The Diviners
“Morag turned on a small lamp on the sideboard and poured herself a careful scotch. Pure malt whiskey. Royalty cheque on small continuing sale of previous books received yesterday and this was the celebration. Or Thanksgiving libation, as the case might be. The case. Did anybody actually buy scotch by the case? Imagine sauntering into the liquor store and saying casually I’ll take a case of Glenfiddich.
Morag sat down in the big old armchair beside the kitchen window. The chair she had purchased... in McConnell’s Landing for two bucks fifty, and Maudie Smith had cleverly and beautifully recovered it in grey felt embroidered with leaves and flowers in brash shades of pink and green. Damn Maudie for being able to turn her hand to anything. Or rather, bless her for being so generous with her time and her work.
On the scotch bottle was the motto of the Grant clan. Stand fast. Morag sighed. Didn’t any of them ever have mottoes such as, let’s say, Take It Easy or Rest Your Soul? Nope. Stiffen the spine.MoreLess
Morag sat down in the big old armchair beside the kitchen window. The chair she had purchased... in McConnell’s Landing for two bucks fifty, and Maudie Smith had cleverly and beautifully recovered it in grey felt embroidered with leaves and flowers in brash shades of pink and green. Damn Maudie for being able to turn her hand to anything. Or rather, bless her for being so generous with her time and her work.
On the scotch bottle was the motto of the Grant clan. Stand fast. Morag sighed. Didn’t any of them ever have mottoes such as, let’s say, Take It Easy or Rest Your Soul? Nope. Stiffen the spine.MoreLess
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