Hello dear friends! Welcome to February. It seems Monday gathered her skirts and ran without even finishing her tea. Tut-tut; manners!
The weekend was good. Relaxing. What I needed. Never long enough, though. A vacation is looooong overdue. As much as I am in love with the Manor and our quaint village of Willow-on-Sea, it's been a good ten years since I've had the pleasure of that blissful happening known as "vacation". I've even found myself wishing for Hawaii, and, as my husband has noted, that is quite odd coming from this British girl at heart. I love the sun and sand, but I usually pine for grey skies and the pitter-patter of rain on a roof. Yes, dear hearts, I'm contemplating a move to a tropical island!
The only news from the workshop I have to give is that I have finally (FINALLY) organized the attic and it's in excellent shape to begin hosting any crafting sprees I may take a fancy to. I had buckets of fabric and papers to shift around, a vintage sewing machine and a round table (don't worry, King Arthur said I could borrow it. Honest!). I even hoisted a trunk up stairs to hold my writing works in progress. And when I say hoisted I mean it! Not that the trunk was heavy; the stairs are more steep than I thought. It was quite an adventure and Lord Beard laughed when I told him. He knows better than to tell me to wait on him to move furniture :) I'm not against help, I just like to flex my muscles every now and then.
With the newly cleaned attic, I've got an idea a-bubbling on the proverbial back burner. A couple of mini-books are on tap. Now that I'm mentioned them here, I have no choice but to make them. Consider yourselves my personal tab-keepers. Mention something and people will expect it. Ha! Take that, Procrastination!
I do hope your week has started out well, despite the snow and sleet and rain that seems to have enveloped the country in a soggy quilt. Winter is here for a bit longer, dears. It is only February by the way. But today is Candlemas. Also know as Groundhog Day. If it's rainy and cold then spring is near by. If the sun shines, well, six more weeks of winter we can expect.
Of course, no one really believes these predictions, do they? I mean, superstition is just nonsense, right? Right? Hmmm, I'm not so sure. Not after Friday's adventures...It seems something strange is afoot here in Willow-on-Sea. When first we moved, I marveled at the suspicious glances of our neighbors as we bought dry goods. I grew concerned when we visited Brambry and were treated with what I can only regard as fear once it was made known where we now lived. I dismissed it as the well known cynicism towards newcomers that seems to be present in these old villages.
I inquired at the post office and Nancy laughed, nervously I noted, that I was being silly. Brambry was full of superstitious people, Father Algorium chuckled when I told him of my concerns. "Nothing to worry your pretty head about," he assured me. However, I've noticed things that I seemed to have missed during the initial rush of relocation excitement. Doors are barred at twilight. People rarely venture outside after nightfall. No one wants to talk about the Guthrie's strange disappearance. Not even Dr. Helmstrode. Benson chalks it up to "country ignorance". Alice's story, however, sheds a very different light on the subject.
Who's Alice? Well, I think it's best for her to explain her situation. She's in town right now with Sir Jon. Why don't you stop by on Friday. I'll have Cook bake her famous Death by Chocolate cake and we'll bring out the special reserve Assam tea. Prepare to stay a while. It's quite a tale.
Cheers and stay warm, dry, and well supplied with tea and crumpets,