Ships That Pass in the Night

Sometimes it seems that Gwyn and I are ships that pass in the night, we see each other so seldom. Albeit, this involves less shouting, less waving of flags and signal lamps and less of all the other ways sailors say “get out of the fucking way, I’m coming through”. I am, perhaps, exaggerating a bit there, and distorting the truth. In reality, I rarely got involved in such things unless I happened to be on deck having a quiet smoke at the time. Perhaps there are better metaphors, but they escape me at the moment. Suffice to say that I was able to spend time with my beloved recently, something that happens all too rarely.

She spent some time recently showing me round the developments in Awenia. A small cluster of buildings that look to have been transported here from some historic town in Olde England of the Tudor period. It put me in mind of Lacock and Warwick and similar places we used to visit when I was a child and even as a young man. I have always liked that style of building, perhaps because I am so fond of wood as a material. I am not so sure it is how I might have envisaged faerie, from the point of view of an outsider. In truth, I do not know quite what I would have envisaged. I had read many stories of faerie as a child and a youth, but I thought more of the characters than their environment. If pressed, I would have imagined castles with pointed towers and castles, houses made of mushrooms and trees, or maybe architecture in the Perpendicular style, only made of glass and crystal. Such things are entirely possible, given the changeable nature of my home.

That said, there is a sense of magic about a Tudor style setting. I could well imagine elves and goblins sitting around a tavern table, planning an adventure, a twinkly old man selling magic potions. As Gwyn said, this will be a place for the tourists and it will serve very well for that. We walked around what will be the Welcome Centre. A place, as yet uncluttered by posters and brochures and such like things that I have seen in tourist attractions in the modern day. At least, those few I have visited in the mundane world.

Oh yes, brochures and such. There will be a need for those. All the rules and such I am putting into the Accords will be of no use if there are not guides for our visitors. They need to know what they can and can’t do, what they can and can’t eat and such like. We don’t want people being stuck here for seven years because they picked the wrong apple. Writing such things will fall to me. I am content with that. It will be pleasant change from the very dry and tedious language of the Accords. I remarked on this to Gwyn and she said she was very happy that it was down to me to deal with such things while all she had to do was to smile and say “look at my pretty place.” So typical of her to underestimate her worth. I told her that nobody would be looking at the pretty architecture while she was around.

We had to part ways then. I had yet another conference call with the BSA and she had more pretty things that needed to be photographed. And off she sailed, my beautiful faerie queen, and yet, as I told her in parting, still the pint-sized, potty-mouthed polymath I fell in love with. Yes, that girl was still there, albeit taller and more beautiful, telling me in her parting that I might still be the ‘posh fuck’ she married. Yes, we are well suited, despite all that has changed since we first met and of that I am very glad.


Ships That Pass In The Night


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