Waiting for the Party to Arrive
(I pray ask dear Miss Bethany to pardon me of each and all disgraceful ways in which I've attempted to use eighteenth century English in this entry)
You might think me a little strange waiting for a party to arrive--in the sense you're most likely thinking of. But I'm not. Not in that sense that is. Confuddled yet? Well, this is how it goes. Back in the era of ball gowns, blood hounds, and poultry hunts (think Pride & Prejudice), a group of people traveling were referred to as a "party".
It's such a party that I'm anticipating. It should arrive sometime Tuesday, and the inclusion of which shall be: Mr Daddy, Master Matt, Master Josh, Master Stephen, and Miss Hannah. Master Matt has arrived back in Australia from Africa just this past week, and is one whom I haven't had the delight of seeing in over a year. Master Stephen much of the same description. His family has been residing this last year in China (they're Chinese, naturally), and his family is just now visiting our dear country for a few days. The description of Master Josh and Miss Hannah's abscence shan't need go pass the acknowledgement of their desertation--leaving Mrs Mum, the two Little Boys, and myself to survive alone for a number of three days with the quiet of a near empty house (attendance to cinema 1 has been as faultless as the showings).
Thank you, my dear ladies and gentlemen of blog land. That will be all.
That is--until the party arrives.
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