A bit of space...

This round of jobs, with more for next week, took me over and proved to be exhausting, not just physically but mentally. But they also took my mind off APoS and let me see there are places where I can make connections between what happens in Derry as Brendan is growing up and in Houston, now that he's a war-wounded lad trying to restart his life. Once I'm done with this draft...if ever...I'll have aspects to go back to Derry and add.

For example, in New World For Old Brenda eats pan fried chicken leg with a knife and fork, like you would a breast. When did he learn to do that? Who showed him? Why would he even think to do it that way? The obvious answer is, that's how Joanna would do it. But the only time I have them getting together, there's nothing more than cake and tea involved. I can work that in and it would add to her magic, in his eyes, just not sure where or how, yet.

I once got a job making backgrounds for a party to be held at the King Ranch, in South Texas, because when I was interviewing with the man pulling it together, he offered me dinner. Fried chicken. This was long ago, before I understood that chicken and I do not get along. It was all drumsticks and wings and thighs mashed potatoes and gravy and biscuits and stuff. So Southern. Pick 'em up by hand and gnaw on 'em with your teeth. Only I didn't. I used a knife and fork, which startled him.

You see, when I lived in England as a child, a Scottish couple across the street from us would sometimes have me over for tea. It started when my mother had her first nervous breakdown, and I'm sure my stepfather was relieved he had only my little brother and baby sister to deal with, and not this finicky little redhead. Even after she came home, it continued about once a week...but usually just over tea and cucumber sandwiches with butter or cream cheese.

Anyway, on one occasion they roasted a chicken. They took the breast and gave me a drumstick. I was fascinated by how they ate with the fork in their left hand and knife in their right...so I copied them, working the meat off the bone with the knife and fork then keeping the fork my left hand to put it in my mouth. They were amazed.

So was I, really, and it marked me as an oddball when we came back to the States, but I still eat that way. No one else in the family does; just me.

Damn, I'm seeing so much of Brendan in me, and me in him in many ways. As it should be, I suppose.