Saturday, June 16, 2007
Something Else For The Weekend Madam?
Fairy folk have been gathering pistils from mountain flowers. Collecting them by moonlights silver beams. Mixing them with dewdrops that have fallen from the new green leaves in the forest, and the tears of baby bats. Its expensive stuff of course. You aren’t going to find this sort of thing on the shelves in Asda. Rather it is delivered by elvish folk in little carts drawn by dormice to the finest shops in all the land. And what do you suppose they do with it precious? Well of course it is a secret. Mere mortals can never really know. Save only of course for the chosen. The cabal of female gender that specialise in the ancient arts.
Not (for once) members of the coven that She Of The Townhouse belongs to. No no, these sisters of Vesta (hmm maybe that should just be acquaintances of Vesta in view of other things I have heard about them) are the ones blessed in the secret arts of relieving women of minute snips of hair and colouring in the grey ones.
Generally they exchange their services for gold.
She Of The Town House is off to the hairdresser.
That reminds me. I really must trim my nostrils.