Remember how Stephanie once told Edison that: “People like to tell me stuff?” It’s not always stuff that she wants to hear.
Friday, Stephanie and Anya get dressed and find out something they have in common. Then they…
ah, but that would be telling, wouldn’t it? You’ll just have to wait and see.
Speaking of Friday, this weekend is Norwegian Constitution Day, which is a huge party here in my hometown.
They spoke norwegian there until WW2!? That’s so cool.
On a relevent note, I really like the technique you’re using here. Having the dialogue paint the picture of what you can’t see inside the house. Well done. 🙂
Yes, and, according to some folk, as late as the 60’s, if you weren’t Norwegian you were basically shut out of the local society.
Also, Poulsbo got its name when Ivar Moe applied for a post office, and the first time he spelled “Poulsbo” he crossed from the “o” to the “u” over the top of the letter (which made it an “o”) rather than from the bottom (which would’ve made it an “a”).
Just goes to show the importance of good penmanship.
Despite the gloomy overcast (Charlie does live on the Pacific Coast), there are a lot of wonderful things happening among the ‘groovy’ residents of Innesmount.
The ‘girl bonding’ between Anya and Stephanie is fun stuff. Anya loves being surrounded by children and it seems like Stephanie has found a ‘grandma’. Big smiles for both of them!
Eleanor is ‘sobering up’ the lovers (emotionally speaking). She seems genuinely concerned for their welfare and survival as a couple, almost like a ‘mom’. It’s probably the closest she’s ever been to love (‘lovely’ doesn’t count).
And as for Larry, “Eleanor, I . . . thank you.”
Now, if Esther could just get over that ‘lusting for Larry’ thing.
When I was 30 years old, I was introduced to a beautiful young graduate student attending LSU. At the time, I was a working as a Technical Writer/Illustrator/Engineer and studying life-drawing at Sophie Newcomb College. One day, ‘Mosey’ asked to see my ‘portfolio’. I showed her about twenty of my ‘finished’, nude studies (finishing means knowing when to exile the pen from the paper) and she asked if I would do one of her. I had reservations, but she insisted. Mosey was 5’-10” with flawless white skin, blue eyes, and glistening straw-colored braids that reached down to her . . . bum. When I gave her the completed drawing (Sepia ink on hot-press) she smiled said, “I’m going to hide this in the attic. When my grand-children discover it, they’ll see what I looked like when I was 23.”
Mosey’s family name was Moe and her father worked for Boeing . . . Seattle.
Hmmm, we have a “Moe” street, right around the corner.