Post by joanne on May 11, 2010 10:02:24 GMT -5
joanne{ST} rises quietly, brown eyes lowered as she slips into the kitchen, the soft patter of her feet echoing through the tavern as she crosses the stone floor. With a sassy sway to her hips she takes up the broom, fingers wrapping around the smooth wood of the handle. Dancing back into the main room she sets the broom shortly to the side, humming softly as she sets about collecting the furs.
joanne{ST} shivers as the cold evening air wraps around her naked flesh, slender arms hanging the furs out to air, with the wind playing in the soft strands of her hair as she moves back into the home. Taking up another armful of furs she does a small set of dance steps and slips back into the darkened garden, the herb bed a play of shadows in the darkness.
joanne{ST} hangs the furs out on a line strung extra for the furs, its thickness strong enough to support the weight of the furs, but smooth enough not to damage the leather, hanging the last fur out to air she slips back into the home. With a soft whispering voice she sings a short tune, her steps in time as she takes up the broom and dances it over the stone floor.
joanne{ST} glides the bristles of the broom over the stones, guiding the broom into the corners and around the legs of the table with a practice twist of her wrists, brown eyes sparkling softly as she watches the bristles collect and tease the dust into a pile. A moments glance to the door of the office of Lady Solveig before she dances the broom over the area where the white larl furs would normally lay.
joanne{ST} hums softly as the broom becomes her partner, practising a quick figure as she dances through the main room, blushing profusely as she takes the broom properly into her hands and finishes collecting the dust from the floor. Stepping quickly into the kitchen she places the broom back into its place before bending low to scoop up the small hand broom and shovel. Looking to the pile of laundry...
joanne{ST} steps back into the main room of the home, using the shovel and broom to collect the dust from the stone floor. With an impish glance around her she shakes her head and tosses the dust safely into the bin before returning the shovel and hand broom to their place. Laughing softly as she drags the heavy wash tub to the back door, she steps into it, warm eyes dancing with mischievous delight.
joanne{ST} fills the large kettle with water, struggling with its weight as she hangs it over the fire to boil, with a soft laugh she collects two buckets and heads to the stream...a soft voice fades into the distance, followed by the squeals of playful terror and splashing of water...
joanne{ST} laughs happily as she sets the one of the buckets down and pours the cold water of the other into the large tub, casting suggestive wink over her shoulder to someone in the distance she empties the second bucket of it's clear contents. Snatching up the empty buckets before dashing off to the stream again, pausing long enough to see that the kettle is not yet boiling.
joanne{ST} laughs as she dances back into the yard of the tavern, dumping the contents of the buckets into the tub and placing the buckets down...with an old rep cloth towel she dries herself down and hurries into the kitchen and collects the whistling kettle. Moving cautiously to the bucket she pours the steaming water into the tub to take the chill of the washing water.
joanne{ST} refills the kettle with a contented sigh as she sets it back onto boil for blackwine. Lifting the basket of linen onto her hip, she balances it as she moves to the tub, grinning as she dumps the blankets and covers into the water, and tossing in two handfuls of soap flakes...with a playful dance around the tub she takes up the paddle, swirling and swishing the linens until they are emerged.
joanne{ST} takes the rubbing board out of its place and slides it into the water, taking up the first of the white linens, she rubs it with a smooth, unbroken motion over the ribs of the board, the sounds bringing back childhood memories as her small hands move with a practiced ease over the board, wringing, dunking and rubbing the cloth until it is clean. Placing it into the woven basket.
joanne{ST} takes a cover of somewhat finer linen, her hands gliding the cloth of the ribbing of the board with more care, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night as she hums softly, the tune light and playful as she continues to work the cloth over the scrubbing boarding, pausing to rinse the finer cloth, seperating it from the other linens, she places it still dripping into a second basket
joanne{ST} pauses long enough to check the finely stitched edge of the linen. Finding now changes to the design she sets it down...brown eyes rising and glancing into the kitchen as she hears the kettle screaming out its readiness. Lifting gracefully to her feet, she glides towards the fire, the soft light dancing over her ivory flesh as she lifts the kettle from the hook.
joanne{ST} pours the steaming water into a pot as she smiles happily, the steam swirling around her as she adds a measured amount of blackwine to the pot. Stirring the contents with the ladel she whistles somewhat out of tune and turns the kettle upside down to drain properly. Stepping back into the night shadows she folds to her knees and takes up the next linen.
joanne{ST} runs her hands through the linen, the coarse material like silk against her skin as she scrubs it over the ribbing, plunging it into the water she hums softly as she works the linen over the board, pausing to check for marks that may need special attention to remove, with a quick twist of her wrists she wringes the water from the linen and tosses it into the first basket...
