The Good Girls Tea
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reaching the road I slowed down, and looked around, dark clouds rolling in from the northwest, cold storm coming, I could smell it in the air. Soul cleansing rain. Just what I needed after today. To the left of me a large pond and the fields color pale yellow with specks of green. Spring won’t be too long now. Winter season clouds my mind. I’m sure ready for warmer weather. Walking up my gravel drive, I can’t wait to rest my eyes. Home at last. I light a fire, in my wide mouth double sided fire place. Cold storm a coming, this will fight the chills. I make a cup of lavender tea with honey and a slice of fresh ginger root. The aroma is perfect, almost heavenly during this cold and stormy evening.
Sitting down by the fire on my wide stone built in bench padded for comfort with hand made pillows and a bench cushion. Definitely going to be warm soon. Sipping tea by the fireside. The storm has really blown in fast, I say to myself. Shaking the chills off was easy but my thoughts keep going back to the women on the path. What did she mean I left her there? I don’t even know her. Her sadness seemed to consume my tired mind, her words brought the chills back. The storm has arrived , I thought, as my farm swing open windows, blew open and rain came blowing in. Cold rain on top of this day, must I even say this is a dismay. I Jump up, quickly close them and clean up the water that lays. The fire is at a roar. I close the chimney shoot just a little.
What a night, as if I needed anything more to rattle my bones. Her image so vivid in my head. Shes calling for me, I can feel it. As I look out the window I can almost see her standing at the end of the drive. What does she want? Who is she? Why is she haunting me now? I fear it’s more then I can handle. Lady with no shadow, must you haunt my soul. Shaken up, be the power, terror the only shadow you bare. Lady with the sunken eyes, must you be this image in my head? Lady, please let me rest in my bed. For not yet you appear this night, but only in the darkest of my mind, you linger. Cold bones and ghostly chills, you lay upon my spine. I may never know, and that be, my fear.
This night won’t end, come morning I shall seek this disturbance you have clouded me with, to find truth, I must. This night be, my fears. Dawn couldn’t be close enough for rest is not allowed. The thunder shudders through me snapping me out of this dreariness. Only for a moment I notice the rain now at a steady calming pour, drip, drip, drip. Now a leak to fix. I rush to the kitchen for some paper tape, it’s a little fix for tonight. The window broke near the top, wood dampened, there is no helping the drip. Adding enough to stop the sound. Thinking I’ll play some old records on my old heirloom High-fi now. It was my Nanas. Old Jazz plays softly in the living space. Headed to bed now, up my spiral iron stair case, to my master loft. Barely awake just thinking of the slumber to follow on my four post hand carved framed, sized for a queen. As I lay down I don’t even bother to turn off the soft golden glowing lamp, barely covering my head with my comforter. I pass into dreamland.
The small ten acre farm was given to me when my nana died. It came with a cozy yet spacious stones cottage my grandpa built for her. When I was young I remember how hard he worked on this small land. To make it seem so big and profitable, he built a barn (which still looked fairly new). Which held some goats and cows and a few horses. He built a chicken coop closer to the house for nana to tend to. Which she did and she loved all those years. Now I had it and it was my job to tend too, at least it was only the chickens now and two Clydesdale horses I saved for, my whole life. What beauty’s they are. Male and female. Mona, and Merlot. Most of about three acres are beautiful mature woods, and the other two back acres have the barn and vegetables gardens every year. I have recently built a fairly decent size green house next to the barn for harvest season and my plants I love. It’s a space I enjoy well in the hotter months. The long gravel drive curves back behind the house and my grandpas hand made fencing marks the land for the animals to enjoy it all.
My name is Rosetta Winter Garthy and this is my home now.
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