Dear Diary,
I have remained sullen and aloof all day but little good it has done me. Father is obviously avoiding me so I suspect that Mother is the primary force behind this unwelcome excursion. I have endeavoured to illicit more information as to the purpose of this visit but all Mother would offer was; "All will be revealed in due course."
I offered to go tomorrow and get the ordeal over with, whatever it may be, but no, it seems I am not at liberty to do, even that. It seems there is a timetable to be followed and follow it I must.
Jane smiles knowingly but Fanny, I believe, knows nought. Mother knows that she would surely have told me the details if she knew.
"Per'aps you are to marry Mrs Norris and rescue her from widowhood," Ned offered helpfully.
"I wonder how painful death by axe would be?" I mused.
"Oh, Mr Austen, don't say such things! To end your life so." He looked genuinely earnest.
"Not me, you fool. You! If you continue with these ridiculous assumptions." I snapped.
The Parson was invited for dinner as it is to be his last service at Chapel tomorrow. He is going to live with his sister in Hellifield. Fanny was amused by that and tittered behind her napkin but I just wished to be alone and yet had to be sociable.
We were having roast grouse.
"Two large breasts for you Mr Austen," whispered Ned, as he put down my plate.
Despite my mood, I could not help smiling at how difficult it was for him to retain his composure, when I stuck my fork in his thigh.
Kristin Chenowith - Home
14 years ago
7 comments:
Dear Wayne,
I am concerned for you in your hour of need, I always jest at times of stress it is only a means to ease tension when the regular one has already been used for the night. I thought a bit of friendly teasing would help you not to be so worried about your impending visit to Mrs. Norris. I apologize for making light of your dire straits.
As for Ned and his flippant remarks both about death by axe and two large breasts if you please, no doubt that was to remind you of the deathly bosom of Mrs. Norris that awaits you. Has he forgotten that you saved him from near suffocation by that self same bosom? He deserved to be forked by you and forked hard.
Yours concerned,
B.
yo sir wayne! i posted those cheesy pick up lines for like 5 secs prior to your comment! wierd, cool wierd. like your blog, cool wierd:) peace!
This sounds more and more like Clarissa Harlowe, with you as Clarissa and Mrs. Norris as Mr. Lovelace.
Keep you knees and ankles tightly clenched, and answer with a resounding NO! if they try to bring you before a clergyman.
-h (It's Icelandic and probably unpronounceable)
My dear distant 'Hallbjorn?',
I have not made the acquaintance of Clarissa Harlowe or, unfortunately, Mr Lovelace. Many thanks for the advice, however.
Yours gratefully,
Wayne Austen
My dear Mr Narciso,
Er...........................................................................................................................................................
yours speechlessly,
Wayne Austen
My dear Mr 'Moose'
Your concern and support is always welcome, like the fur of a beaver on a cold and frosty night...I would imagine.
Yours imaginatively,
Wayne Austen
Dear Wayne,
I would have to imagine that too.
Doraphobia-ly yours,
B.
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