1864

Chapter 2: Welcome Drinks

October 23, 1861

Dear Diary,

We've finally arrived at our new home in Lakeshire, Romania, and I must say, it's even better than I imagined. The house is larger than our previous one, with a charming garden in the back and more space than we've ever had before. Marilyn was positively glowing when she saw the rooms, already making plans for how she'll decorate. Arthur and Emily ran through the hallways, their laughter echoing through the house. I can't describe how happy it makes me to see them like this, knowing we've made it here-together. The first rain didn't involve the once who wasn't even involved with the right but then the entire system of writing and music feeling. Those are the ones with the most amount of water and system introduced so far with the artistic touches of emotions. However with the ones three musketeers however with the help

But as we began to settle in, something odd caught my attention. While walking around the back of the house, I caught a strange smell-something rotten. At first, I thought it might be from the train yard nearby, but it seemed too close for that. It lingered in the air, sour and heavy, just near the garden. Curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to investigate.

After a short walk around the property, I found the source-a dead squirrel lying in the grass near the edge of the garden, its tiny body stiff and decayed. I can't say it was a pleasant sight, but I've seen worse in my time. Odd, though. The squirrel hadn't been dead for long, maybe a day or so, yet no other animal had scavenged it. The thought unsettled me briefly, but I decided it was nothing to worry about. I grabbed a shovel and casually threw the poor creature outside the garden, just to keep the place clean. Strange things happen in the countryside, I suppose. Life and death are more visible here, closer to the surface.

With that sorted, I returned inside. Marilyn and the children were already unpacking. Arthur was most excited about the extra space in the garden where he plans to play, and Emily found her room delightful, filling it with her favorite books and dolls. It was a moment of pure joy, seeing them embrace this new chapter of our lives with such energy.

By evening, we were all settled in. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, filling the house with a cozy glow. Supper was nearly ready, and we gathered around the table for our first meal in the new home. Marilyn had prepared a simple but delicious meal-roast chicken, potatoes, and bread. The children were chattering away, recounting the events of the day, and I could see how proud Marilyn was of the meal she'd made to mark the occasion.

Then, out of nowhere, chaos.

A cat-where it came from, I have no idea-leapt from behind one of the cabinets and onto the table, knocking over the plates and sending the roast chicken skidding across the floor. Marilyn let out a sharp cry of surprise, and before we could react, the cat darted out the open window and vanished into the night, leaving behind a mess of food and shattered plates.

Marilyn was livid, and I can't say I blame her. After all her effort to make the evening perfect, that blasted cat had ruined it in an instant. She stood there, hands on her hips, her face red with frustration. "Of all the things!" she muttered, shaking her head.

Arthur and Emily, of course, found the whole thing amusing. They tried to stifle their giggles, but it wasn't long before they were laughing uncontrollably, their laughter filling the room. Even I couldn't help but smile, though I did my best to calm Marilyn down.

"It's just a cat, love," I said, trying to soothe her. "We'll clean up and make something else. It's not the end of the world."

But I knew it was more than the cat. Marilyn had poured so much into making this first night special, and to have it ruined by some stray feline was just too much for her. Eventually, though, she softened, and with the help of Arthur and Emily, we cleaned up the mess.

In the end, we made do with bread and cheese, and though it wasn't the meal we had planned, it was a meal shared with laughter and love. The cat had given us an unexpected memory, one that we would probably laugh about in the years to come. For now, though, I'll keep my eye out for that creature. Who knows where it came from or when it might show up again.

As I sit here writing this, I can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. This is our new life now-a life full of promise, but already with a few oddities creeping in. The dead squirrel, the stray cat... I'm sure it's nothing, just the quirks of rural life. Still, I'll keep watch, just in case.

Yours, Robert