Van Gogh's "Bedroom at Arles"

Dearest Pearl,

At last! Elsie spent the morning here sharing photos and stories of her wonderful trip to the Scandinavian countries. After the excitement of being on board the Good Ship Lollipop with the fantastically magical (Hunter?) cat, the land tour was much more down to earth. She says that although Sweden and Denmark were incomparably beautiful, her heart was completely won over by the stalwart Norwegians and their simple ways. Elsie says she will redo her own mansion in the style of the little room she stayed in while visiting Harald and Sonja. Of course, the scale will be enormous rather than tiny. And she wants to add a few Louis XIV pieces and some beaded lampshades and a hand painted mural and a place for her birdcage collection. But otherwise the same. I'm sure it will be lovely.

I Remain As Always,
Your Devoted Miss Blue

Dear Pearl,

I wanted to have Elsie over for dinner today so she could show us photos from her tour of Scandinavia. But Melba would not relinquish the dining room where she performed tea leaf readings for her new beau Jasper B Sotted. It was clear to the rest of us that Melba's abilities as a psychic are poor - her predictions were uncannily similar to the ones she produced for Daphne's reading. But Jasper is convinced that she is not only beautiful but wise in an ancient powerful sort of way. He is determined to build his financial wealth on the recommendations of his lovely oracle. We're nervous about the whole affair.

I Remain As Always,

Your Devoted Miss Blue

when peas were glamorous

Dear Miss Blue,

Please inform Elsie Lavender that her story of the stowaway cat intrigues me. You see, Miss Blue, for the past several weeks - almost a month I would say - the Hunter Cat has been missing from his usual haunts here in the three backyards in the Village. At first I thought he had come down with the sickness brought on by the decaying leaves; some of the little creatures here and about are also sickly and have to be picked up and thrown in the garbage. Sad story I will admit.

But then, back to Hunter; no one has seen hide nor hair of him. He, so majestic in his white and black coat, sometimes strutting about as if to proclaim some sort of royalty and other times, stretching his body to twice its size as he carefully prepares to pounce on his unsuspecting prey - bird, mouse, chipmunk, rabbit - but that is his mightiness, Miss Blue. The wanderlust could have caught up with Hunter Cat; all the way to Scandinavia is not at all outrageous for a cat like Hunter.

I cannot piece it all together; yet, I am confident that the stowaway cat is our very own Hunter Cat! His stories must be mesmerizing to hear and even the eruptive use of profanity must give a solid lift to the stories he tells. I do believe that he will be home by Thanksgiving Day. I will save the gizzard and liver from my twenty-five pound turkey for him, as I usually do. In the meanwhile I will post flyers around the Village of Hunter's remarkable adventure!

Please write again soon especially if you have further posts from Elsie Lavender and the Scandinavian cruise.

With love, Pearl

Dear Pearl,

Elsie Lavender talks about nothing but the stowaway cat on her cruise of the Scandinavian countries, Pearl. The fjords paled in comparison to the talkative little creature who spun the most amazing tales of his travels. Elsie says he swore like a sailor, though, which made her nervous.

I Remain As Always,
Your Devoted Miss Blue

The First Artichoke
by Diane Lockward

Though everyone said no one could grow
artichokes in New Jersey, my father
planted the seeds and they grew one magnificent
artichoke, late-season, long after the squash,
tomatoes, and zucchini.

It was the derelict in my father's garden,
little Buddha of a vegetable, pinecone gone awry.
It was as strange as a bony-plated armadillo.

My mother prepared the artichoke as if preparing
a miracle. She snipped the bronzy winter-kissed tips
mashed breadcrumbs, oregano, parmesan, garlic,
and lemon, stuffed the mush between the leaves,
baked, then placed the artichoke on the table.
This, she said, was food we could eat with our fingers.

When I hesitated, my father spoke of beautiful Cynara,
who'd loved her mother more than she'd loved Zeus.
In anger, the god transformed her
into an artichoke. And in 1949 Marilyn Monroe
had been crowned California's first Artichoke Queen.

I peeled off a leaf like my father did,
dipped it in melted butter, and with my teeth
scraped and sucked the nut-flavored slimy stuff.
We piled up the inedible parts, skeletons
of leaves and purple prickles.

Piece by piece, the artichoke came apart,
the way we would in 1959, the year the flowerbuds
of the artichokes in my father's garden bloomed
without him, their blossoms seven inches wide
and violet-blue as bruises.

But first we had that miracle on our table.
We peeled and peeled, a vegetable striptease,
and worked our way deeper and deeper,
down to the small filet of delectable heart

Dear Miss Blue,

A Halloween Ball! What a splendid idea, staying out of the weather, music by Wagner, perhaps something from the Ring, Linguini playing Alberich. . . what a sight that would be! Anyway, Miss Blue, of course I will be there. It is good that Louise will be making the popcorn balls and taffy apples. I have re-created my famous French Doll costume just last night(after I had heard from you) a very jaunty look I will admit. Schubert will wear the clown outfit. Will someone meet us at the airport? We travel light these days, wearing our costumes beneath our coats. We will be carrying a small basket of goodies for all of you to share - chocolate pumpkins and witches - which will surely please the kiddies.  I suppose Melba will be the center of attention (as Lady Liberty), elegant as usual. By the way, will Louise be in costume along with on-stage, Linguini? Hansel & Gretel, just a suggestion.....

Now I will say adieu, adieu, good friend, adieu I can no longer stay with you.

Love, Pearl Admiring xo

HALLOWEEN BALL ALL SAINTS WELCOME

Dear Pearl,

We have solved the problem of the inclimate weather! A Halloween Ball to be held right here! Linguini will perform something scary from Wagner. Louise will make the taffy apples and the popcorn balls. Fanny will be a Woodland Sprite after all. And Melba will finally get to debut her Lady Liberty costume. Flyers are going out today. Will you consider attending?

I Remain As Always,

Your Devoted Miss Blue

Dear Miss Blue,

The Caterpillar suit, fuzzy and warm, made of alpaca wool and dyed the orange and black is what I will be wearing this Halloween. It isn't too late, Miss Blue, for my quick and creative fingers to fashion one for Fanny. I really don't think the other revelers will even notice Fanny in her Little Gourd outfit, especially were the weather to turn snowy or rainy the hollandaise soaked papier mache dripping off in slippery, non-elegant strands will surely make Fanny hopping mad!

Of course, looking at it all in another way; that is what Halloween is all about! Scaring and startling the folks with promises of the worst to come, promises settled with gifts of candy and apples, gum and pennies. She might search for special coins; some frightened folks will unknowingly give away Indian Pennies. We always hunted for the Indian head on the copper penny and showed them off at school the next day. Tell Louise to make the popcorn balls with vanilla syrup and the candied apples with the clear syrup - crunchy and much more beautiful than the brown caramel apples sold in the grocery store around here in the Village. I plan to make both. . .

Schubert sends his love to you, Miss Blue, and he wants me to take his picture in his Halloween Suit, and so I will. Perhaps a Clown Suit? Please write again, Miss Blue and I will settle down to telling stories of then and now.

Pearl, Overjoyed to hear from you again

The weather here has been dismal - cold and wet and rainy. Poor Fanny has completely abandoned her plans to be a Woodland Sprite for Halloween in favor of a costume that provides more protection from the elements. Last night she showed us her Little Gourd outfit. The papier mache head was a collaboration with Louise who - finding the idea of a simple water and flour paste to be barbaric - made a double batch of hollandaise for the project. Louise has always been a little suspicious of Art and its tendency to threaten good household habits. Viva la civilization!

I Remain As Always,

Your Devoted Miss Blue