Also Spring, Week 3 - Here Yet Not Here

Here's the video on how I wrote the Here Yet Not Here episoide:

Rainy days. A part of me knows they are absolutely necessary to keep things green and lush. And they tend to keep everyone indoors so there's far fewer chances of anyone doing anything that would end up bringing them here. For me, it meant lingering in bed, then getting a comfortable fire going - a warm dry room against the wet chill outside is just lovely. It was a good time to reflect on the past couple of weeks, to spend some time coming to terms with myself and my witchy role, and getting to know MouseEye better.

I'd made an actual small house on my mantlepiece. It wasn't much - a few sticks, some string to keep the pieces together, and the little things I'd gathered for it. So maybe "house" was too much word for the lean-to it actually was, but on the other hand it was a structure, I'd made it intending for it to be a house, and most importantly, I'd made it. Pride of ownership, pride of craftsmanship. And I should add pride of potionship!

I poured myself a tea then set a second cup under my lean-to. House! My house! My lean house.

And I guess that's a thing too. I did have, again, a bit of money in my pocket. But to be able to afford much more in terms of tools or upgrading of equipment, I'd have to live a bit lean for a time.

No matter - I was used to that sort of living.

Going from having no money - and having little concept of how much things cost - to having money and seeing exactly how much things cost! - back to having a little money - it was all a lot to take in. But I'd bought a hive, an investment I know will pay dividends well into the future, and my next purchases (when I can finally afford them) will do the same. Maybe I didn't know the value of a piece of silver but I did know the value of basic math!

And speaking of math... and things not adding up (nice segue, I think) - there's the matter of the Smooth Croak in my pocket to feed the weird chest thing. I know I hadn't put it there, so there was only one way it'd ended up there - MouseEye. How had he known I'd need it?

After I'd taken some time to just sit and think and do some deep breathing, I asked MouseEye about it.

He was laying under the lean-to (House!!!), eyes half-closed (appropriate for being under a half-house), when I asked the question. His eyes didn't open as he responded. "Getting it into your pocket was simple. You didn't even notice the spoon you walked around with all that day. As to why I put it there... you know how the bees and I talked and we understood each other even though we don't speak each other's languages? It was like that - I just knew I had to do it. So I did. And I think you experienced something of the sort with the bees. Same basic thing."

That was something. Maybe it had something to do with the land? Did it somehow know things ahead of time? Or maybe MouseEye did? I knew there were bound to be surprises related to the cottage but this was more than I'd anticipated!

"Is that how you knew I'd be fine with the sphinx?"

"Mmhmm."

"So what about inside Hero's Hollow? Did you know that was going to happen?"

MouseEye opened his eyes. "I know little bits here and there. I don't know everything. Especially when they go wrong."

"But you knew I'd be ok down there, right? You knew I'd be safe?"

He closed his eyes and didn't answer.

After a minute, I murmured to myself, "I'll take that as a 'no'."

The silence felt awkward. I knew I had a tendency to get angry or snappy or snarky. I decided to surprise myself, if no one else, with some gratitude. "MouseEye, you are amazing. You can see bits of the future and, as much as you can, you help me and my patients. Thank you for everything you do."

I watched as MouseEye peeked up a bit, pressed his front paws together in what I think could be called a Prayer Pose, wiggled his whiskers, and said, "You're welcome, Mistress." And then, instead of settling back down, he looked more attentive.

This was promising! I decided to ask another question. "When you disappear, say in the air balloon with Madcap, you said you don't always stay with me. So... where do you go?"

To his credit, MouseEye didn't answer at first, but instead just looked thoughtful. "It's hard to describe. But I'm glad you asked because it's something that should be shared."

I knew well enough to allow him to speak in his own time. This felt momentous. 

"Let's talk about this cottage. The old witch lived in it, maybe will again, maybe not, but in the past she lived here."

I nodded but had no idea where this was going.

"So you came here. You were formerly living in a woodcutter's cottage. Following so far?"

I didn't see why I wouldn't be, but ok. I nodded again.

"What do you think would have happened if somebody else had moved in?"

I had no idea. "Apply to be an apprentice? Go back home? Maybe work with Francie as a domestic?"

MouseEye nodded. "What if you'd never successfully made it here? Like the wagon was attacked by bandits? Or you had to stay home to take care of your ailing father?"

I... what? Ailing father? Was he ok?

"Nonono! I don't know anything about your father, or your mother for that matter. I'm just asking what would've happened to the witch's cottage."

I was drawing blanks.

