Goodness, but I think I’ve worn a hole in my slipper! I haven’t danced this much in ages (okay, at least since the Harlequin party in July). Supper was most congenial, and I didn’t even spill syllabub on my gown (my gowns seem to have as much an affinity for syllabub as I do!). The musicians are taking a well deserved break, so we have an opportunity to chat before the final set begins.
I must tell you some lovely things happening soon on Nineteenteen. The delightful Cara King, whom many of you know from her witty comments on our blog, has agreed to join us for a new adventure, the Young Bluestockings Attend the Cinema. Oh, the cinema? It’s like the theatre only the players are on little moving pictures. Terribly forward-thinking, but then we do tend to live dangerously here at Nineteenteen. What you may not know is that Lady Cara is quite educated in the theatre arts and has been known to tread the boards herself. Shocking, I know. Marissa and I are quite looking forward to her first post later this month, on the 25th. I’m sure she’ll acquaint us with the idea further then.
Marissa is also working on a few new authors to introduce to you as well as more on dits about the royal household. And I will be finishing up our Grand Tour before moving on to some rather dashing young scientists you must meet.
But I should not be doing all the talking! We have noticed that you’ve been quiet lately. We hope that’s simply because you are so delighted with our brilliant ramblings. We do like to hear from you. We recently removed those pesky conventions that hindered commenting. So, if you have suggestions on things you’d like to see us discuss in the coming year, please share.
Ah, here come the musicians. I do believe that’s the Sir Roger De Coverly I hear. That is the traditional final dance at many balls. Join me for one last dance, and then good night, my dears, good night!
