Pearl Continues the Story

The most important thing
In the kitchen
Was a large green and silver
Wood burning stove,
With oven doors
Of a beautiful shade of green;
Almost like the color of tulip leaves
In the spring.
And the name of the stove,
MARVELOUS,

was written in bold letters,
On a silver panel
That ran across the front
Of two very large
Oven doors.

And soon the stove was making the kitchen warm

And it was then that the older brother

Began cooking the pancakes

Until they were of a beautiful golden color

And dripping with the butter they kept

In a grey and blue crock with a tight lid

So that it was always as fresh

As when the brothers had churned it;

And then the thick syrup

Made from the blueberries gathered

That very morning from the fields nearby.

The brothers put up some of the blueberries;

Jellies and preserves shimmering in glass jars,

To have during the long winter months.

Oh Pearl,

We are so loving the story of the two brothers who are fishermen. Fanny says she has never heard a better one! Heavens know, a little distraction is a welcome thing around here. The monkey had thrown away the better part of a king's fortune before our own dear Vicar apprehended him outside the counting room. I have never liked that monkey, relative or not! But I have assured Fanny that we will get Melba dried out no matter what. And I intend to keep my promise! Even if it means I have to sell the Waterford dolphins.

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Pearl's Story, continued

Each day the younger brother
Carried in a stack of wood,
Just the right size,
From the woodpile just outside
The kitchen door;
And placed it carefully
Inside the firebox
Keeping the stove ready for cooking
And keeping the cottage by the sea
Warm and cozy.

Every morning the older brother

Made pancakes with buttermilk left

From the churning of the butter.

While the younger brother

Took care of the outside chores;

Milking the brown cow,

Tossing corn to the red chickens,

And feeding the pet goat such morsels

As molasses and carrots.

It was always the same;

Winter and Summer.

.

Dear Miss Blue,

So Fanny stays with you these days. Better you than me, Miss Blue. I picture you and Fanny sitting on the floor with Jacks and Old Maid all of a pleasant afternoon. A truly noble picture.

How intriguing to hear of Melba Highbottom and the Cure she is taking there in Switzerland. Do you suppose it has to do with her hiccuping problem? You HAVE noticed her hiccuping haven't you, Miss Blue? A nasty habit and one that would surely require The Cure. Please do keep me advised, I am hoping for the best. . . Pitiful as it all seems to be.

Good news that you and Fanny have enjoyed the first installment of the story. I will try to send along another installment soon. Until then,Pearl, Writing

Pearl Dear,

Fanny and I love the story about the fishermen! She is staying with me until Mrs Highbottom returns from the cure she is taking in Switzerland. We've played jacks and Old Maid until my eyes are quite crossed and parts of my personality have gone missing. So imagine how delighted we were to pore over your darling tale when it arrived this morning! We are so looking forward to the next installment!

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Pearl's Story, the beginning

Once Upon A Time
Just outside the city,
In a cottage white
With peacock blue shutters
On all of the windows,
Which they kept open in the summer
To let in the fresh ocean breezes
And closed in the winter
When the winds grew icy and cold,
Lived two fishermen

They were brothers
One almost ten years older
Than the younger one.
And there they lived,
Year after year,
For many years,
until they were very old.
Still, they worked hard and happily;
For there was much to do.

Pearl, I have just received the note you sent with the pigeon. He seems quite exhausted from his journey. I have fed him crumbs from our lunch and left him in the sunroom to dry his wings and take a nap. You must be very far away, dear Pearl. I expect writers do need to go far away from time to time. The madding crowd and so forth. So tell me more. You have started your opus? It comes in fits and starts? Do send me what you have, won't you dear? I think perhaps regular mail will be adequate for the job. Our feathered friend will be needing quite a while to rebuild his strength.

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Why Pearl,

Laugh and the world laughs with you? Weep and you weep alone? That is truly the way of the world. I'm sure your gentle reminders through the years were always appropriate. Dear, dear Pearl. You are and always have been the very soul of appropriateness.

