Yours in Music, Pearl in 3/4 time...
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Yours in Music, Pearl in 3/4 time...
Friday, August 26, 2011
I Remain As Always, Your Devoted Miss Blue
Thursday, August 11, 2011
The way of the smile has always been mostly about the spacing of the teeth, Miss Blue, so you can imagine the outrage among the Village people when it became the newest look - the Missing Tooth Look. Even when a tooth falls out, dropping into the hand when least expected, there is no haste about visiting a dentist, just a quick glance in the little compact mirror in our purse brings a jolt of appreciation at our sudden change of appearance. Haute Couture in the Smile. Not everyone has a dropped tooth and that is what the outrage is all about! The Cheshire Cat himself, is very hurt that his smile has been tossed aside for the Missing Tooth Look! A sorry story, Miss Blue.
And that is how it is here in the Village, always forward looking, for better or worse.
Love, Pearl, reporting
And that is how it is here in the Village, always forward looking, for better or worse.
Love, Pearl, reporting
Monday, August 1, 2011
Dear Pear,
We have made the acquaintance of a tabor playing hare, Pearl, and he has made our days much more organized by tapping a beat for our every activity. He's the metronome when Fanny practices her recital pieces. He's the rhythm section when Louise beats a rug. He's the percussionist when Linguini is running through his tango steps. All in all a delightful addition to our household. And he asks for so little - a rumpled blanket under the stairs and whatever salad scraps Louise isn't going to use in her stock pot. Please write soon and let us know what news you've heard in the village.
I Remain As Always, Your Devoted Miss Blue
Sea Fever
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's
shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea gulls
crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like
a whetted knife;
And all ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
John Masefield
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's
shaking,
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea gulls
crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life
To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like
a whetted knife;
And all ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.