"...Please no Fan Fare.....du Barry"

So ended my sister's cable this morning announcing the fact that she and The Countess Bedelia would be arriving in Miami on the 28th. With accustomed nerve, she requested something that she could not help but capitlize in her sentence; the only thing missing was italics. With little fan fare, the two of them are no doubt already packing trunks and retrieving jewels from their vaults. Stepped-up security measures will immediately be put in place and the village children will all get a bath the night before they arrive with no fan fare. Oddly, they always choose to visit during momentus occassions like the Superbowl or Halloween; that week they will just happen to be in attendance at Court for Winter Party, probably the most attended gay event of the year. (They will have just missed the Food and Wine festival, which is good for me because I want to sample as much as possible with little fan fare.)

Fortunately, Leopoldo has been busily adding to my wardrobe and focusing on jeweled outfits. If there's going to be no "Fan Fare" with this visit, I may as well sparkle a little more than usual. (God knows that the greatest fan fare of all, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, will no doubt be lurking behing every bush and buffet table that week.) "...Please no Fan Fare..." She's hitting the bottle again.