And how wise of you to bring up the cat and the fiddle in the same conversation. You doubtless meant for me to notice how poignant is the little dog's laughter to see such sport. Is he laughing alone? Is his laughter a kind of weeping? And while we're wondering: Were Thing One and Thing Two merely humans in little red outfits? Or were they indeed a personification of the absent mother's fear of messy things? Are they - God help us - lint, writ large? My poor head aches, Pearl. Your insights are so keen it is hard to keep up with you. You would be a fine philosopher or comedian. A philedian! No. A comedopher!

I Remain Your Devoted Miss Blue

Dear Miss Blue,

On the stage with the most revered speaker, The Kingfish. How socially correct. You have followed his magnificent career from its humble beginnings there in the charming hamlet of Seymour to this moment in time - The Beloved High School Reunion. And all along you have joyfully laughed at the stories. Bringing to mind the lines, quoted off and on through the years(when appropriate) from a long ago poem - Laugh and the World laughs with you, weep and you weep alone.

And now, Miss Blue, you can enter the Holy City knowing you and the Pope do as the Romans do.

Pearl, writing whilst listening to Turandot (Pavarotti & Sutherland) this lovely Saturday afternoon.

Pearlish,
We are off to the heartland for a gathering of old school chums. Kingfish is remembered fondly and has been asked to say a few words to the group. I am prepared for the worst. It's at times like these that he tells stories about the laxative prescribed as a cough suppressant and other grisly tales from the company he keeps when he's not chez moi. I shall feign amusement, of course, as one should be as Roman as possible when in Rome. I would think even the Pope has forced himself to laugh for appearances sake, wouldn't you?

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Dearest Miss Blue,

High foreheads for transmitting the gem-like thoughts running up and down and across, much like the crossword puzzles so popular with the High Foreheaded creatures. I envy you, Miss Blue, for although the acronym was a surprise to me I was relieved to read of your explanation: The Solitary and Introverted Norwegians Society, SINS!  How heartless it felt for me, though, to be forced to remain outside the Winter Palace's great hand carved door covered with the ancient art of rosemaling as I am not by birthright a SINNER.  To imagine inside the great giant walls the glorious trunks and statues of brave goat herders alongside their constant companions, the chocolate brown goats. Standing there in rugged and beautiful Norway.

Pearl In Reverie

Pearl, of course! Eliminate them altogether! Brilliant!  My work with the Solitary and Introverted Norwegians Society (SINS) has predisposed me to favor fewer holidays and less small talk in general. As SINNERS we prefer telepathy over other sorts of communication. Our foreheads are high as a rule to facilitate the sending and receiving of our quiet messages. The layman may imagine a network of satellite dishes to understand how it is with us at our annual meetings in the Winter Palace.

Pearl, is there anything to worry about with all this talk of early primaries preceding the election next year? I'm concerned that we seem, as a nation, to be moving in the direction of butting into line. I certainly was not brought up to think that was acceptable behavior. Nor were you, dear blue blooded Pearl. Patience is still a virtue in my book and I shall continue to wait quietly whenever and wherever I see a line forming.

(What is your thought about the best way to proceed with our calendar project?)

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Dear Miss Blue:  Oh, it is a Daring idea, switching the two holidays! I will confess, Miss Blue, Labor Day in my lifetime has nothing but very bad memories. We children were put to work preparing tomatoes for canning. We sat on the Front Porch, along with baskets of tomatoes and pots of hot water and instructions on how to dunk the tomatoes in the hot water (our mother brought it to us in her aluminium tea kettle) for just One minute and then carefully slip off the skins. We did have a little lunch out there on the porch - tomatoes and lemonade. So pitiful. Labor Day. We hated the word. . . .

Over coffee this morning at Starbucks my thoughts went even further, Miss Blue - perhaps eliminating the two holidays altogether by popular vote. I hastily drew up the following ballot:  1)To Switch  2)To Not Switch  3)To Eliminate Altogether.  Comments? My work with the City Council is going well.

Pearl in Motion