Radishes are tasty

Colin and I lay awake in bed, holding each other. He seems to like rubbing his thumb over my left ring finger and though I like feeling his touch, I like not feeling it for just that small moment. Because it means that we are engaged.

I squeeze him really tight for just a moment, just at the thought that we are engaged. I do love knowing that. Even though I love him very much and I know he loves me very much, the thought that we are engaged makes me feel so very light and overflowing.

"I think I would like to fetch some for Dad's hearth as well," I whisper into the dark room.

"Fetch some what?" he asks, his voice also a whisper.

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Colin and I have been alternating fetching the advent mistletoe. I explained to him that the hearth of the main room is the place where the mistletoe is hung for Christmas, and so should be left bare until then, but every other place is perfectly alright.

As today is an odd day, and I have odd days, I hung the mistletoe while he was asleep. We lay in the pantry now, snuggling and kissing under the mistletoe when I say, "We should fetch our Christmas tree today."

"We should," he nods, kissing me again. "When do you want to go?"

"Somewhere in a forest with spruces," I reply, kissing him back. "Do you know where spruces are?"

"We can find one. Dad, Dennis, and I usually go to a place where they sell Christmas trees, but we can go to a forest," he offers, running his fingers through my hair.

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I wait until Colin is asleep and then slide out of bed. It is very, very early on the first day of December and there is something I must do before another thing is done.

I walk to the hearth where I had set my robes to stay warm, and dress quietly, so I do not wake him. Then I toe into my slippers and sneak through the hall, up the stairs, through the sitting room, and take my cloak and scarf from the cloak room. Then I go up the last bit of stairs and apparate to where I had seen a perfect place before.

The tree is very tall. I cast a small insect-foot charm on my fingers so that they will stick to the tree as I climb. Then I pocket my wand and climb up and up until I have reached the large bundle of mistletoe.

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I do not know when Colin is coming home from his trip. He was not sure how long it would be and I know that he took several rolls of film with him and will most likely use them all, so it will take a very long time to develope all the pictures.

I wanted to have something special made for when he came back, but I suppose having a bowl of sex truffles by the bed will do. And so I have had it by the bed for the last few days as I sit in the library and research and read with the door open to let the heat in.

I hear the sound of a door and then a voice call out. "Luna?" Then the sound of footsteps quickly coming down the staircase, almost running.

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I had slept the entire night of my memory, which was really into the afternoon of the actual day. When the memory ended, I think I just slept, though it is difficult to be conscious of yourself sleeping when you are not dreaming. I do know that when I awoke, the lake was glowing like the sapphire gem of the afternoon and I was alone.

I took a very quick shower, not enjoying it as I usually do, and alone, and then dressed for a trip into town to buy supplies and pay the last amount that I owed for the cauldron.

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It is already Monday morning and Colin leaves today. We have shared our time together as much as we were able ever since he gave me the news about his trip, and it has been wonderful though we are both a bit sore.

I have been awake all night, though I am quite tired. He will be gone in less than a few hours now, and I do not want to waste a moment with him. Though sleeping is perfectly nice, I can sleep later. I just want to watch Colin.

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I have an entire journal filled with facts on sex, from when I had been studying for the truffles and before. It has always been a topic that has interested me, because it is a way to share love, and transform the emotional feelings of love into physical feelings of love. In theory, it had been quite interesting. I remember how deeply Daddy felt for Mum and how she felt for him, and knew that the emotions were quite spectacular, to want to be always with somebody and always want to see them happy. That there was a way to express these inner feelings through actions that are only for the two people, that the act fits the two people together so closely like a puzzle that is made complete, and that it is one of the most wonderful experiences.

And I am happy that such a wonderful thing is something that Colin and I share so often together. If there is a way to make such an incredible connection even more wonderful, then I should like to for us, and for everybody who loves each other in the world. That is why I am glad that, even though I have no books to research in, Colin and I made such extensive notes while we were studying for the truffles.

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Colin and I are lying on our bed, as it is the most comfortable place to be. His head is on my stomach and he is asleep, but I am looking at the window and the blue light that is coming in dim through the lake.

His hair is soft, I think as I run my fingers through it. A school of fish swims by us and pauses just long enough for the light to glimmer off their scales. I turn my head very slightly and breathe in the smell of our blankets, the side where Colin sleeps. I think about how I didn't really used to think of myself as having a side and how quickly it became a part of me. When I snuck into Colin's room when we lived with Dad, he was always on one side and I always slipped into the other side.

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The stew is nearly done now and it smells lovely. I started to prepare it when Colin left to see his clients today. He has been gone a very long time and I was hoping during lunchtime that he has remembered to eat. Sometimes he gets so excited about photography that he forgets, and I think it is very sweet, but it is also very important to eat.

The salad does not have much lettuce in it. It is mostly cucumbers and celery and radishes. Perhaps I have made too much. If I have, the stew will store nicely in the cooling closet. It is like the ice box that Dad has at his house, but it sticks into an underground stream, which is very cool, and it is kept chill just by the temperature of the water. It is very clever of the McCains to make it such.

It being stew, it is simple to let it sit on a low heat and read while it is finishing. However, the smell of the stew and the wamth of the fire is making me rather drowsy and my head is nodding over the book until I am laying my head on the coffee table book table.

I sit in the library, opening the coffee table book and looking through the pictures. There are many tables in here that would be most helpful. Colin and I have very few pieces of furniture. I suppose after we have taken care of food and work needs, we should start to save for furniture.

I feel a pinch and reach inside my pocket for the phial of potion I was able to afford to make this time. I do find the time of month to be painful and boring and long, but the absense of such times are telling of things that we are not ready for, so I am glad for them, even if it means that Colin and I must abstain.

I sigh and look out the window into the water of Loch Ness. It has been such a very long time since my last idea for an invention. If I am to expect to make a living on my inventions, what good will it be to me if I am unable to think of things to invent?

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