[NB: Due to the devastating coffee famine that has recently hit St. Roch Avenue, Richard has asked Lucy Pevensie to provide this morning’s blog.]
Hullo, there!
It’s me, Lucy! I’m so glad to see all of you. It’s been ever so long!
I’m currently hidden away at the back of a closet at my Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold’s. Edmund and I have been sent here for a fortnight while mum and dad and Susan go on holiday in America. It’s not too dreadful, really, except for our tarsome cousin Eustace. He’s always creeping about with his nose in everything. The other day, Edmund and I were having a jolly good time under the bedclothes when Eustace came in and bloody spoiled everything. Luckily, Edmund’s very skilled at taking on boys and gave him a good wallop to the noggin. Eustace fell over and hit one of Aunt Alberta’s favorite ceramic badgers, and now he’s on the outs with her! Huzzah! Bully for Edmund!
Sitting here right now, I can hear Eustace going through my dresser drawers. Blast! He’s got quite a thing for my underclothes, I do say. Edmund thinks that’s quite alright–in fact he rather likes it when Eustace prances about in my knickers. (Sometimes the two of them together can be more dreadful than anything.) Edmund will oft-times encourage Eustace in his tomfoolery, strewing my clothes across the bedchamber and forcing Eustace to dress up in them, after which follows an interminable wrestling match. With all the roughhousing, it’s a bit of a stumper why Aunt Alberta hasn’t locked us in our room and fed us naught but suet pudding.
Well, I do believe I must be off. I don’t really want to cross paths with Cousin E., but I’m afraid I’ve no choice. Edmund seems to think Aslan will be coming for us soon and he said he wants to play another round of physician with Eustace and me before we shove off. Cheers, then!
Your faithful servant,
Lucy Pevensie
P.S. Richard has just told me he intends to post this on the world-wide inter-thingummy. How exciting! Ta!
sturtle [dot] com 