I have four sisters beyond the sea; Rowan and birch and apple tree

As Shoe once so wisely stated:  “Typists type. Writers stare out of windows.”

So. . .I’ve been writing.

I’ve made some notes for Carousel Sun, figured out the park schedule and how much time has elapsed since the end of Carousel Tides, wondered whether Kate takes the Journal-Trib or the Port Press, and moved a bunch of CT research files and notes from out of the bottom file drawer of doom into a filing crate, for ease of access.

Among the notes are the lyrics for “Beech and Willow” (also known as “I have Four Sisters Beyond the Sea”).  No, I don’t know why.

I also found, in the same file, the following, which is gorgeous.  And, no, I don’t know why I have it, either.

Her strong enchantments failing,
her towers of fear in wreck,
her limbecks dried of poisons
and the knife at her neck.

The Queen of air and darkness
begins to shrill and cry,
‘O, young man, O my slayer,
to-morrow you shall die.’

O Queen of air and darkness,
I think ’tis truth you say,
and I shall die to-morrow;
but you will die to-day.

–A.E. Housman

Also, if anyone needs a recipe for Sour Fiddlehead Pickles, I’ve got you covered.

In other news, orders for the Archers Beach t-shirt have broken 100! If you have yet to score one of this summer’s premier fashion statements, you have scant hours! to secure your place among the Beautiful People of 2012. Everything you need is right here.

It’s been warmish today, for Maine values thereof. I hope that those of you in places where it’s Unfotunately Hot stay cool and healthy.

And, now? Back to staring out the window writing.

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