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I am a busy bee in the RW these days running the Guest House for my mission home office as well as working as a writer/copy editor in the office. I have a tiny bit of a break this weekend before it begins to get REALLY bad! Kind of reminds me of the first week on the job here, back in November after we had barely moved in; I had a conversation with Boromir on that occasion, which I repost here...
Linawen's New Job
Here's a little paraphrase of a familiar text to let you know what I have been up to since moving last week. The original text comes from the FOTR chapter "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony."
Boromir went forward into the private guest house, and nearly bumped into a medium-height, not-so-fat woman with long hair bound up on top of her head, and face flushed red with exertion. She had a white apron on, and was bustling out of one door and in through another, carrying a tray laden with mugs in one hand and clean bedding under her other arm.
"May I ---- " began Boromir.
"Half a minute, if you please!" shouted the woman over her shoulder, and vanished into the kitchen. In a moment she was out again, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Good evening!" she said, craning her neck to look up at the tall warrior. "What may you be wanting?"
"A moment of your time, for one thing, and an inkling for Monday, if that can be managed. You are Linaewen, are you not?"
"That's right, and don't pretend you didn't recognize me! I'm run off my feet; but I'll see what I can do for you. I don't have nearly enough time nowadays to write like I used to, what with having moved and all, and still so much unpacking and setting up to do. But there is such a crowd already in the house tonight as there hasn't been for long enough. It never rains but it pours, we say in Wisconsin."
"Yes, we say that in Minas Tirith as well," said Boromir, trying to cut in quickly; but Linaewen went on without a break.
"Well, now, what was I saying?" said Linaewen, tapping her forehead. "One thing drives out another, so to speak. I'm that busy tonight, my head is going round. There's that party that came the day after we moved in, just in from the Far East -- and us barely unpacked and I was having to cook meals and make beds. Then there's a travelling family about to move overseas coming in this evening, I was just going to get their rooms ready. And now there's you, wanting an inkling. If you weren't Boromir, I doubt if I could help you. But..."
"But...?"
"Well, you know I can't refuse when you want a moment of my time. I will see what I can do. Perhaps after the guests have arrived from the airport and are settled, I can sit with you for a bit. I won't be able to manage a new inkling this week, but perhaps we can dig up something interesting. I hope that will suit? Excuse me now. I'm that busy. No time for talking or writing inklings. I must be trotting. It's hard work for two legs, but luckily, I think I'm getting thinner! I'll look in again later."
Off she went at last, leaving Boromir feeling rather breathless. Linaewen seemed capable of an endless stream of talk, however busy she might be.
"And she has not yet even begun her work in the writing department at the office," sighed Boromir. "This does not bode well for the writing of inklings."
He sighed again, then snagged a mug from Linaewen's tray as she passed by on her way back to the kitchen.
"I may as well have a mug of something while I wait," Boromir said, as he headed for the coffeemaker. "I hear the coffee is good in this establishment."
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Just call me Barliman.
Linawen's New Job
Here's a little paraphrase of a familiar text to let you know what I have been up to since moving last week. The original text comes from the FOTR chapter "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony."
Boromir went forward into the private guest house, and nearly bumped into a medium-height, not-so-fat woman with long hair bound up on top of her head, and face flushed red with exertion. She had a white apron on, and was bustling out of one door and in through another, carrying a tray laden with mugs in one hand and clean bedding under her other arm.
"May I ---- " began Boromir.
"Half a minute, if you please!" shouted the woman over her shoulder, and vanished into the kitchen. In a moment she was out again, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Good evening!" she said, craning her neck to look up at the tall warrior. "What may you be wanting?"
"A moment of your time, for one thing, and an inkling for Monday, if that can be managed. You are Linaewen, are you not?"
"That's right, and don't pretend you didn't recognize me! I'm run off my feet; but I'll see what I can do for you. I don't have nearly enough time nowadays to write like I used to, what with having moved and all, and still so much unpacking and setting up to do. But there is such a crowd already in the house tonight as there hasn't been for long enough. It never rains but it pours, we say in Wisconsin."
"Yes, we say that in Minas Tirith as well," said Boromir, trying to cut in quickly; but Linaewen went on without a break.
"Well, now, what was I saying?" said Linaewen, tapping her forehead. "One thing drives out another, so to speak. I'm that busy tonight, my head is going round. There's that party that came the day after we moved in, just in from the Far East -- and us barely unpacked and I was having to cook meals and make beds. Then there's a travelling family about to move overseas coming in this evening, I was just going to get their rooms ready. And now there's you, wanting an inkling. If you weren't Boromir, I doubt if I could help you. But..."
"But...?"
"Well, you know I can't refuse when you want a moment of my time. I will see what I can do. Perhaps after the guests have arrived from the airport and are settled, I can sit with you for a bit. I won't be able to manage a new inkling this week, but perhaps we can dig up something interesting. I hope that will suit? Excuse me now. I'm that busy. No time for talking or writing inklings. I must be trotting. It's hard work for two legs, but luckily, I think I'm getting thinner! I'll look in again later."
Off she went at last, leaving Boromir feeling rather breathless. Linaewen seemed capable of an endless stream of talk, however busy she might be.
"And she has not yet even begun her work in the writing department at the office," sighed Boromir. "This does not bode well for the writing of inklings."
He sighed again, then snagged a mug from Linaewen's tray as she passed by on her way back to the kitchen.
"I may as well have a mug of something while I wait," Boromir said, as he headed for the coffeemaker. "I hear the coffee is good in this establishment."
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Just call me Barliman.