"It would eventually attract a witch. It's a witch's cottage. At some point a witch would live here."

I nodded slowly.

"Here's where it gets tricky. What if, at roughly the same time, all the possible people who could live in the cottage did live in this cottage."

Tricky. He did say "tricky". But he didn't say "impossible". So I did.

"Well... sort of. Because while you are here and experiencing your life with me, as time goes on there are other witches who are experiencing their lives with their familiars. All at the same time that you are. Unlike most of them, you've just been told that they also live in their cottages, which are their versions of the cottage, and this cottage is your version of the cottage. See?"

Ah... nope. Not at all.

"Ok, how about this - I was at one point, and for a very short period of time, in another version of this cottage."

I know my face was a complete furrowed mess. So much for a relaxing day. Metaphysics was what I'd really intended.

"And I brought something back with me. But I didn't know how to tell you who it's from. So... here..."

Once again, a surprise came out from behind the lean-to. A letter. A small folded up letter. From someone named Pip. 

Pip's letter (with a background of my journal)

It said:

Hi I'm Pip

I'm living in this cottage. It's a bit lonely sometimes. 

Do you want to be penpals?

Elaborate box for yes. A very plain (and much smaller) box for no.

It was signed "Your new bestie Pip"

And then a PS - please check yes.

And the note was covered in hearts!

A new bestie? Living here but not here?

I looked at MouseEye in amazement. "This person is someone else who...?"

"Mmhmm."

Wow. So... ok.

"Can I send a letter back?"

"Mmhmm."

Ok. So time to grab a bit of paper, a pencil, and...

"Sorry. Almost forgot. Here's this..."

He pulled a reagent I'd never seen before out from where the letter had been. As I looked at it, I asked, "Is there anything else back there I should know about?"

"No. Not yet, anyway."

Not yet? Well... I suppose letters can come through there. Anyway - the reagent. A plant, certainly. Maybe it's...

"Oh yeah - it's called 'Rosemary'. Good for relaxation and something called 'Branching Out'."

I didn't know what to do with it. It isn't in the witch's notes. How...?

MouseEye to the rescue. He saw my confusion. "I think the old witch didn't know everything there is to know. You may find this useful when you need to treat someone who has an affliction not on the list."

Huh. She maybe didn't know everything? The book isn't all there is to witching? I think the ground dropped out from underneath me. Luckily, I was still seated so the ground was close at hand.

The world swirled around me. Other witches, here but not here? Witches sending me letters from here but not here? I...

My hand brushed past my tea cup. Newly filled tea cup. MouseEye, with eyes closed and head resting on his paws, was still up on the mantlepiece.

Surprises indeed.

"MouseEye? If I write a letter to Pip, will you deliver it?"

I expected one answer, but didn't receive it.

"Mmhmm."

This is what I wrote.

Hi Pip! I'm... call me Sweet!

You make lovely hearts. I hope you don't mind if I don't make them too.

I'd love to be your penpal! Tick mark in a Yes box.

And yes, it is lonely being a witch. But a little less so now that I know you are living here yet not here in the cottage (MouseEye tried to explain it to me but I still don't get it.)

Your best bestie back!

Sweet

Spring, Week 3 - Bob's Cludgie Mouth

Here's a link to the video about how I put this episode together (and narrate it too):

 This is the life. When I think about how hard my father had to work - cutting down trees, processing them into transportable logs, and then getting them to the sawmill - so much time and effort for so little return, both in terms of money and respect. And yet here I am, comfortably set up in this lovely cottage, supported by people who, by the way things have gone so far, get warts on various pats of their bodies, and pay handsomely to have them removed.

I don't think my father, when he sent me off to school, would ever have expected me to find such an easy and lucrative place. And I didn't even have to attend that silly school.

It just can't get much better than this!

Although, now that I think on it, there's one thing that would improve the day - a small sampling of the honey I know is inside the bee hive. Which is why I walked over to the hive, all busy and buzzing with activity, with a small spoon, ready to taste that golden sweetness. My mind wandered to the contents of the hive, then to how my mouth would delight in the thick and rich flavour, the product of so much effort. And all mine.

The bees saw me coming and I think were prepping up a droplet or five - enough so I would know if it was sweet enough, rich enough, delicious enough. I couldn't wait!

But I would have to wait because something happened. I think the wind shifted. But it wasn't the wind itself that put a delay on my delight, but rather the smell on the wind was enough to cause anyone to pause. It smelled like a midden. But a midden that had clogged due to some large thing that had died and was slowly blocking the flow, meanwhile rotting slowly away. It... oh whatever it was, it was bad. So so bad. And not stopping.

