The Tudors: Anne In The Way
We will be doing two Tudors this week as Anne slides into her dreaded fate, a short one today and a long one tomorrow.
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By February 1536 the bloom was off the lily. Anne was, as far as Henry was concerned, never going to produce a male heir. She also began to vent her notoriously nasty temper on Henry. Something she had tried to avoid during their courtship. She even objected, loudly and in public, to his recreational sex with serving girls. How unreasonable! A guy needs a hobby, doesn’t he? Gee whiz, She didn’t want him to have any fun at all!
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It didn’t help that certain persons were very aware of the Queen’s waning influence and decided to take advantage of it. One of the Queen’s ladies, Jane Seymour, an ambitious young thing of good family, was assiduously prepped by people with experience in such things to catch the king’s eye. Catch it she did. In the months leading up to the Anne/Henry denouement Henry bestowed a number of lavish gifts upon young Jane. Secretly, at first, through intermediaries. And then publicly, from his hands to hers. Anne’s response was to chastise Henry, which only drove him further away.
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Anne knew the vultures were circling, but being Anne, she didn’t know how to stop it. She had manipulated people all her life to get what she wanted. She was a fish out of water in a situation she could not exert direct control over. If she didn’t know the details of what was up, the members of her faction did. Or at least they knew enough to get out of the way. As was to happen to another unfortunate young woman, family members became her most vocal enemies.
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The death of Katherine the previous month, A drawn-out, agonizing death from a disease that Henry would not allow to be treated, in the most dismal surroundings Henry could find for her, didn’t cheer him up for long. After the Katherine business, Henry was in no mood for protracted divorce proceedings. The solution? Kill Anne! He considered accusing her of witchcraft, a capital crime, but there was no evidence. Henry wanted an open/shut case with “justice” delivered as swiftly as possible.
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God knows Anne had made enough enemies during her rise to power that Henry would have no difficulty stacking a courtroom against her. Henry considered the valuable years squandered on that Boleyn bitch and could just kick himself! Oh well, no time for regrets. He had wife number three, Jane Seymour, waiting in the wings, ready and able to start popping out male babies.
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But what to accuse Anne of? It had to be bad. So bad that Anne would not only lose her husband, but her head as well. Adultery? Sure, it was a 24-carat gold reason for divorce, but even in a queen it wasn’t a capital crime. It WAS a capital crime for the man who had sex with her; he could be charged with treason and put to death. But that wasn’t the point. Unless…
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****
Mr. Al, must you leave me hanging? Good thing I’m posting the next installment tomorrow.
Alice
Regarding CRS Syndrome
Something Donna said about Can’t Remember Sh… Stuff Syndrome and being a writer:
“Kind of an information overload phenomenon. My brain’s so full of ideas, it’s leaking random words. 
”
Alice
Jumpin' Jambalaya
The ladies over at FanLit Forever have lured me into an health and diet oriented web site called SparkPeople.com
The first non-“hello-there” email they sent me was this recipe:
Jumpin’ Jambalaya
Serves: 5A flavorful favorite that you can enjoy without guilt. Add your own spices to taste.INGREDIENTS
1/2 pound steamed shrimp, peeled and chopped
8 oz. turkey smoked sausage pieces
1-1/2 cups cooked pinto beans
16 oz. can Cajun style stewed tomatoes
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 cup celery, chopped
1 cup bell pepper, chopped
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tbsp chopped parsley
1 tsp Tabasco sauce
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup water
4 cups long grain brown rice, cooked
DIRECTIONS
1. In a large pot, heat oil over medium heat. Sauté onions, celery and peppers until they soften.
2. Add garlic, stewed tomatoes, tomato paste, parsley, Tabasco sauce, salt and water. Cover and simmer for 20 minutes, or until veggies are soft.
