Marry Chris' Mass!

Here is a scrimshaw of Flarq's dear wee pet, Narq.

I expect his barq is worse than his byte, my poppets.

All the happy band of adventurers (and one or two bad hats) are spending the holidays on Conch celebrating the Feast of the Not-Havety, where the poor peoples of the world are given gifts and aid and frankincense and mirth. For the good Lord knows they need it. Also there is some Orthodox Whalish observance, but no one hereabouts could tell me anything about it, since the local British-Conchans are mostly Reform Whalish.

However, keeping Gus' holiday card in mind, it's probably something to do with downing rather a lot of Yule cheer and spouting all over the parlour. And that I will not have. Not the cheer, of course. NO one can spout properly through the top of their heads; it generally comes out the mouth and, less appetizingly, the nose. Thus, it's a rather insanitary and unhygienic rite.

Oh, I am in such a frenzy of cleaning and preparationing and propositioning of the Council to render a special License for a block party. The very nice Tortolan steel pan orchestra from Much Wittering-sur-le-Bank has offered to play for a celebration, and they're also offering to help with recipes. This promises to be a special treat; I only hope we can find enough spices and jerked goat.

Speaking of jerks, goats and otherwise, no new arrivals again this week. My current guests got very nostalgic this evening; they booked the Gentlemen's Lounge for the evening owing to the fact it's got a large-screen telly (thank goodness the license for THAT is paid up). I declared it non-smoking for the nonce, since the very pretty sisters had an aversion to tobacco. They all seemed to be having a grand time, except that there seemed to be some sort of problem with the volume control.

Every now and then they would simply chant "Shut up! Shut! Up! Shuttup! Shuttup! Shut...UP!" This was generally when either a loud not-so-young man with a rather feeble hold on reality and his place in it was on screen, or when an outwardly lovely, inwardly despicable young woman was complaining about the accomodations.

Well, she shall have nothing to complain about here should she darken the doors of my establishment. If the Tortolans decide to stay for a while (this party thingy may turn into a regular "giggle" for them)I shall put the prissy princess in the room next to them, as it appears she could use some cultural enrichment.

In any case, the plans for the party proceed apace. And there is plenty of kennel room in case Flarq should want to bring Narq, though of course the Pet Refreshment Garden is in winter mufti for the next few months and not at its best.