joanne{ST} rises quietly and slips off to see to her children, taking the last linen from the tub and hanging it over the line, making a note to finish the task.
joanne{ST} shivers as the cold evening air wraps around her naked flesh, slender arms hanging the furs out to air, with the wind playing in the soft strands of her hair as she moves back into the home. Taking up another armful of furs she does a small set of dance steps and slips back into the darkened garden, the herb bed a play of shadows in the darkness.
joanne{ST} hangs the furs out on a line strung extra for the furs, its thickness strong enough to support the weight of the furs, but smooth enough not to damage the leather, hanging the last fur out to air she slips back into the home. With a soft whispering voice she sings a short tune, her steps in time as she takes up the broom and dances it over the stone floor.
joanne{ST} glides the bristles of the broom over the stones, guiding the broom into the corners and around the legs of the table with a practice twist of her wrists, brown eyes sparkling softly as she watches the bristles collect and tease the dust into a pile. A moments glance to the door of the office of Lady Solveig before she dances the broom over the area where the white larl furs would normally lay.
joanne{ST} hums softly as the broom becomes her partner, practising a quick figure as she dances through the main room, blushing profusely as she takes the broom properly into her hands and finishes collecting the dust from the floor. Stepping quickly into the kitchen she places the broom back into its place before bending low to scoop up the small hand broom and shovel. Looking to the pile of laundry...
joanne{ST} steps back into the main room of the home, using the shovel and broom to collect the dust from the stone floor. With an impish glance around her she shakes her head and tosses the dust safely into the bin before returning the shovel and hand broom to their place. Laughing softly as she drags the heavy wash tub to the back door, she steps into it, warm eyes dancing with mischievous delight.
joanne{ST} fills the large kettle with water, struggling with its weight as she hangs it over the fire to boil, with a soft laugh she collects two buckets and heads to the stream...a soft voice fades into the distance, followed by the squeals of playful terror and splashing of water...
joanne{ST} laughs happily as she sets the one of the buckets down and pours the cold water of the other into the large tub, casting suggestive wink over her shoulder to someone in the distance she empties the second bucket of it's clear contents. Snatching up the empty buckets before dashing off to the stream again, pausing long enough to see that the kettle is not yet boiling.
joanne{ST} laughs as she dances back into the yard of the tavern, dumping the contents of the buckets into the tub and placing the buckets down...with an old rep cloth towel she dries herself down and hurries into the kitchen and collects the whistling kettle. Moving cautiously to the bucket she pours the steaming water into the tub to take the chill of the washing water.
joanne{ST} refills the kettle with a contented sigh as she sets it back onto boil for blackwine. Lifting the basket of linen onto her hip, she balances it as she moves to the tub, grinning as she dumps the blankets and covers into the water, and tossing in two handfuls of soap flakes...with a playful dance around the tub she takes up the paddle, swirling and swishing the linens until they are emerged.
joanne{ST} takes the rubbing board out of its place and slides it into the water, taking up the first of the white linens, she rubs it with a smooth, unbroken motion over the ribs of the board, the sounds bringing back childhood memories as her small hands move with a practiced ease over the board, wringing, dunking and rubbing the cloth until it is clean. Placing it into the woven basket.
joanne{ST} takes a cover of somewhat finer linen, her hands gliding the cloth of the ribbing of the board with more care, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night as she hums softly, the tune light and playful as she continues to work the cloth over the scrubbing boarding, pausing to rinse the finer cloth, seperating it from the other linens, she places it still dripping into a second basket
joanne{ST} pauses long enough to check the finely stitched edge of the linen. Finding now changes to the design she sets it down...brown eyes rising and glancing into the kitchen as she hears the kettle screaming out its readiness. Lifting gracefully to her feet, she glides towards the fire, the soft light dancing over her ivory flesh as she lifts the kettle from the hook.
joanne{ST} pours the steaming water into a pot as she smiles happily, the steam swirling around her as she adds a measured amount of blackwine to the pot. Stirring the contents with the ladel she whistles somewhat out of tune and turns the kettle upside down to drain properly. Stepping back into the night shadows she folds to her knees and takes up the next linen.
joanne{ST} runs her hands through the linen, the coarse material like silk against her skin as she scrubs it over the ribbing, plunging it into the water she hums softly as she works the linen over the board, pausing to check for marks that may need special attention to remove, with a quick twist of her wrists she wringes the water from the linen and tosses it into the first basket...
joanne{ST} rises quietly and slips off to see to her children, taking the last linen from the tub and hanging it over the line, making a note to finish the task.