3. Stir in pinto beans.
4. Heat skillet with oil over medium-high heat. Add turkey sausage and cook until browned (5 min).
5. Add shrimp, sausage and cooked rice to pot of veggies and simmer for 5 minutes, while stirring.
NUTRITION INFO (per 4-ounce serving)
Calories: 467.7
Fat: 10.2 g
Carbohydrates: 69.6 g
Protein: 27.1 g
As you know I have a hard time sticking to recipes as I get them, and I can already see a few changes in this one. For instance I don’t typically have Cajun style stewed tomatoes around the house, but I do have Cajun spice. So I’d put in plain stewed tomatoes and a couple teaspoons of spice. Likewise I don’t generally have turkey sausage laying around, but I frequently have turkey, so I’d probably just put in a few pieces, along with some cumin, and pepper. Actually, I’ve got some chicken in the frig right now….
bon appétit
Alice
Xunantunich III
The main pyramid is worth a post all by itself. It’s the only one I climbed. I didn’t realize how bad the sunburn on the back of my legs was until I reached the top then tried to come back down. Ouch! That’s why I didn’t climb the rest.
From the top you can see the entire complex. See the white line at the bottom of the picture? That’s what I’m standing on.
From the top of the pyramid you can see all the way to Guatemala. The very highest point of the pyramid was where they would light signal fires to communicate with other communities in the area. The guide called Xunantunich a city, but only a few hundred people of the thousands associated with it actually lived there. Those who were not of the royalty or nobility lived in outlying arias.
This facade is actually a plaster cast of the real thing, which is apparently safe from the elements in among the stones.
This was the view after having climbed back down, one painful step at a time. I thought it was impressive.
Alice
Xunantunich II
One of the most impressive aspects of our tour of Xunantunich was the casual way our Mayan- Mestizo guide pointed at rock structures and said it was made for one kind of blood letting or another. Ironically, what you find at the top of the biggest pyramid is not an alter, but the royal bedrooms.
Actually, come to think of it, we didn’t see any alters in place anywhere. Here is where they do the circumcisions. I’m not sure if they did virgin sacrifices here too, or if it was in a building we didn’t see.
Here are the residences of the nobility.
This is a bedroom where several of them would all sleep. Comfy, no?
Alice
Suzie’s House 18: For Want of a Band Aid
A tall, red-headed man wearing jeans and a polo shirt stood on Suzie’s porch. He faced the street where Drew’s car was parked. Drew had come home from some unspecified errand looking harried and distracted. He grabbed his computer and went right back out the front door only to return a moment later when his car wouldn’t start. He’d gone off with Miranda, rather than deal with the car immediately.
The man turned toward her. He smiled in a self effacing way that included the floorboards in the porch as much as her eyes. He must be a college student.
“Hi. I moved in just down the street.” He waved generally toward the southwest end of the block. “Is that your car?”
“No, it’s Drew’s.” She dreaded having to deal with it. Surely she didn’t have to worry about alternate side parking on a summer day. “Is there a problem?”
“I think I ran into it. It’s just a scratch, but I better give my insurance information to the owner.”
Suzie couldn’t see any damage from the porch,. She would have run out to look, but she hadn’t dealt with the cut on her finger from her little cooking accident. She would have to look at the car later. “Come on in.” She opened the door wider. The red-headed man stepped inside.
“Oh,” he said, head swiveling as he checked out her house. “I thought maybe this house was converted into apartments, same as where I’m living.”
“Which one are you in?” She gestured him down the long hall. She could have taken him into her office for a piece of paper to write down his information, but the blood was slowly dripping down her arm. She really needed a band aid.
He gave her his address while following her. When she went into the bathroom he caught sight of the blood. “Whoa. That’s a bad cut. Do you need some help?”
“Yes, actually.” She pointed out the band aides with her chin while she rinsed the blood off her hand. “I know the house you live in. Nancy lives there.”
“So the car belongs to Drew? Is he here?” He took the box out of the medicine chest.
“No. He caught a ride to the hospital with…” Suzie had been on the verge of saying Miranda, but something about this guy was starting to bother her. “What apartment did you say you live in?”
