To all Lads and Lasses So Inclined to come to the opening of Hope's Haven tomorrow. A bit of a description, I've begun about Hope's Haven
Hope's Heaven ~ From the outside doesn't look like much until you get close, as I do want it to be a real haven and not something I have to spend all my time defending against marauders and thieves and such. But if you get a bit closer, you'll see the artist's heart of me in sculpted and carved images and symbols on the rough stone walls ... probably something for everybody, but my favorites are the Oroburous (snake biting its tail), lots of spirals ~ all sizes, a heart now and then (okay, shoot me; I'm a hapless romantic), stars dancing and trailing light, my Wolf friend and a few others ... but you do have to look closely.
The door, heavy oak, imported from old Earth, very thick and imposing bears a simple Welcome to the Weary and the Bleary. If a spacefarer is very lucky, when (s)he knocks on the door, using the solid brass clapper ring beneath the welcome, and I peer through my little peeky hole to see who's there, if (s)he is very lucky, or I'm feeling especially generous, I will push the button (well there is some high tech on the inside, of course) that causes the great doors to swing open. Just be sure to stand back a bit.
Once inside, there's the bar, of course, and sometimes I still do my own singing. I don't even ask for tips. But I get the wandering spastrel (space minstrel) now and then, so depending on the playbill, it may turn into a racaus party, a maudlin connect the pirates and aren't we all buddies after all, or just a darn good show.
I'm especially proud of the bar...sterling silver. Very high prices for that on old Earth, and I wear a necklace that carries some of the same. The taps are all underneath so you don't see them, but I generally have whatever a person wants in the way of good to delictible draft, not to mention some ordinary and exotic good hard liquor to knock back.
There is a painting above and behind the bar. I did it myself in my youth, a picture of a long haired lass standing at the top of a butte, her head turned longingly to the stars. And what reward does she get for her gazing? Spinning stars and swirling galaxies, shots of light, the trails of ships she may one day fly, an indigo night with a full old Earth moon.
And, well, there's more ... of course the chairs and tables are also old Earth vintage, antiques, purchased very dear, but I would have only the best for my guests, and guests they are. No one who enters lays claim to Skyedaughter, but may call her friend after a time, if they're the right sort. If they're not, they usually get thrown out on their bums and don't bother to come back (although their are a few scorch marks on the great door, but I choose to see them as star fire). For the very weary, I have a few vintage overstuffed chairs and a sofa or two ... my colors, old Earth Sage and Ultramarine Blue.
Well, I've got to run. Just got a curtain call. Yes, I'm the spastrel tonight. If you stick around a bit, you might like what you hear.
