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a raccoon bite (non-rabid; the hunter had knocked the coon out of a tree, thought it was dead, and went to pick it up, only to discover that it wasn’t. The raccoon was mad, but not in any infectious sense).
“A Naoimh Micheal Àirdaingeal, dìon sinn anns an àm a’ chatha,”
He’s likely always been the biggest in any company he finds himself in. So he’s likely never had to care whether folk like him or not.
“Aye. Ye should ha’ seen the carry-on when Claire insisted on scalding Amy’s privy wi’ boiling water and lye soap and pourin’ turpentine into it after the Crombie lad left.” His shoulders rose toward his ears in memory. “If she was to do that every time we had sick folk in our privy, we’d all be shitting in the woods, too.”
“Frodo Baggins,” he read aloud, and looked up, baffled. “A Welshman?”
“If the author thought it was worth his writing it down, then it’s worth my reading it. I dinna mean to miss a single word.”
Bree and Roger looked at each other, then at us. “Is there more wine?” Roger asked.
Spit it out already... JESUS H ROOSEVELT CHRIST
And just what will Papa do when he sees this…this…fruit of his whoremongering loins?
But really though
He hadn’t found peace, but the effort his mind made to avoid thinking about his paternity, his title, his responsibilities, the goddamned shape of the rest of his life, and now Lord fucking John’s bloody fucking son had caused it instead to squirm off in the other direction, latching on to the problem of Ben.
Cry me a river william ransom
“WHAT IS NOT GOOD FOR THE SWARM IS NOT GOOD FOR THE BEE” (MARCUS AURELIUS)
“Bees is the smartest kind of bug they is.”
All this talk about bees
“We’ve company for dinner, and as it’s John Quincy…” His face lighted. “Myers?” he said, handing me the bag of rabbits. “Did ye inquire after his balls?”
Of course thats the first thing he asks lol
What it comes down to, I’d say, is you can bless your bees any way as seems fit to you. The only important thing—and you maybe know this already—is that you got to talk to ’em regular.”
Go tell the bees
“Bees are real sociable,” Myers explained, and blew one of them gently off the back of his hand. “And they’re curious, which only makes sense, them goin’ back and forth and gatherin’ news with their pollen. So you tell ’em what’s happening—if someone’s come a-visitin’, if a new babe’s been born, if anybody new was to settle or a settler depart—or die. See, if somebody leaves or dies,” he explained, brushing a bee off my shoulder, “and you don’t tell the bees, they take offense, and the whole lot of ’em will fly right off.”
“Your uncle William fell into a privy some years ago, and wasna best pleased about it.”
Lol i remember that. Brat deserved it in hindsight
Jamie appeared on the threshold, holding Adso the cat,