“3B.”
“There is no 3B. They don’t have a third floor.”
“Oh. I meant 2B. I’m always getting that confused.” He unwrapped a band aid. “Drew doesn’t happen to have a friend who is a cab driver, does he?”
Suzie felt her eyes widen, then carefully made her face as neutral as she could. She already had her finger out, and the strange man had his eyes on the band aide as he wrapped it around.
Could this have been the man who shot Vin? Drew hadn’t bothered to give her or Miranda a description, merely said Vin had been shot. No. She was being ridiculous. Still, she wasn’t comfortable being in the house with only the stranger. The house had never felt so empty, nor she so vulnerable before.
The sooner she could get his information, the sooner he would leave.
“There is some paper in the kitchen. You can leave your information there. This way.” She brushed past him.
She could hear his footsteps behind her, though there was a cat-like lightness about them. As soon as they were in the room she slapped a scratch pad and pencil onto the table.
The red haired man stopped in the doorway to admire the room. “This is a nice house. Would you mind giving me a tour?”
“Maybe some other time,” Suzie said as she picked up the knife she’d been using to slice the cheese for sandwiches when she cut her finger. The long, solid heft of the blade made her feel comfortable right away. “I need to finish making lunch.”
He eyed the knife uncomfortably, then picked up the pencil. Instead of writing, he twisted it around in his fingers. “Have you lived here long?”
“Long enough.” She cut more cheese than she needed if she only intended to make a Ruben sandwich for Drew and a corned beef, lettuce and cheese for herself. She considered making a cheese and lettuce for Miranda instead of the peanut butter and jam simply for the excuse to keep the knife in her hand, then opted to cut up the corned beef first. Maybe he would finish giving his information and go before she got to Miranda’s sandwich.
Still the man stood there, looking at her. “What’s your name?” She asked. “And who is your insurance company?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have said. I’m Joe Smith.” He held out a hand to her.
She set the knife down long enough to shake his hand while visions of murder and mayhem ran through her head. Was he really named Joe Smith? Suzie had her doubts.
“Maybe I should get your driver’s license number while we’re at it. Do you have it with you?”
The expression that flashed on eyebrow and lip was so far removed from the self-effacing way he’d looked when she opened the door to him that she quickly picked up the knife.
“No. I… don’t have it with me.”
The sound of a car door closing came from the parking area behind her house. Suzie glanced out the window facing the driveway. Drew and Miranda were coming up the walk.
“Here’s Drew now,” Suzie said.
Then it occurred to her that Drew would recognize the man who shot Vin. What is more, Vin had said something about Drew being in law enforcement. Suzie wasn’t sure if he was FBI, DEA, or what, but surely he could arrest Vin’s assailant.
A scrambling sound and sudden rush of motion from the stranger’s side of the kitchen brought her head around.
The red headed man was gone.
The previous was Suzie’s House 17: Visitors
This is Suzie’s House 18: For Want of a Band Aid
Next is Suzie’s House 19: Drew’s Decision
Xunantunich I
Back to Belize. As long as we were in the neighborhood, we dropped by a Mayan ruin. This one is called Xunantunich. The owner of Banana Bank Lodge told us to pronounce it like Shoe-not-to-itch. Last time I posted a bunch of pictures caused all kinds of loading problems for people, so I’m going to break it up into parts.
To get there you have to take the ferry. This is not your large, multi-vehicle carrier you might find up around Seattle. This is a little hand-cranked job.
The first actual ruin you see after leaving the parking lot is a little trading center built into the hill. The complex is on the other side.
We were told everything was quarried limestone originally, including a completely covered over courtyard which looked like a lovely park by the time we got there. Then everything was painted white. This fits much more closely my original impression of Mayan Pyramids. We can only surmise that people have removed much of the original limestone over the years to be used in other construction projects.
