Thursday, November 13, 2008
Dear Maud,
Yes, my friend, I confess: a year, no less, has elapsed since our last exchange. Here, though, our exile ends!
In that time – a veritable annus of inattention – little of import has come to pass. Like moths, our flimsy souls have fluttered a-more for the moon, only to fall at the feet of idols on its going down.
Even so, our haunt – the famed and fabulous Eggnham Castle – begins to bear signs of our airy existence. Gardens have grown, paths have opened, and Yeoman’s Hut, once the home of a lone lorn Pole, has begun its inevitable transfiguration, prompting me, like Ovid, to petition the gods:
‘You heavenly powers, since you were responsible for those changes, as for all else, look favourably on my attempts.’
That, too, stands for this missive, which I now dismissive.
Yours etc.