Meowbe for you. Not for me. It's just what I grew up with honestly. They had this fluffy white crusty bread in the Capitol. It was pretty delicius in its own right.
Not unless I can find my own calendar here and figure out how it matches up. I'd need an English calendar as well; I haven't got mine completely memorized.
[He gives a grumpy little grunt.]
It's been insinuated - by others, right, not by you - that knowing the seasons and approximate dates should be good enough; that I'm just being picky and quibbling over details that aren't important by insisting that I need to know the exact dates. But those details are important, to me. Our calendar's old, very old, and so are most of the holidays. Celebrating them on the same days they should be celebrated on, the way we have been for generations and generations and fucking generations, and the way my family would be at home - that matters, you see?
I understand. No. Well I don't really. I don't have traditions like that. [She settles her hands in her lap, glancing down at them ] But I can understand the sentiment. It's important because not just because of what it's for but how it's always been. Doing things for the people who came before you, because it means more because of them? And you doing them means more because they did.
Um, I know I've seen some chickens....Aletheia? The one who lives in a tree, that one. [She wrinkles her nose] I know I've seen other ones but I'm still meeting most people! But--[She leans forward, elbows on her knees and chin propped in her hands] Why don't you bring your bread and I'll make something and we can trade traditional foods.
So, this Saturday or next, you should stop by. I have that absolutely beautiful mosaic-- [pause] It occurs to me that you probably already know where I live. You wrote a note and everything.
Oh--no I'm not that good with my hands for things like that. I love art but I've never--my little sister is much better. She painted this little bulletin board that I have at my place. But I really like the mailbox, it's so beautiful. When the light hits it right, it throws off such brilliant light.
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[Look, he has to comment on that one; it's a lot more pronounced than the other puns.]
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[He stretches his legs out with a sigh.]
No, they wouldn't work on this calendar.
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[He adds, sounding just slightly defensive:]
And that's important.
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I'm sorry then. I...well are you still going to try to celebrate them?
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[He gives a grumpy little grunt.]
It's been insinuated - by others, right, not by you - that knowing the seasons and approximate dates should be good enough; that I'm just being picky and quibbling over details that aren't important by insisting that I need to know the exact dates. But those details are important, to me. Our calendar's old, very old, and so are most of the holidays. Celebrating them on the same days they should be celebrated on, the way we have been for generations and generations and fucking generations, and the way my family would be at home - that matters, you see?
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[He sighs.]
Yes, that's it.
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[She fiddles with what's left of her cookie, breaking off little bits of the layer and nibbles it.]
When do you make the challah bread? Is it for any particular holiday?
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Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, yes. So Wednesday today. Noted.
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[And to her suggestion, he gives a nod.]
I'd like that, yeah.
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