News
As I mentioned over on my goals thread on FF, I go under the knife on May 30th. It’s supposed to be laproscopy and hopefully outpatient, but if the tumor turns out to be cancer I may have to stay in the hospital for a while.
I have no idea how much this will affect my blog. As I promised over on FF, I will keep Suzie updated, even maybe working ahead a bit to be sure it’s covered, though it might not go up until kind of late the Friday following surgery, particularly if I have to talk Mr. Al through the posting process.
Mr. Al is working feaverishly to provide me with extra Tudor episodes to be posted next week and the week following. I might have to miss a day or two here and there, particularly right after the 30th.
I still have a bit to say about Belize, but it’s winding down, and I’ll always have way too much to say about writing.
Bear with me. I’m sure this is only a little blip in my life.
Alice
What Katherine Wanted
As promised, we continue with Mr. Al’s history of the Tudors.
***
What Katherine wanted was a clear statement from the Pope that she was Henry’s lawful wife! She wanted it publicly acknowledged that she was the rightful Queen of England! Why was His Holiness being such a weenie about it? If Henry wouldn’t abide by the Pope’s decision, well, there was nothing she could do about that. At least the world would know that Henry’s actions were just plain WRONG!
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What Charles wanted was for his aunt to be a little, teensy-bit more accommodating. Her stubbornness was beginning to get on his nerves. Clement had already promised her that she would be forgiven if she caved to Henry’s demand that she accept, and become part of, this new Church of England plan he had brewing. Henry even threw a sweetener into the deal by promising to restore Mary to the line of succession without demanding that she convert.
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That was all Charles and Clement needed to hear. They had, at that point, pretty much given up on Katherine ever being restored. If the Catholic Church had any future in England, Princess Mary would be the person to bring it about. Katherine said “NO!” to all of it. If the princes of this world were against her, the Prince of Peace was not. All she could do was wait. And pray. And while she waited and prayed, things went from bad to worse.
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In March 1533 Henry sent Anne’s brother, Lord Rochford, on a secret mission to France. He returned the first week of April. Mission Accomplished! Henry summoned the Privy Council and publicly announced that he had married Anne Boleyn two months previously. Oh, and Anne was pregnant with the heir to the throne. That was that. Katherine was out, Anne was in. Katherine was ordered to cease and desist from referring to herself as Queen of England. Henceforth, she would be known as the Princess Dowager of Wales.
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What Lord Rochford had been sent to France for was to secure, in writing, what had previously been King Francis’s verbal commitment to support Henry’s marriage plans. With the written agreement in hand, Henry had done an end-run around Charles, preventing him from pulling France into an alliance against England.
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It worked. With King Francis on his side, Henry didn’t have to worry about France being used as a springboard for an invasion from the Empire. And Pope Clement? As far as Henry was concerned, that girlie-boy could sit on his crosier and spin on it. Henry had big, BIG plans for the church and Clement couldn’t do a thing to stop him.
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In March of 1534, Clement finally gave his judgment. He declared the marriage of Katherine and Henry valid and legally binding. Henry was ordered to put aside Anne and resume co-habitating with Katherine, toot-sweet. Talk about closing the barn door after the cows have escaped. For seven years, people great and small had waited for the Pope to make that judgment. For Katherine, those years were emotional, and increasingly, physical misery as Henry moved her from one dilapidated castle to another.
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Needless to say, the Pope’s judgment changed nothing. Anne was Queen, She had given birth to a healthy baby girl and the royal couple had hopes that a boy was right around the corner. Many considered it God’s judgment upon Henry that Anne would never have another child that survived birth.
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Unfortunately for Anne, Henry started seeing it that way too.
***
And you all know who that baby girl was, don’t you.
Alice
Venison In Wine
Remeber last week when I posted a recipe for Elk Stroganoff? The next recipe in the book is this one:
1lb deer steak
four
1/2 c. butter
1/4 c. marsala cooking wine
1/4 c. chicken broth
Tenderize steak; cut in bite size pieces. Flour; brown in hot skillet. Remove. in same skillet add butter and wine. Cook at high heat; add broth. Stir until sauce-like. Add meat. Cook until done.
