Well, I have one tapestry in the sitting room by the armchair, too. That’s the one I’m working on now.
I’ve been stitching the frayed parts up with thread I liberated from the warehouse I used to order supplies from.
Perhaps I should keep a record of the places I’ve been to. Starting with Carousal Boutique, before Canterlot Castle. And then all my travels.
Although I have probably lost track of many of the places by now.
I remember sitting outside Appleloosa and watching the San Palomino desert as a blizzard deposited snow onto the sand, which must surely be rare.
Even now that the weather is somewhat chaotic I think it rarely snows in those places. Of course, as I said, I stayed for only a short time in that area of Equestria.
I slept there in the clock tower. I mean in the Appleloosan town center’s clock tower, not in the desert.
Not that there was a clock tower in the desert.
Though now that I remember it I left the clock tower and slept in the blacksmith’s workshop because the bell would occasionally sound.
Not that it ever woke me from sleep.
It upset me because it reminded me of Pinkie Pie and her fondness for dinging bells and deafening noise.
Once that same moon (more or less) I was almost hit by a cart filled with flowerpots with nopony commandeering it, which came rolling down a hill near the Appleloosan apple orchards.
There was an explanation for the cart coming down the hill with nopony attached.
The explanation being the hill, obviously.
After I jumped out of the way, I watched the cart careen down the rest of the hill. It came to a stop a little while down the road.
That event reminded me of the steep hill back in Ponyville. How many times had the homeowners association lobbied Mayor Mare to put up a retaining wall at the bottom of that hill, which would've prevented a number of near-catastrophic runaway cart and foal carriage accidents?
The answer being too many.
Still there is no barrier there.
A few moons ago I went and found some balls of varying types and sizes in the Ponyville Schoolhouse’s equipment shed, which I rolled off that steep hill.
They were all deflated, so I had to pump them up first.
This was, of course, irritating work, but I didn't mind it then.
In Canterlot I lived in Canterlot Castle not because of the opulence but because I could see Ponyville from many of the windows.
Living alone, one craves a view of her home and her friends’ former homes.
I have always admired the opulence as well.
Particularly I enjoyed looking at the stained-glass windows that depict some of the pivotal moments in Equestrian history.
I wondered then how I could stain glass windows. I tried to find a book in the library about the process, but I think I forgot about it, because I do not remember ever having stained any windows of my own.
Nonetheless I have always admired the artisans who made those windows.
Once, one of the artisans had come to Ponyville to interview the six of us who had defeated Discord.
He wanted to know some details of the confrontation so that he could later craft the battle on a window.
Obviously, it was not the battle itself that the artisan intended to make. What he intended to make was a representation of the battle.
One’s language is frequently imprecise, I have found.
At the Crystal Palace, I removed the crystal heart from its enclave so that I could sleep near it.
I am quite certain I intended to travel to Vanhoover around that time also, since there are a number of beautiful rivers there that I wished to see. But for some reason, at the Unicorn Range, I went back in the other direction.
Then again, perhaps I had actually gone as far as Smokey Mountain.
Well, often I surprised myself in those days with the things I did. Once, from the top of the Canterlot Castle stairs I dropped hundreds of tennis balls I had found in a court side store, so that they bounced every which way to the bottom.
Soon after I tried the same experiment with diamonds, letting them tumble down and glimmer in the sunlight.
Diamonds I found in the vaults of Canterlot Bank.
Watching how the balls struck different parts of the white stone and changing direction, or guessing how far down the diamonds would get (they don’t really bounce, I found, and I started to toss them off the parapets instead.)
Meanwhile I have just used the little fillies’ room, outside onto an apple tree I might add, where it is peaceful and serene.
And afterwards I went to the river and collected water for the day, noting the busted-up beaver dam’s remains on both riverbanks.
There are no animals anymore, either, as far as I can tell.
There is no birdsong. Nor is there barking, squawking, or any other animal noise.
Once I went to check all the hibernation holes near Fluttershy’s cottage.
Can it be called Fluttershy’s cottage anymore? Or is it the former Fluttershy’s cottage, or Fluttershy’s former cottage?
In any case, I went to see if there were any animals hibernating.
All the holes were empty.
Around the holes hung bells on ropes, which frequently rang. We had not gotten around to clearing away the wake-up bells from the last winter wrap up. Of course, some of the bells had fallen as the rope had dropped.
Anyway, there were no hibernating animals in any of the holes there.
For some reason I decided to fill in some of the smaller holes with dirt, which took me not very much time at all.
I decided not to fill in the bigger holes, though, for the bears.
And I stopped filling in the holes after I came to my senses. Even though I was filling in empty holes, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was really covering the graves of those poor animals.
Well, as I said, I was not of sound mind then.
The water from the river is about one hundred hoofs from the house.
I also have the Ponyville dam, though I rarely use that except when I am in town properly.
I could take water from the rivers in Canterlot and the Crystal Empire when I was there.
In the beginning I only drank bottled water that I could find.
Then I decided to boil stream water.
Eventually I discovered that I could drink from the streams without having to boil the water.
That was around the time that I became an expert fire-setter. I do not remember when I found I could drink the water I found in those cities, but I know it was around the same time as my fire-expertise solidified.
Now I have a fire going in the kitchen here all the time.
Also, Applejack’s kitchen has a large antique pot that is perfect for cooking stews and soups over the fire.
I have grown quite fond of that pot.
I wonder if Applejack ever wanted to get rid of it and install a modern stove cooktop.
No, I think she probably would’ve embraced the old ways.
If anything, from what I remember, Applebloom would be the one to protest such an old method of cooking.
Then again, perhaps she could see the utility of such a thing when it came to making zap apple jam.
Which, by the way, I tried very unsuccessfully to make several moons ago.
Even though there are no longer any timberwolves howling, the zap apple trees still occasionally bloom.
Fortunately for me, Granny Smith had written down the methods for making zap apple jam.
I tried to follow the instructions as best I could, but the jam still didn’t turn out any good.
Of course, there were several steps that were very difficult for me to do.
For example, I couldn’t find any bees to talk to, so I had to settle for prepackaged honey.
Also, I almost missed the final sign because I had forgotten to wind my clock, so I could only pick a few baskets of apples.
In the end it tasted horrible, I thought.
I have seen the zap apples bloom a few more times since then, but I haven’t attempted to harvest them and make jam again, though I have picked some zap apples and eaten them.
I have made cider since then though, which turned out surprisingly well.
It was easy enough to find the cider press, and through it was uncomfortable to levitate the apples into the machine while trotting on the belt, I manage to make several barrels every now and then.
Of course, it tastes nothing like the Apple family’s cider, but I think it tastes lovely anyway.
At least, I think it tastes different from Apple family cider. Though now that I try to remember the taste I find I cannot.
Now that the once-cultivated apple orchards are overgrown, there are apple trees everywhere, and the orchard is almost impenetrable.
Also, there are a variety of berries, fruits and vegetables (apples, carrots, celery stalks, colorful flowers, too) that have grown on the fields.
Beyond the window I can see the wilderness, but even though it is overgrown it looks inviting, rather than foreboding. Nothing like the Everfree forest.
It seems like a day in which there should be ponies singing, to complement the babbling stream. Unfortunately I cannot harmonize, and anyway I only remember flashes of the songs we used to sing.
‘Laughter and singing will see us through.’
I think that is a fragment of a Hearth’s Warming Eve carol.