The fix for the photobucket fiasco seems to have come to Mozilla Firefox too now. Get it here.
And here‘s the Chrome version again.
Happy Simming 🙂
Apologies for the lack of updates. My boyfriend and I recently moved house, and I’ve been busy every day ordering and assembling furniture. When I have a project like this I tend to zero in on it and it’s difficult for me to focus on anything else relax until it’s done.
I had hoped to have another Snordwich update for you before it all kicked off but I was just a bit too slow. I have all the pictures taken—a week with the Yates family covering Lady Snordwich’s funeral—but they’re on my desktop, which I haven’t been able to set up yet. After this Monday there’s nothing more to do with the house until the next round of deliveries arrives, so I hope to be able to get to it some time in the week.
Anyway, things are winding down and over the last few days I’ve become a bit more human and have been enjoying reading your comments and updates once more. As usual, I would especially recommend Mastress Alita’s charming Cat Chronicles, which always lifts me up when I’m feeling overwhelmed. And of course happy simming to you all xxx
To commemorate the wedding of Lord Snordwich’s heir, I made a little family tree. Full size here.
Sitting at his own wedding feast, Roger is still surprised to find himself a married man. This is not how things were meant to go. His wife Matilda was chosen for him by his father, a noble bride to carry on the Cecil line. Last week Lord Snordwich came to watch his lessons, and at the end of his visit made it clear that during the celebrations he did not expect his son to try to dance or shoot, or do any other thing so poorly as to bring shame upon the family.
Roger, though, gave up trying to please his father a long time ago. Defiantly, he plotted to dishonour him by publicly refusing to accept his choice of bride. Yet when he saw her, shining bright in Howard green and gold, his courage failed him and he spoke his vows.
Matilda and he will not live together as man and wife until she is old enough to bear his children safely. Perhaps that is for the best, Roger reflects, since he can’t even get up the nerve to talk to her. Last night they walked quietly together in the gardens with her brother Sir Jacquemon, but Roger’s mouth was all dry and he almost tripped over his own feet.
Getting nervous all over again, he turns his attention to the dishes before them. He thinks he will like the herring best—boiled in something red, probably nectar—but his mother sends word from the other side of the table for him not to neglect the meat. She is still trying to make a man of him, he thinks with irritation, and has Alberic Roussel heap still more of the fish onto his plate. He can follow through on this small act of rebellion at least.
He looks out over his father’s hall, packed full of guests.
It has been a difficult year for the baron and his wife. They had hoped that Roger would learn enough discipline, courage and courtesy from Sir Thomas to be sent to serve Lord Effenmont, but when they saw the boy at the Feast of the Nativity, they could not ignore how little he had improved. And his younger brother, of course, does not do much better at home.
Concluding that introducing Roger to any their powerful friends would do his prospects more harm than good, his parents determined to secure a bride for him before word of his temperament could spread. Over the past few weeks, they have been back and forth between Snordwich and Effenmont several times, negotiating a marriage contract. The earl would not part with his own daughter to a boy whose father apparently did not think fit to send to serve in the household of a peer; but he was at last willing to offer his orphaned niece, Matilda Howard.
The wedding will take place next spring, although the young couple will not live together as man and wife until a few years later. Lord Snordwich is relieved to have the negotiations behind him, and to be back in his own home with his friends.
His marshal and chief household officer Gilbert Grancourt is also glad to have his lordship home and entertaining guests. He is happier at Plumbob Hall than he was in his own household, and happier still when he has even more work than usual to undertake. In fact the more horses he has to stable, the more complicated arrangements he has to make, and the more detailed records he has to keep, the less gloomy and spiteful he feels.
I’ve been very busy over the last couple of days and somehow missed that Photobucket has stuck the ability to embed images on 3rd party sites behind a hulking great paywall.
I use Photobucket to host most of the the images I share on this blog, which —as you may have noticed—are now broken.
Fortunately, I have backups of them all, but if Photobucket sticks with this decision, I am still going to have to go through hundreds of posts and re-embed thousands of images. I apologize for the inconvenience and I hope you will bear with me while I slowly work my way through this tedious process; I imagine it will take me quite a while.
In the mean time, if there is a particular post you’d like to see sooner rather than later, just drop me a comment at the bottom of it. As always, I have anonymous comments enabled for those of anyone who doesn’t want to sign in.