Can you tell people around here do a lot of hunting?
Alice
Anchors – Part II
Each of the examples in the previous post comes from the beginning of their respective books.
Notice that in Exhibit 1 we not only visualize the tarmac of a parking lot, we see it as cold and slushy from a warm winter or early spring day. We see high-end cars, and some sort of sports-oriented type building even though she didn’t specifically tell us to fill the parking lot or mention brick.
When we get into the building, we are going to throw in all sorts of sports-oriented details in our minds without being told to do so. Simply having been told we are in Chicago means few of us will add red-rock sandstone or a Yule log in our minds.
I seriously doubt anyone here is going to imagine the smell of sweaty sox while reading Exhibit 2. Does anyone beside me see ladies in elegant gowns and gentlemen of an alpha persuasion leaning toward one another and whispering? In all the rest of the scene my mind will provide a slight chill from cold seeping through the stones of a grand old building against the warmth of fireplaces. If you’ve read any of the other Rothgar books, you’ll have an even stronger vision of the setting and the people in it while reading this one.
Exhibit 3 actually went on a bit long for my tastes, but by the time we get to three people huddled against the wind, we know we are in that strange combination of time-warn land and modern American society that is the Navajo reservation. What’s more, the description dumped us right into the people who would be of significance to this story – two murder victims and a witness. When we get to the blood, we see it against the red of the stone even though the point of view character is blind.
You’ll noticed I included a lot more of Exhibit 4 than of any of the others. That’s because it’s Science Fiction. In Science Fiction the challenge to paint a vivid image is stronger because the reader can’t necessarily rule out things like sweaty sox, red sandstone, or the yule log just because there is a red sun or Darkovan clothing. Mind you, this example could have used a few more anchors earlier on. But, considering the author has to lay out not only what the physical world is like, but also cultural aspects while still providing a conflict quickly, it’s not surprising the anchors are spread out a bit more.
In case anyone is still wondering what an anchor is, let’s go through Exhibit 4 in more detail.
In the first sentence we learn the character we are going to pay closest attention to in the scene is female, a messenger though maybe or maybe not actually carrying a message at the time, dressed locally, and walking through an older neighborhood at night. In the second sentence we learn that she will be our Point of View character – when she “reminded herself” of a cultural phenomenon. We now have part of who, and part of where.
The second paragraph gives us a little more of the where, mentioning the marketplace.
The third paragraph gives us a lot more of the where, pinning a point in the universe, while at the same time indicating this is from the class of Science Fiction occasionally called a Space Opera. We can expect faster than light travel because there is an empire and space workers. We know she’s walking through red sunlight, and that there may be high technology, but with a vendors who close shutters and scrape kettles, we aren’t talking Star Trek here. Particularly telling is that a metal lock should stand out as a sign of prosperity. You can be sure there aren’t a lot of forcefield around.
What kind of details would I add? How about some indication of what a Darkovan woman’s clothing looks like? No doubt it was mentioned in a previous Darkover book, but I haven’t read any of them, so I don’t carry the imagery from them to this one. The crunch or clatter of whatever she’s walking on would help, and I’d love to have a name for her. But even without those details, the world created here is vivid enough to interest me, which is what Anchors do.
As to where each of these examples comes from, check it out:
Exhibit 1 is page 1 of This Heart of Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Exhibit 2 is page 1 of A Most Unsuitable Man by Jo Beverley
Exhibit 3 is page 1 of Listening Woman by Tony Hillerman
Exhibit 4 is from page 5 of City of Sorcery by marion Zimmer Bradley
Alice
Anchors Part I
You all know what an anchor is, right? Nope, not that thing you throw over the side of a ship to park it. I mean the part of your writing that helps the reader get oriented at the beginning of a scene.
