Earth day

The first thing Sev said to me today was, “We’re having our picnic, come hell or high water.”

The lakeside was quiet, and the air was chilly today. There wasn’t rain, but there was a good number of clouds. Pen had the parchment and brushes that she’s taken to carrying with her these past few days, and she characterized the lake and the falls over to our left and the cityscape spread out across from us quite adeptly. She gave the painting to her father when it was done, as we were reclining and watching the clouds. She told him it was to take with him, so that he’d have home in his pocket.

She has a way with words, does my Pen. I should draw that out of her. Perhaps a tutor of words. Poetry is a womanly art. I still want to dismiss the calligraphy tutor. He’s a bad influence on Pen and Pang dislikes him. I can only have patience, I suppose.

Pang insisted on leaving Heiye behind, an oddity that I don’t rightly understand. Sev was happy enough to carry the baskets of food, though, and he seemed to like the solitude that came with having no servants with us.

We spent the morning preparing, and the afternoon on the lakeshore, and came back to change for dinner just as it was growing dim. Cook told me that, inbetween his errands, he’d been sitting in the dining hall again. The boy is a bit touched, but it doesn’t seem to interfere.

When the children were out of earshot, Sev was rather detailed about what we’d be doing this evening, and we went off after dinner to do just that. He returned to his own bed just a few moments ago, and I’ve only gotten up to write for a while. Sleep seems to beckon me.

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