Sunday, May 04, 2014

I wish I could say I've had either a productive or scandalous weekend, but it seems I'm becoming somewhat responsible in my old age! Relaxed evenings revelling in the springtime sunsets and musing over my writings have become somewhat the norm, and though I do miss my more rebellious stage, there is something I truly enjoy in the peace.

Tomorrow I turn the grand old age of twenty-four, and though it is no milestone, I cannot help remembering some of the years past. The blonde esquire and I were entranced with each other's company though we both were akin to the farce of our relationship, and further back I was loved on the Antipodean shores by a young Captain. Though I'm sure he is no longer so young.

I'm sure April wilted under the stare of a stern summer sun as the days lengthen and my homecoming is all the nearer. I cannot wait to see the Duke again, we have plans to rendez vous in two weeks after my trip across the Polish border, and my heart quickens at the thought. Six weeks is all I have left until the cloisters of the Convent at Brighthelmstone make themselves my home for the Summer.

Out of the blue I did receive a wonderful letter from the brunette who has returned to the Antipodean shores and I would not be surprised if I heard the chiming of wedding bells as she seems so caught up in her romance. I'd be so happy for her, should the occasion arise, but I do hope I am able to find the time to attend a wedding twelve thousand miles away. But then, I shouldn't fret, as the proposition has yet to be made.

Jeeves has kept me company all through these lonely nights and it is interesting to talk to him of things all supernatural. We are a suspicious pair, and it doesn't take much for us to scare each other in the middle of the night with stories of ghouls and ghosts. I have taken to writing a fair few stories of my own, though it's more difficult than I first anticipated.

I shall leave for now. The sun is shining and there are barely visible whisps of clouds in the sky, so I want to make the most of the fine weather. When next I write I shall be a whole year older, if none the wiser. 



D. S.