Anchors are details, but not just any details. They are the ones that set up the scene, telling the reader when and where the action is taking place and whose head we are in. They make the reader a part of the story. Other details take care of how, why, and what, though an anchor may also answer such questions inadvertently. Anchors focus on who, where, and when.
Anchors can be scattered throughout a scene, but are most important within the first three paragraphs. Details in that position tend to carry more weight, provided they are not piled one on top of another. Too many anchors up front will come out looking like the purple prose from a hundred years ago.
Anchors aren’t necessarily individual words either. They can be an entire sentence or one really strong image. If you can pull off a strong image, it can often be enough so that a reader will provide countless other images to go with it, helping you make the story real.
So let’s look at a couple. Can you guess what kind of stories these might be from?
Exhibit 1:
The day Kevin Tucker nearly killed her, Molly Somerville swore off unrequited love forever.
She was dodging the icy places in the Chicago Stars headquarters parking lot when Kevin came roaring out of nowhere in his brand-new $140,000 fire-engine-red Ferrari 355 Spider. With tires shrieking and engine snarling, the low-slung car sprang around the corner, spewing slush. As the rear end flew toward her, she flung herself backward, hit the bumper of her brother-in-law’s Lexus, lost her footing, and fell in a cloud of angry exhaust.
Exhibit 2:
On this, the day after Christmas, the great hall of Rothgar Abbey was merry with holly, ivy, and mistletoe, all tied up with festive ribbons. The massive Yule log burned in the hearth, and spiced oranges scented the air.
The Marquess of Rothgar had invited many of his family to his home this Chritmastide, and this chamber had been the heart of the celebrations. Now, however, the guests were drawn to a very different sort of entertainment.
Scandal.
Exhibit 3:
The southwest wind picked up turbulence around the San Francisco Peaks, howled across the emptiness of the Moenkopi plateau, and made a thousand strange sounds in windows of the old Hopi villagers at Shongopovi and Second Mesa. Two hundred vacant miles to the north and east, it sand-blasted the stone sculptures of Monument Valley Navaho Tribal Park and whistled eastward across the maze of canyons on the Utah-Arizona border. Over the arid immensity of the Nokaito Bench it filled the blank blue sky with a rushing sound. At the hogan of Hosteen Tso, at 3:17 P.M., it gusted and eddied, and formed a dust devil, which crossed the wagon track and raced with the swirling roar across Margaret Cigaret’s old Dodge pickup truck and past the Tso brush arbor. The three people under the arbor huddled against the driven dust.
Exhibit 4
The messenger was a woman, and though she was wearing Darkovan clothing, she was not Darkovan, and not accustomed to the streets of Thendara’s Old Town at night. She walked warily, reminding herself that respectable women were seldom molested in the streets if they minded their own business, acted and looked as if they had somewhere to go; did no loiter, kept moving.
She had learned this lesson so well that she strode along briskly even through the marketplace, looking neither to one side nor the other, keeping her eyes straight ahead.
The red sun of Cottman Four, informally called the Bloody Sun by Terran Empire spaceport workers, lingered at the rim of the horizon, casting a pleasant red-umber twilight. A single moon, like a pale violet shadow in the sky, hung high and waning. In the marketplace, the vendors were closing the front shutters of their stalls. A fried-fish seller was scooping up the last small crispy crumbs from her kettle, watched by a cat-scrimmage underfoot, which she watched, amused, for a moment before she hoisted the kettle on its side, straining the fat through several layers of cloth. Close by, a saddlemaker slammed down the front shutters of his stall and padlocked them shut.
Prosperous, thought the Terran woman in Darkovan clothing. He can afford a Terran metal lock.
Tomorrow I’ll talk about each of these examples, and give you the titles and authors each came from. Today I’ve run out of time.
