I was very hungry; I had had nothing to eat since a hasty breakfast of rough parritch and boiled mutton, made soon after dawn at a posthouse in Dundaff. I had one last sandwich remaining in my pocket , but had been reluctant to eat it in the coach, under the curious gaze of my fellow travelers.
I pulled it out and carefully unwrapped it. Peanut butter and jelly on white bread, it was considerably the worse for wear, with the purple stains of the jelly seeping through the limp bread, and the whole thing mashed into a flattened wodge. It was delicious.
Diana Gabaldon, Voyager (Chapter 24 – A. Malcolm, Printer)
Soon, we’ll be as lost as Claire. Just one more episode before we enter that black hole of Outlander nothingness until early 2015, when the last half of the season will appear to pull us out of our post-holiday doldrums.
Well, it’s something to look forward too, right? Even if you are dreading this final hour before the break…
Can you believe we’ve made it? We’re actually here! After months and months of waiting (decades, really, for some), The Wedding is less than 4 days away.
It looks as though some of the finer points have yet to be taken care of in the negotiations, but the horse is happily munching away on his hay, and Jamie seems more poised to make a smart-ass remark than a engage in a shout fest, so I don’t think too many obstacles remain.
Except maybe a dress, a priest in a kirk, and a few days space from the MacKenzie boys while he and Claire become acquainted. But that’s just a guess…
It’s going to be a tough Saturday. Even if you haven’t read any of the early reviews for Epsiode 106 of Outlander on STARZ, this picture says it all.
BJR is back, and it doesn’t look like his mood has improved greatly, madame.
Mission accomplished! Claire is out from behind the castle walls, and off with the lads to collect the rents and “attend to a wee bit of business here and there.” (TV Dougal can be so damn ominous.)
Along for the ride with Claire and the MacKenzies is an old book favourite of mine, Ned Gowan. Gentleman Ned, an adventurous solicitor originally from Edinburgh, looks after all of the MacKenzies’ legal requirements, including the recording of rent monies and their equivalents.
In place of coins, Ned will take bags of grain or turnips, well-trussed fowl, perhaps even a goat. On no account, however, will he take a live pig, which seems pretty reasonable to this semi-rural girl, who has hopped the gate of a pig pen just in time on more than one occasion.