Jan. 17th, 2011

Oh my goodness gracious Sylvia, it’s such a treat to see you again. Mwuh, mwuh.

Heavens Sylvia, I think you must be losing weight again, you’re just a slip of a thing. Oh, no, I’m sure you’re wrong; I’m as plump as ever. No, you’re too kind. Stop, you spoil me.

Why YES we simply must order several bottles of wine, darling, because I have SO MUCH to tell you. Yes, about our holidays. GHASTLY! Utterly the worst. Oh no no no, worse even than that. It was so dreadful. Oh disgusting, this glass is spotted.

Where was I?

WELL. Diggory and I have been planning this holiday for months, as you will recall, and I AGONIZED about where to go. You know I’ve always wanted to return to Corfu, with the beautiful statues, but then we thought we might have a cruise around Tasmania. I simply couldn’t decide, it was such a burden. But then Diggy’s golfing friends, who I have decided are congenital idiots, were all silly about Kaspia, how they loved it there, how beautiful it was, blah de blah.

Kaspia? It’s a small chain of islands. I think it’s in the Caribbean. Or was it the Bay of Campeche? I have no idea, all these seas, such a blur really. But Diggory came home simply MARRIED to the idea of going to Kaspia, with its blue water and white sands and lovely breezes.

Why NO darling, I don’t simply ROLL OVER for Diggy’s dumb ideas as a general rule. But he was so very determined – it was really quite unlike the man, he never shows any spine at all – that I allowed myself to be convinced. And I was even for a while sold that it might be rather lovely there. So we made plans and we went.

WELL. I’ll never make THAT mistake again. Oh, I’m sure it *could* be rather nice and scenic and relaxing and all, if it weren’t for all the stone gods descending on the place to mate.

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September 2012

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