How like you to quote the tragic prince re the hanging cups, Pearl. The Bard himself would have approved of the homey way you capture the dilemma: To chide or not to chide? I feel quite certain this is probably just what he had in mind when he penned the part about the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. But one can never be absolutely sure, of course. Like most famous people, he is dead.  (I do think it is always better to chide when in doubt. It sometimes loses friends but it does so keep the wit sharp. And that is the important thing, is it not, my friend? Keeping the wit sharp?)  Of course you made a great impression on me when you pointed out how the fluttering of the cups in the wind is so much more a poignant reminder of the human condition than their mere lounging about the cupboard could ever be. You are a poet, Pearl! Even when you don't rhyme, you are always finding the speck of grandness that is in everything good.

I Remain Your Devoted Miss Blue