MouseEye emerged from somewhere close and ran up my pants leg, then up my shirt sleeve, and up onto my shoulder. Before he spoke, I could feel the disapproval of my "wasting" a spot of honey for my personal gratification. "I assume your nose is working? Whoosh!"

I nodded. "Do you suppose the town will get that fixed soon? It's unbearable!"

"I don't know." 

At first I thought he was answering about the High Rannoc midden (maybe called Low Rannoc?) being fixed. But then when the wind shifted again but the smell didn't, I wondered if he was thinking it wasn't coming from the town at all.

"MouseEye, can you check to see if this stink is coming from the town?"

A pause, then, "Must I?"

I was just about to say yes when I spied someone approaching the cottage. "No, MouseEye. I think the source of the foul air has just arrived for help." I tucked my spoon into my pocket and headed back.

As I got closer, I saw it was none other than Bob. What in the world had he done to have this happen?

He saw me coming and, kind soul that he is, tested the wind to get himself downwind yet still within shouting distance. He looked abashed. "My apologies, Mistress. I'm afraid I've been cursed." He was half-gagging as he yelled that to me.

I asked MouseEye to spare Bob and I from shouting to each other. But, of course, MouseEye was nowhere to be found. Typical.

"What happened?"

As Bob answered, I swear the air around him turned an unhealthy shade of green. "Business deal went sour. A bog goblin swore he'd found something amazing and wanted me to buy it. Fentoad Scurf. The thing about it is that it goes bad really quickly. You need to harvest from living fentoads at your workbench. So what the goblin brought me was useless and not worth a thing. The goblin wasn't happy that I wouldn't buy so he cursed me."

Oh boy did he ever. At least the diagnosis was easy. The potion was going to be a bit trickier than what I'd made before - the curse wasn't difficult to deal with but the infection part was going to be a challenge. But no matter - I'd have Bob right as rain in no time. And I told him that.

"Gods I hope so. I know the reek isn't good where you are, but from where I'm sitting? It's wretched! And I've got to keep my shop closed until I can wait on customers again."

I gathered my things, bid him farewell (he insisted on staying in my cottage so's to not offend the townspeople with his breath. I wasn't happy that my cottage would probably forever smell of bog goblin, but I kept my mouth shut), and headed off. To Hero's Hollow.

So... not that I'm complaining, but Hero's Hollow isn't my favourite place. For one, it's hollow. For two, I'm no hero. However, needs be that I go there so needs be that I go there.

At the very least, I now know where the walk-in entrance is. The falling-in entrance is also known! (And very much not preferred).

My goal - my focus - was on the infection. After all that I'd collected ahead of time, I hadn't gotten an infection reagent yet (and I figured while I was out, I'd pick up a fresh curse reagent as well). And so I was on the lookout for Silverleaf. The difficulty with Silverleaf is that it's sharp, clings to the sides of caverns and tunnel walls, and only grows in the dark. It's easy to cut yourself if you aren't careful. However, it is easier if you have a mouse who loves to watch things. He spotted it without much difficulty.

And that's where things went from going well to absolute disaster. And in the end it was my fault but I was so absolutely certain I was right, I just wouldn't listen.

I'd gotten it into my head that I needed Liquid Fire. It's not easy to find and dangerous if you're not prepared - note the "Fire" part of all that - but I was convinced it needed to be mixed into the potion. MouseEye disagreed with me. And so we got into a bit of an argument. Yes, it's every bit as silly as it sounds - there I was, arguing with a mouse who claimed that, not only was I in the wrong, but arrogantly so (with obvious references to my near-wasting a dose of honey), in a dark tunnel not far from where I'd been accidentally temporarily imprisoned a couple of weeks prior.

I said a couple of very not nice things, including his disappearing when things got tough. Not only not nice - they were unfair. I know that now. Heck - I knew it then too, but I was so... full of myself. Frankly, I didn't recognize myself, looking back. Definitely not my finest moment.

And then it got worse. Oh so much worse. I said that maybe I should send him back to wherever familiars come from and get one that was truly useful. MouseEye, stunned, just murmured, "I suppose you should". And then disappeared. No flash, no sound. Just one second there and the next, not. Except for a single tear that glowed faintly blue in the dark and slowly faded away.

I... I was a mess. But a mess who choked back her tears and focused, once again, on gathering Liquid Fire. 