Suzie’s House 17: Visitors
“Ben tells me you are making a fair amount of money from your renters.” Rob tried to sound casual, but after twelve years of marriage and nearly a year of divorce Suzie knew better. He was fishing for something. He looked remarkably unappealing to her today. As his hairline receded it revealed a sloping forehead she’d never noticed before she married him. Some of the weight he’d put on over the last couple of years had gone to round out his jaw line. He stood at the base of the staircase where they waited for Ben with a tilt to his hips that used to appeal to her. Now it made the spare tire at his waist stand out. Time had not been kind to Rob.
“When did Ben talk to you about my private affairs?” Not that Suzie blamed her son. Ben couldn’t help but tell his father more than he should when Rob insisted on pumping him for information. “So? Are you making a lot of money?” Typical Rob, ignoring anything she had to say. He was on his own track and doggedly kept to it. “Because half of this house is mine. I shouldn’t have to pay you alimony when you are keeping my share of the profits from the house.”
“None of this house is yours. The judge gave it entirely to me.” She didn’t have the energy to do more than mouth the words for the thousandth time. “You can’t handle a place like this by yourself. I know you were about to sell it. Maybe you should sell it to me.” There was a nasty gleam in his eye.
“I never intended to sell it,” she said tightly. She was saved from digging any deeper by Ben’s arrival. “Hi Dad! I’m all set.” He held up a battered, blue, nylon overnight case. The glance he flicked from one to the other looked tense, as if he thought they’d break out into a yelling match any second. It hurt Suzie to know he had cause for concern.
She gave Ben a big hug. “I love you, kid. Take care of yourself.” “I will, Mom.” He hugged her quickly, then dashed out the front door. Rob trailed along reluctantly. Given half a chance he would no doubt have started in on her again.
With great relief she pressed the door until the latch clicked, then headed for the kitchen. She’d make a soufflé if she’d had any hope of eating it before it fell. Soufflé always made her feel better. It wasn’t nearly as hard to make as people claimed, yet was tricky enough to give her a sense of mastery when it came out right. But no. Not today. Drew and Miranda were sitting around Vin’s hospital bed, waiting for her to come back with lunch. Maybe she shouldn’t have volunteered, but she was in the mood to cook.
No, she had to volunteer. She couldn’t stand to sit in the waiting room or next to Vin’s bed. Apparently he had spoken to Miranda, though she refused to repeat what he’d said. Still, he wasn’t out of the woods. The tension at the hospital was killing her. Especially since the strange encounter she’d had with Drew in the stairwell after having seen him and Miranda kiss. Clearly Drew wasn’t averse to a relationship with Miranda. And Miranda had made it clear from the start that she intended to go after Drew.
Yet watching them kiss had felt like a slap in the face. Suzie pulled out a couple of different loaves of bread – one a three-grain she had made the day before, the other a commercial whole wheat. She put the three-grain on a wooden cutting board and made a few slices. Drew once said he loved Rubens sandwiches and Miranda was fond of peanut butter and jam. Suzie considered a peanut butter and corned beef for herself, then decided to go with corned beef, lettuce, and cheese instead.
There was no reason to feel betrayed by Drew or Miranda. Neither of them owed her anything. At least not for a couple months, and then it would only be the rent. Suzie grimaced at her own humor. Rob’s threats came to mind. He had no legal standing. Even if he withheld alimony and got away with it, she would be all right. He couldn’t really do anything to her, though she worried about Ben. Funny, but she had the feeling if she had divorced Drew she would never have worried over how he would treat their children. Not that she would ever marry Drew.
Rob and Drew weren’t anything alike. Just because both of them had fooled around with other women. Just because they both used the exact phrase, “It didn’t mean anything.” The situations were completely different. Rob was married to her when he did it. Drew was only a renter. He didn’t have to justify himself to her. The knife slipped as Suzie cut the cheese. Enough blood dripped that she had to stop and deal with it. She set the knife down thoughtfully.
Why did thoughts of Drew fooling around with Miranda bother her more than Rob and his slimy ways? She headed for the bathroom for band aides.
