CT Style, 1.1

Session 1, Entry 1 | Participants: Nate Sager (DreamsInPixels) and Bradley Heffner (from the Heffner Legacy)

The farmhouse stands at the edge of the shire, near the bend in the road that brings travelers to town.

I fell in love with the place at first sight–its windows, porches, and gables, its ponds and gardens and gazebos.

When the procurator told me that the franchise would be housed here and the coordinator would live here full-time, I knew then that I wanted the job. You see, the farmhouse feels like home, and as an artist who’s not yet been discovered, I could think of no other way that I could afford to live there.

So I accepted the position. It’s not that I know much about love: or rather, I know a lot about the love that I feel–for oak trees and birches, for the way sunlight glances off of Michaelmas daisies, for the smell of oil paint and linseed oil, for the feel of a stretched canvas and a new bristle brush, for the light of enthusiasm in a blue or brown eye, for a lock of hair that smells like lavender… I can tell you all about all of my loves.

But what do I know about helping others find theirs? I only know how to live and how to laugh, so that is what we’ll do here, in this old farmhouse at the bend of the road.

It’s got room aplenty for five guests and me.

We have what everyone expects these days: a few computers with fast Internet, a digital tv, a coffee maker and an espresso machine, and enough bookshelves to keep any reader happy on a long rainy Sunday.

The porches look out over wide meadows towards distant mountains. Some nights, I smell snow as the wind rolls down from glacier to field.

My duties are light: housekeeping, cooking, and maybe, if needed, supporting the guests as they seek love. I know my limitations, and my few strengths, so I’ve decided that the best support I can offer will be to listen and to share.

I anticipate that when dishes are washed, pies baked, coffee brewed, and guests happily gallivanting, I will be left with plenty of  time to pursue my true passion, painting.

I had the first day all to myself. It was busy–taking care of the garden took a few hours, and then there were beds to make and coffee beans to grind and brownies to bake, but I did manage to finish one small landscape before the first guests arrived.

When they came, they stood at the front fence, gawking at all the flowers.

“Smells a little like a donut shop!” said Bradley Heffner.

“No,” said Nate Sager, “it’s more like jelly beans!”

I had to laugh–it’s the nicotiana and petunias. The scent from the blossoms is so strong, especially right there by the fence, that all one can smell is confection!

Bradley and Nate were both tired from the trip, so I showed them to their rooms in the west cottage. I think they were asleep before I got back to the main house.

I rose before the sun to make spinach frittata for breakfast, and Bradley joined me just as I was taking it from the oven.

“I don’t know when I’ve slept so good,” he said. “Did you put something in the air?”

“It’s the flowers!” I replied. “They’ve got special properties!”

“You should bottle that up,” he said. “Sleep-in-a-bloom!”

Nate came in while we were laughing. He didn’t look like he’d slept that well.

After a shower, he seemed to be feeling a little better.

“Where I come from,” Bradley said, “everybody, everywhere knows our family. It’s like you can’t even step outside without the gossip columnists following!”

Nate chuckled. “My wife was famous like that. Claire Ursine? Maybe you’ve heard of her. Plenty of mystique about her, and she inspired plenty of cheap magazine headlines. But no one knew the real her, except me, Rose, and Robin–those are our kids.”

“I’ve heard of her!” Bradley said. “Famous criminal, right? Jewel thief?”

“She was an angler,” Nate replied.

“Right!” said Bradley. “Just like Meatballs is a used car salesman!”

Anyone else might have been offended by that remark. But Nate, he’s got a goofy sense of humor, just like Bradley and me, so we shared a good laugh over it.

I’ve got a feeling that we’re going to be getting along just fine, so whether our inaugural guests find romance or not, at least we’ll have friendship.

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