Well, if The Condemned are those who look forward to starting their evening at midnight on a Sunday, then Miami Beach is The Village of the Damned. It did seem like it was pushing the envelope a little, though; Mondays can be so cruel. We all had fun, although it shocked not a few people that Henrietta and I did not drink; both of us were a bit tired, me from the flu and Henrietta from cooking for a hundred or so. Both Mamie and The Baroness had rampaged through the town earlier in the afternoon; peasant villages were still smoldering. I kept getting cables like, "Mrs Fish out of control, again!". What do these law-abiding citizens expect me to do, gallop down there and hog-tie her with her triple strand of pearls?

This is going to be a week of politics; the election is not that far away and we have a lot of work ahead of us with Mayor Bower and the one gay and one lesbian running for commissioner, fortunately for separate seats. I really don't like politics anymore, but it's better than dealing with the White Fly.