I am so surprised that I have managed to keep going this week. I have had a rather severe sinus infection,leaving me feeling very tired and poorly,but seemed to still stay on my feet. Work was piling up round about me ,but I got through it all,apart from some overdue filing. Dr. Scroat did give me some capsules to rid myself of the Sinus Demon,but neglected to tell me that it would take about seven days for me to feel significantly better.......
Any way I did not take to my bed,and still managed to keep our little toadstool running..
Meals miraculously appeared on tables, washing miraculously dried on the rope outside, and my column in the Daily Scandal miraculously got finished and submitted.
Pendragon has been a virtual saint ,offering help and support beyond the call of the devoted paramour,and attempting to ensure that I received adequate nourishment along the way.
I am gradually improving,and hope that the coming week will see me restored to my usual rude health. On Tuesday I visited the Faery Seamstress for my first dress fitting.She had prepared a calico copy,and wanted to see me strut my elven stuff in it so that she could custom fit the bodice.We had a lovely time with myself, the Faery Designer and the Seamstress herself laughing about past experiences we had had trying to buy appropriately fitting clothes and shoes. The hour passed very quickly and I left at three very happy. My betrothal dress is going to be truly beautiful. The material we have chosen shimmers and shines. Next week I have an appointment with the Underpinning Expert to fit and choose some exciting underthings to wear with my dress. I have also been looking for red slippers with a low heel to accompany my outfit.
And a pretty Rennaissance cap to set it off,maybe in burgundy fabric,maybe in white.......maybe with a veil,maybe without. I don't know which. I need to think some more about it.

I journeyed on the tram to Metropolis to see the Seamstress,and had to wait a while at the Tram Stop for it to arrive. Imagine my surprise when Mimsey Dagwort crossed the road in the direction of the Tram Stop. She looked very different from the Mimsey I have seen lately, the down-trodden, heart- weary Mimsey.
She has had her hair moulded into a bob,has had the bob coloured in golden blonde hues, and has started to take an interest in her clothes again. She was dressed fromm head to toe in a smart black suit,and was carrying a white clutch bag. Her heels were low and black patent leather with a buckle. She looked ten years younger than I remember her,and seemed to have regained her confidence,at least in the way she looked. I smiled over to her,hoping that we could pass the time of day till the tram arrived. But my smile was not returned. Alas, she caught my smile,and turned away,raisng her nose just a smidgeon and staring into the blue beyond. She clearly did not want to converse. I did not pursue the encounter. When the tram arrived,I was first to board,and as I sat down I saw Mimsey climb the stair to the top deck avoiding any further opportunity to chat. In Dingley Dell folk always chat at the tram stop,whether they know each other or not.I must try not to be offended by her behaviour. I daresay she is still recovering from the wrecked hedge debaucle,and may feel her neighbours were less than understanding over that. Maybe she felt I might raise it with her in the conversation, and could not cope with the embarassment. I would not, and I won't . Ever. Maybe she fears uncomfortable questions she might find difficult to answer about life at number ten.

Or maybe she is just a snooty strumpet with bad manners,who needs the wind taken out of her anti-social sails.I am sure Jeraboa will take care of that some dark and windy night, if he hasn't done so already. And maybe then she will regret having snubbed the friendship of a caring neighbour in Lobelia Drive.

Suffice it to say, the social networking ball now lies very firmly in old Mimsey's court .
Pendragon has counselled me not to worry about it,and not to assume she was being rude. Maybe she is just shy,he has proposed. Maybe she is just shy. And maybe she is just snooty.
I'll keep my powder dry for a while,and see how the situation unfolds. I have a feeling "there is something rotten in the state of Dagwort" and no doubt we will all smell it loud and clear eventually.

Tomorrow will be a big day for me with the Theatricals . We are going to be given our roles in the forth coming production, and may also begin serious rehearsals. Last Sunday we had to improvise scenes of sadness and distress, in a supposed care home for the lost and bewildered. It turned out to be both funny and moving. I love my work with them and Sunday has become a day which I really look forward to.
Remindur has worked hard with us,and has prepared us well to take on some punishing dramatic roles.

Tonight Pendragon is cooking us a meal ,and I am taking it easy. I am still coughing a bit,and still need to occupy myself with some tender medical ministrations. There is a fair old bluster in the air outside,and everywhere we mourn the loss of a summer which never deivered its early promise. Berries and nuts are flourishing in the local trees,and it can only be a matter of time before the first orange leaf curls and falls. I shall be ready to catch it and fly with it into Autumn Days.

With love to you all ,my weather beaten companions, and may Sunday still be a fun day for you all.
From the coughing and sneezing, sniffling and wheezing Amarantha,the delightful Miss Willow from number five,Lobelia Drive,fifth toadstool from the left.