Oh, That Countess.....

Everyone knows how much I love The Countess Bedelia; I absolutely adore her. She maintains a glittering court; well, as glittering as can be in the dark, cold mountains of Transylchusetts. (Even her pet bats winter here in Miami.) And, although there have been issues between us in the past about stealing young men from my court when she visits, I long ago resigned myself to the fact that there are just too many of them to count; I let her have all she wants.

But my spies in Boston reported in an early morning telegram (coded, of course, and shoved in my sleepy face by the gloved hand of servant) that The Countess had once again defied the Countess Code and was seen dancing--on of all things--a podium. REALLY! Surely it is permitted to take a dance with a fine, young guardsman (or two) and I have even been known to lead The Quadrille for the sake of levity. But, a podium? We are NOT politicians!


I was shaking my head when I realized she had given me a biography of her early, Countess years. And, there it was; dancing comes as second nature to the head of the Court of Bedelia. I grimaced, thinking about how stark, boring, and frugal my early Countess years had been. It was as if I was brought up by Puritans until I finally ran away to New York and found a table to dance on.

So, The Great Southern Court sends a message to Bedelia: "You go girl!" (And you can be SURE that we will never show that video of you doing The Watusi.)