There were two main halls on the ground floor of Suzie’s house. They came together like a capital T with the kitchen on the right of the cross piece, the bathroom on the left, and the front door at the bottom of the long hall. As she crossed the long hall, someone knocked on the door. Had she not been on the way to the bathroom, she might never have heard it.
The previous was Suzie’s House 16: Crying Over Nothing
This is Suzie’s House 17: Visitors
Next is Suzie’s House 18: For Want of a Band Aid
Kid Quote
Overheard from the boy playing Warcraft on the computer:
“You idiot! Do what I tell you to do!”
Even in games we can’t always be the masters of our universe.
Alice
The Tudors – Henry and Anne Get It On.
Just so you know, I’m the one who comes up with the cheesy titles. Mr. Al never thinks to give me one. Anyway, when we left off Henry was about to discover something about his virginal queen-to-be not entirely to his liking.
***
It turned out, or so Henry later claimed, that Anne had been “corrupted” while in France. That she had had sexual experiences that left her, technically, still a virgin. He did not elaborate on what the experiences had been. The king found this most disturbing after all the protestations on Anne’s part that she had keep herself pure for Henry’s sake. Hard to imagine what a woman like Anne could have possibly done that would constitute sexual contact, while leaving her virginity intact. Hmmmmmm.
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But no matter, If Henry had any doubts at that time he didn’t let them get in the way of his fun. He was getting what he wanted from the woman he wanted. It took a few months, but eventually Anne was pregnant. Henry just knew it was going to be a boy and shifted all his plans into high gear. On January 25 1533, Henry and Anne were married at Whitehall palace. It was a secret ceremony, immediate family only. All involved were sworn to secrecy. This didn’t prevent Henry from dropping broad hints while he was in his cups at a banquet a few weeks later. Henry’s drunken ranting weren’t the same as an official announcement, however. But it was just the sort of thing that spread faster than an official announcement.
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No doubt word reached Katherine. Whither she believed it or would hardly have mattered. Henry was on a campaign to make Katherine’s life a living hell. He was succeeding. Having God and the people on her side was small conciliation after Henry took Princess Mary away from her. News from Rome was bad. The Pope was behind her 100 percent. Way, way behind her. At the moment Clement and Charles were pax because Charles needed Clement’s support against the Turks, who were on the Empires eastern borders. Clement threatened Henry with excommunication. Again. Henry told him to piss off. Again. Clement said he REALLY meant it this time! Henry’s reply? “Yeah? Whatever.” Or words to that effect.
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By the time Henry and Anne were married, Henry had already decided to break with Rome. Clement didn’t know this, of course. He hoped against hope that such a catastrophe could be avoided. He really had no idea that his spineless waffling was one of the things that set Henry on his course. In February of 1533 Clement told Charles that Katherine’s case would be heard in Rome and Rome only. This time he would settle Henry’s hash once and for all, By God! He neglected to set a date for this big showdown. Not that it mattered to Henry. He had no intention of going to Rome. Physically place himself in the Emperors backyard? Not bloody likely.
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Charles was too preoccupied to do much. Invading England on Katherine’s behalf was something he had once been serious about. A number of things held him back now. One, a sea-borne invasion would be a huge undertaking. The logistics were daunting; assembling the ships, the horses and men, the equipment, the provisions, a staggering task. And the expense! It had been possible earlier, but all that manpower sequestered in the west while Johnny Turk was romping through the Balkans? The turbaned bastards wanted to sack Vienna! No, the timing just wasn’t right! The other thing was, as previously mentioned, Katherine herself. She was quickly becoming her own worse enemy.
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Mr. Al has already given me the next Tudor installment. It’s good, but I’m not going to tell you anything about it until Next Tuesday. Then hopefully we will do a Tudor Tuesday until he’s covered the last of Henry’s queens. I know it’s nothing to rival Tessa’s TMI Tuesday, but well worth swinging by anyway.
Alice
