I miss the evenings sitting on the balcony at ZanderKrak, looking out as the sun went down. A glass of something each (Silver Dragon and Cider, as I recall) and the big jugs on the floor for refills. Teva was usually Weaving and we had moglets wandering round our feet.
I miss the long talks over stories, and the hurried writing of filks, and the sun going down as we sang, and the chill of evening, swirling round, till it forced us inside, for boglais and trop.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2008-10-09 07:53 am (UTC)I miss the long talks over stories, and the hurried writing of filks, and the sun going down as we sang, and the chill of evening, swirling round, till it forced us inside, for boglais and trop.