Well, I don't suppose it's quite midwinter but from where the prince and I sit it is certainly bleak.
There hasn't been much doing on the blog because, really, there isn't much doing here. We are still in preparation for the big Nutcracker production which will open next week.
I could eke out the blog by complaining about my boredom with Wisconsin winters. I personally am not a person who enjoys being glued to a house and a tv, eating and feeling my ass spread as I worry about driving conditions and other outcomes of weather extremism.
The original palace was in northern California where the first rain is justification for everyone to slow to about 5 miles per hour while hunched, white knuckled and grim lipped over the steering wheel.
Imagine how badly I handle snow!
White outs?? You must be freaking joking!
Nope, I'm not a country queen. I, like Marie Antoinette, am happiest at the center of an active and funloving court---yes, yes, I know about the Hameau but even that was plunked down right in the center of the park of Versailles, where the action was.
There were no Home Depots, no McDonalds, and no JCPenneys in MA's little hamlet.
I need shopping (real shopping; self respecting women don't like shopping at a clothing store calling itself a "Barn"), and cabs, operas, and ballet companies, theatre and restaurants (No, not Olive Garden and Applebees)
And if I see another Hobby Lobby I will surely puke.
The prince needs to know that food comes in more ways than through a drive through or on a bun.
Winter, however makes it hard to get about, and that makes for a cranky queen.
Since even deposed queens should refrain from dumping on those around them I've kept shy of the blog.
As it is, I sit on the floor in a corner of my room, hugging myself and rocking back and forth as I monotonally (is that even a word? It is now!) murmur "Chicago" to myself over and over.
Hell, we'll take a train.