Note to self - don't try to gather Liquid Fire when you're a mess. You'll just make a mess of it.

I wandered around the tunnels, doing my best to find the blasted Fire. Nope, nope, and nope. I think I actually screamed in frustration.

Another note to self - when you scream in dark, creepy places, you may attract unwanted attention to yourself.

I got lucky - it wasn't unwanted attention. It was more... unhelpful. At first.

After I screamed, I stood stark still as it echoed along passages dark and grim. Yes - I said "dark and grim". I'm trying to be more poetic. I wasn't thinking "dark and grim" at the time. My thoughts were more like "stupid, stupid, stupid!". Especially when I heard footsteps. And they got closer. And closer still.

While it sounded like a small army coming at me, what I saw was a chest - a wooded chest - moving towards me. When it got close enough, I could see what must have been a hundred little legs underneath the "body". It was weird. It was strange. It was what an enthusiastic dog would be if it were a piece of furniture. An enthusiastic dog that really wanted a treat. It begged. It whined. It stood up on... more than two legs while all the rest waved ineffectually in the air. I... I had no idea what to do. And my super-able translator had just buggered off.

Drat.

I patted my pockets to show that I had nothing to offer. No treats to be had here. See? I'm patting my pockets and finding... something. What the...?

Why is there Smooth Croak in my pocket? Why is there...?

The walking box nuzzled my pocket. Yes - that one.

It? He? enjoyed the treat. I guess. And then it kind of crouched down, opened its lid, and let me peer in.

I tried to look without getting too close but it just wasn't possible to look effectively without sticking my head in. So... I looked.

Do you remember that I was feeling incredibly stupid? Yeah - looking back, this was another example. Yes, there was something in there. Yes, I was curious. Yes, I might've been swallowed and that would've been it.

It turns out, there was something the chest wanted but couldn't make happen on its own. There were little knitted socks in the chest. About one hundred of them. I know because I put booties onto each of the chest's feet. All of them. The end ones were ok, but the middle ones were harder. And most of the feet were in the middle.

Once I was done, it padded off. And I was running out of time. I knew Bob wouldn't wait forever.

As the chest padded off, I yelled out that I needed to find Liquid Fire. It stopped, managed to look over its shoulder, then... I guess beckoned is the best word... and off it led directly to Liquid Fire.

I was excited, tired, mourning MouseEye, definitely not at my best. I managed to nearly hurt myself repeatedly (my clothes are going to need extensive mending and my shoes are now more like open-toed sandals) but I finally managed to collect some. Finally! And as I mentally reviewed the benefits, I realized MouseEye had been absolutely right. I didn't need this. Hadn't needed it. Had just wasted time and energy gathering this.

I wanted to cry. So I did. The chest wandered off.

I sat, absorbed in misery. I needed Old Blood - really needed it. And had no idea how to... wait... that cell I'd fallen into. Wasn't there manacles on the wall? And where there's manacles, maybe there's struggle to escape. Maybe there was violence and spilled blood and maybe maybe maybe there's harvestable blood.

I set off at a run. Not so fast that I'd hurt myself if I banged into anything but fast enough that I could feel air streaming past my face.

I didn't make it to the cells. I didn't need to. On my way there I passed by where I'd found the Silverleaf. Had someone been extraordinarily unlucky with their harvest? Maybe sliced through an artery?

It wasn't as if I was hoping someone would hurt themselves! I was hoping someone had hurt themselves.

I found what I was looking for. Tucked away in a large crevice was the remains of someone. And there were blood scrapings aplenty.

I raced home, hoping I was in time, that Bob hadn't left yet.

He hadn't. But he wasn't happy at all that I'd taken as long as I had. I think. Actually, now that I'm going over what did happen, I think I was so embarrassed from the time I knew I'd wasted that I blew right by him (and, frankly, the smell encouraged my speeding by) so that I didn't take the time to let him know that everything was going to be ok. And soon.

As I was stoking the fire, I looked up to see Bob throw up his hands in frustration and start to leave! There was no way I was going to let him go after everything I'd been through! So I had to dash out and stop him. But first I had to catch my breath and that wasn't easy since in catching my breath I caught big draughts of his.

"Bob! Sir! Please - I've got everything I need to brew up the potion. I need just a bit more time to get things prepped and mixed. Please - don't go." I think I half-wailed.

He stood there for a minute, then, "I thought maybe things weren't going well. You weren't giving me the time of day. Anyway, I'll settle back into a chair and wait for your cure."

