Such balmy evenings suit me. Perhaps I might consider a vacation next winter in Bazi?
A day in the Life