Good morning Everybody, how have you been this week? I hope you managed to side step Blue Monday. And if you didn’t, looking at the positive, it is over for another year and we can dive head first into what I’m going to name ‘Peachy Friday’. This will be where we can all glow with health, friendship, cake (it’s a Victoria sponge today) tea and chatter. What do you think? I’ll pour if you find the cake slice…
As usual, the little houses are here to fill us in on the up to the minute detail of paper life with a short tale of perseverance…
Living on the Edge 198; Faded Splendour…
From a very young age Dorothy had always been the centre of attention and so no one was surprised when she took to the stage. She loved the limelight and rose to each and every role she played with a youthful zest that the cameras loved.
By the time she was forty eight Dorothy had starred in fifty two films and made countless television appearances. And then, suddenly the work just dried up as if a tap had been turned off. She found her agent mysteriously had urgent family business to attend to from which he never returned. The phone no longer rang and the letters, which had been numerous, ceased to drop through her letterbox.
At the age of ninety two, with her fortune dwindling, Dorothy decided that she would move to the tiny seaside village of Flotsam-on-Sea. She would ignore the newspapers’ cruel comments about her ageing façade with their then and now photographs. She was self-assured enough to be certain that her cracks, lines and fading colour gave her character and made her even more beautiful.
And anyway, she was far too busy to be troubled by such nonsense especially as, that afternoon, despite the easterly gale, she was treating the locals to a clifftop solo performance of ‘Gone With the Wind’… xxx
