An invitation to a ball at the Brighton ballroom had arrived last week from the Marquess of Brunswick. I was dressed to impress in a new designer dress from Vivienne Westwood which had arrived at the Palace by special delivery on Friday afternoon. The Marquess sent invitation with his calling card attatched......see herein for yourselves........
It is fair to say that the gentleman's tassling accessories fairly pleased me and my intention was to attend the event.
I was to meet Princess Nathalie of the Hunters in the Art Bar around eight for the sharing of wine. The Princess was on good form, dressed to perfection as always. She told me a story of particular interest involving Sir Douglas of the Craigs and how he calls for her in the wee small hours when nightmares, phantasms and other hallucinations wake him from his slumber. The Countess was most surprised although I fear I may have misheard and that the Princess was referring instead to her son Little Lord Beau......the wines were from a supurb region and the events and conversations became confused and muddled in the murky corner of my climacteric brain. I will clear the matter up some other time. Meantime I see that Sir Douglas blossoms into a fine figure of a man. He works in the city of Londinium for a leading computer company and his expertise knows no bounds. I am quite keen that he be matched with any one of my daughters though sadly they are seemingly matched already for even Skye, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies found love this week with a gentleman who works in medicinal powders. I am yet to be introduced for it seems that the gentleman is afraid......I know not of what! Ah well.......the days are early and I may be successful for a match in the future........ Sir Douglas is of fine stock and a joining could swell the Countess' coffers.
Alas we were unable to attend the event at the Ballroom......the hours slipped through our fingers like sand grains.
Instead we went, accompanied by Sir Douglas of the Craigs of Aberdeen, to the castle of Sir Paul of the Edmond clan some fifty steps away.We decided the air would do us good and I sent the golden carriage back to mother's abode.
Alas the hospitality was more than favourable and hence I was not to return to mother's until today, this day a Sunday. How we danced and frolicked and misbehaved like small children for this is our way in Brighton when we reach the weeks end. Big Irish Jono was also in attendance (I have forgiven him his recent misdemeanors of which there are very many) and we danced so excitedly that a nail on my left hand was chipped......I have booked a manicure tomorrow as I am a woman of reputation, a woman of manners and of good grooming and my desire is always to stay at top of these qualities.
Sir Paul of the Edmonds was debonair as ever and was in generous spirits and gave as leaving gift two of his wonderful photographs. For those unaware Sir Paul is most famous having photographed Duran Duran, a band of roaming minstrel quite famous during the 1980's or there about. I am most pleased at the gifts, particularly a striking pose of the Countess in all her glory which will be available for view quite soon.
Sir Peter of the Jarrettes sent message last evening that he was available for party steps. I hear his ballroom dancing lessons go well and that the gent's Trinidadian and Tobagon genes are to be quite apparent in his hips as he partakes in the samba. Sadly by this hour one was quite 'done in' and so the quick hip flicking gent must save his libidinous maneuvers for another day.
My dear friend Sir Gaz of the Nuts sent word from Glastonbury that he is enjoying his time at a festival there. It seems there is much to do, wine and song and women......Sir Gaz may not return intact I fear. This very morning a Tory MP was to be discovered in the 'very important persons' water closet quite dead, no life in him left after the festivities.....just like the King Elvis of the Presleys! One prays that one's own demise will be more gracious....it would not be appropriate to pass this world with one's bloomers at one's feet.
Now, Mother's castle looks well over the cricket ground of Hove and I am told that Sir Elton of the Johns will play especially for us this very evening. sadly I have little interest in the maestro and have opted instead to accompany the Baron Rupert de la Mare who is most agreeable in mood this warm Sunday and will host a buffet at one of the Borough's fine places of dining specializing in Eastern flavours.
Thankfully the L'il Literati has supplied the Countess with a magic formula for the problems of heartburn and I am once again free to eat as my will demands.
Until tomorrow, God Bless you all!
I was to meet Princess Nathalie of the Hunters in the Art Bar around eight for the sharing of wine. The Princess was on good form, dressed to perfection as always. She told me a story of particular interest involving Sir Douglas of the Craigs and how he calls for her in the wee small hours when nightmares, phantasms and other hallucinations wake him from his slumber. The Countess was most surprised although I fear I may have misheard and that the Princess was referring instead to her son Little Lord Beau......the wines were from a supurb region and the events and conversations became confused and muddled in the murky corner of my climacteric brain. I will clear the matter up some other time. Meantime I see that Sir Douglas blossoms into a fine figure of a man. He works in the city of Londinium for a leading computer company and his expertise knows no bounds. I am quite keen that he be matched with any one of my daughters though sadly they are seemingly matched already for even Skye, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies found love this week with a gentleman who works in medicinal powders. I am yet to be introduced for it seems that the gentleman is afraid......I know not of what! Ah well.......the days are early and I may be successful for a match in the future........ Sir Douglas is of fine stock and a joining could swell the Countess' coffers.
Alas we were unable to attend the event at the Ballroom......the hours slipped through our fingers like sand grains.
Instead we went, accompanied by Sir Douglas of the Craigs of Aberdeen, to the castle of Sir Paul of the Edmond clan some fifty steps away.We decided the air would do us good and I sent the golden carriage back to mother's abode.
Alas the hospitality was more than favourable and hence I was not to return to mother's until today, this day a Sunday. How we danced and frolicked and misbehaved like small children for this is our way in Brighton when we reach the weeks end. Big Irish Jono was also in attendance (I have forgiven him his recent misdemeanors of which there are very many) and we danced so excitedly that a nail on my left hand was chipped......I have booked a manicure tomorrow as I am a woman of reputation, a woman of manners and of good grooming and my desire is always to stay at top of these qualities.
Sir Paul of the Edmonds was debonair as ever and was in generous spirits and gave as leaving gift two of his wonderful photographs. For those unaware Sir Paul is most famous having photographed Duran Duran, a band of roaming minstrel quite famous during the 1980's or there about. I am most pleased at the gifts, particularly a striking pose of the Countess in all her glory which will be available for view quite soon.
Sir Peter of the Jarrettes sent message last evening that he was available for party steps. I hear his ballroom dancing lessons go well and that the gent's Trinidadian and Tobagon genes are to be quite apparent in his hips as he partakes in the samba. Sadly by this hour one was quite 'done in' and so the quick hip flicking gent must save his libidinous maneuvers for another day.
My dear friend Sir Gaz of the Nuts sent word from Glastonbury that he is enjoying his time at a festival there. It seems there is much to do, wine and song and women......Sir Gaz may not return intact I fear. This very morning a Tory MP was to be discovered in the 'very important persons' water closet quite dead, no life in him left after the festivities.....just like the King Elvis of the Presleys! One prays that one's own demise will be more gracious....it would not be appropriate to pass this world with one's bloomers at one's feet.
Now, Mother's castle looks well over the cricket ground of Hove and I am told that Sir Elton of the Johns will play especially for us this very evening. sadly I have little interest in the maestro and have opted instead to accompany the Baron Rupert de la Mare who is most agreeable in mood this warm Sunday and will host a buffet at one of the Borough's fine places of dining specializing in Eastern flavours.
Thankfully the L'il Literati has supplied the Countess with a magic formula for the problems of heartburn and I am once again free to eat as my will demands.
Until tomorrow, God Bless you all!
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