While there were bunches of things I wanted to say, I only got out, "Thank you!", before dashing back to the cottage. Ok - not quite true. I started to dash but then Bob yelled out, "I'm not going anywhere so just slow down and make the potion you know you can make. If you hurry, I could end up with no voice! Or the face of a chicken! Or I could be stuck with bog goblin breath for the rest of my days!"

I did end up dashing into the cottage, but before I set to (re-)starting my preparations again, I went to the little... house, I guess... on the mantlepiece, closed my eyes, and just forced myself to breathe. And I counted them. All ten.

Feeling much better from that pause (and better able to concentrate), I got back to my work. I got the fire stoked and began boiling the Old Blood (it reeked almost as bad as Bob's breath). While that was going, I crushed up the Silverleaf. As I worked it into a powder, my mind drifted back to Hero's Hollow, the endless dark of the dungeon, and MouseEye.

That I found MouseEye frustratingly... obstinate? secretive? puzzling? How...?

The Silverleaf was approaching dust levels. Crushed far more than I'd intended.

Before the potion could be completed, I had one last ingredient to grab - honey - to counteract the bit of poison in the Old Blood would introduce.

The spoon was still in my pocket. I pulled it out as I headed for the hive. The buzzing swelled as I approached. I hadn't figured out how to retrieve the honey. Something else needing solving. *sigh* But this time I was going to do things properly. I stood in front of the hive and asked for a dose of honey. And held out the spoon in case they didn't understand me.

Several bees began to fly circles around the base of the hive. I held my spoon under where they were flying. A small drizzle of honey dripped into my spoon. Holding it carefully, I thanked the bees, then headed back.

The last step was combining all the ingredients together. A bit of mixing over low heat (so the honey would melt throughout) and it was done. I walked it out to Bob.

He accepted it and drank it down. And in minutes his breath was as fresh as honey can make it.

And then, instead of reaching into his pocket or otherwise making haste back to High Rannoc, he just set the cup down, looked thoughtful for a minute, then began to speak. "You, little miss, and begging your pardon I mean no offence, are young. You have a gift, no doubt, an ability to heal the body. But dealing with people is more than the physical - it's about compassion. When you came to my shop that first time, I served you and your desires to view my stock for a fair bit of time. I never once complained about what I knew was going to be my very cold lunch, or my aching feet. It's something I learned when I sat with my grandfather as he ran the shop and when I clerked in the back for my father. It's something for you to learn now. It's more important, in many ways, to let people know what's going on, keep up their spirits, that sort of thing.

"Maybe you need a hobby that will help you be more peaceful. I know the old witch got into knitting baby booties. Really got into it. Bought way more yarn than ever she made into the town's babies! I know that. Maybe you should try your hand at something like that.

"I do see that you're far more calm now than you were when you first got back from your foraging hunt. Think on what I said. It's a manner that's served my family for generations and I hope will serve you well as well.

"And now I should pay you, get out of your hair, and get my shop aired out for opening tomorrow."

The twenty silver clinked into my hand but it felt like his words were worth far more.

He waved as he stepped out of view. And I... I wandered back to the cottage. And to the spirit house on the mantlepiece. The house's house. It still wasn't much more than a small bowl of water, a candle, the Star Shard, and a few wildflower blossoms, but it represented more than what the parts were.

Not a great explanation, but it's the best I can manage right now. It certainly wasn't perfect. It just wasn't... perfect. And I certainly wasn't perfect. Oh no! Not perfect at all. But I was doing the best I could. Not perfect but doing my best. That's me.

And this place. Not perfect but doing its best.

And the bees. Not perfect but doing their best.

And... MouseEye. Not perfect but doing his best.

And... I wasn't allowing him to be imperfect. His imperfect. Maybe it's frustrating to me that his imperfections are so frustratingly frustrating to me, but...

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I behaved. I didn't treat Bob well, didn't treat myself well, and didn't treat MouseEye well. I said it to myself, to the house, to the house's house, and to MouseEye wherever he was.

And then I chuckled to myself. Wherever he is? I can probably guess. I looked up at the mantlepiece again. Water, candle, Star Shard, two eyes amongst a few wildflower blossoms. 

I reached over to where his little mouse head should be and gave it some gentle pets. "You know, MouseEye, I've spent my last two weeks wandering around, going to town, exploring here and there. But I haven't spent any time at all talking with you, sharing thoughts and ideas. So, if it's ok with you, I'd like to stay here, walk the property a bit, but most of all get to know you better. What do you think about that?"

With a mischievous grin, all he said was, "Must I?"