Well, it’s over.  The gift that just kept on giving has finally come to a close and our lives can be somewhat restored to the existence we knew when this whole mess began.

I won’t lie to you, though; it got quite dodgy there for a while.

It really was the milkmaids and the cows that broke me.  I was up to my ears in birds but I thought a good cat would take care of my problem.    When the little hussies and their 400-pound friends traipsed across my Black Forest maple floors, I knew I had to be a bit more aggressive towards the situation.  But, you know what they say, it is better to give than too receive so the spread the wealth to all our friends.

My first order of business was to send one of each to our fair Miss Woodhouse telling her that her mantra of always show kindness must have rubbed off on me.  Her thank you note was “terse” to say the least.

I sent the partridges to young Master Robin since he is so fond of small animals and trees.  The turtledoves went to Detective Holmes; maybe he can figure out what a turtledove is good for.  I did keep most of the chickens – and they are delicious.  The calling birds were crated up and sent to Mr. Rosencrantz and Mr. Guildenstern; I imagine their silly game of questions is something to behold with 32 idiots birds responding to each volley.

As for the rings, I sent one to Lizzy Bennet with an unsigned card.  There is a possibility that I might have sent it to Pembroke by accident.  I kept a few and sold the rest to the Count; he says he will use them as key rings, which is silly since I know since his Mercedes is out of commission.

The geese were sent to Charlotte in the states.  They’re eggs will keep that rat friend of hers busy and I wonder how many nasty notes she has time to spin in her web as she tries not to become dinner to 35 geese.  As for those swans, the viscous little creatures, I had them shipped off to Catherine at Thrushcross Grange.  Like goes with like, yes?

The “maids” were given the address of that wretched Alisoun over in Bath; let’s see how she likes dealing with floozies in her own home.  The ladies dancing seemed nice enough so I gave them the address to the Chateau and off they went.  Naomi still hasn’t sobered up enough to realize she didn’t invite them.  The lords have been sent to Hester Prynne, poor dear is still single and that nice priest friend of hers does not seem to be doing so well.  Well, all the lords except Gustave – I asked him to stay a bit longer.  Oedipus seems to enjoy the Pipers well enough.  You know, when one sense goes, the others are heightened.

As those lovely gentlemen and their drums?  I opened the attic door and told the bitter witch she had company.  How do you like your banging now, Bertha?

Now, if you will excuse me, I have a nice cup of tea and Gustave waiting for me.


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