Ohhh, you folks who enjoy walking down dank and dingy hallways... exploring has never been my forte, but I can see how it might hold some allure. All that dust and dirt, and clanking armour, even a ghost or two! Shivers down the spine... You never know what you'll find around the next bend, do you. Perhaps the Trifle which was lost? The huge, hairy jailor who manhandled Joan, and thrust her into that awful cell, has proven to be most helpful; he's managed to hang all the greens and banners, so our space looks spiffing. The food has been set out in a room next-door, which had long tables and various pulley attachments, which have been removed. Some of us did wonder if that area had been used for less wholesome events in prior days, but with the gingham curtains and a few 'throw' pillows, it looks very comfy now. One of the warders has closed the door, and holds the key - no hungry folks, or skinny rats, allowed before 12 midnight!! Emidy's band will start playing soon - but first, perhaps we can have a bit of a talk from Mistress Agnes, on how she manages her busy days in Darkest Devon; we all might be able to pick up a housekeeping secret or two (especially the warders). And fashion tips as well. Mrs. P. has managed perfectly well, even tho' she's wearing Mistress Agnes' third best bum roll; she and one or two Cornish gentlemen have been most helpful in setting things aright. Many of the prisoners have joined in, and helped polish the floors with potato sacks, which can now be used for clothing, tied with a raffish raffia round the middle. I've heard tell that some, due to this time of year, have committed a small crime so they're incarcerated here, rather than having to revert to the Poor House, because the food here is much more plentiful, and better prepared!! The reaction to that published piece of information was not to upgrade the P.H. food; no, it was to investigate how the gaol can provide such substantial fare, with the goal of reducing the pittance spent!! So the prisoners will thank us profoundly when we give them the 'left-overs' of our feast! Lorna is off finding the parrots, who we thought were delivering snacks to less fortunate prisoners - but no, they're busy klomping down the halls, and leading Lorna further into the dismal dungeons. Don't think the fashionable set will appear at our soiree on the dot of ten - isn't it now the fashion to arrive late? That's a very handy excuse, should Lorna miss the 'first dance' - but that would be such a pity! Lost in the dungeons, whilst cheer abounds above. 'Course, the red parrots, with their tiny boots, could sashay in an Upwards direction, and lead her back in time. Let's hope they choose the left passage. No! No! The LEFT passage. The LEFT! Are those fabulous seven-inch heels (SEVEN!) good for dancing? One could certainly pirouette nicely with them, it would seem, as they do keep a person on their toes. Perhaps you could stand in the center, all sparkly blue and shiny white, and hold ribbons, whilst lesser mortals weave around you while holding the ends of those selfsame ribbons - rather like a Maypole. It would be so festive!! Yoo-hoo, Joan! What ARE you doing in that cell, with that handsome dragon killer?? Or is he a Dragoneer? Dragoon? Am thinking I've had a bit too much Scrumpy whilst convincing Stevie that our gala should go forth - had a friend once say that after two glasses of such, he found the curb a little too high to climb over!! Hope that's not what is in store for me this happy, happy night!! Where is everyone, when one needs to sit down and stop the room from spinning........ Julianna, and two very concerned Keeshonds! (plus Shadow, who is now patrolling the dark and dingy hallways, in hope of meeting a skinny rat who didn't hear about our coming.....)