With all the celebrations to begin soon, I need to shop for some fribbobs and ribbons and shoes and wig or two. Of course this means a half dozen new dresses for me, a couple of suits for Durmdurm.
[note to self]
And if there are any childish mischieviations to go about Durmdurm and I will be needing some new kiddie frocks too.
My lovely sister is fluttering about the house tossing dresses about the room in a tizzy. A delightfully bouncy dizzy.
(Images of said bouncy tizzy can be bought and purchased later for those who may want the... visual splendor. The more bouncy the more coin you'll need though.)
However, this also means shopping. I don't mind the dress shopping. It is kind of nice being fitted and pampered.
It's the expense. Two of everything. Two of the same dresses, the same shoes, the same unmentionables.
Ah well. There's bouncing to enjoy and profit from. I wonder if I can convince her to do this in less.
Ah, what a day. I was speaking with someone -- can't remember who, mind you --about the latest crop-picking innovation we've come up with, when it occurred to me that in the three years I've taken over the farm I've done more to increase our profits and output than my father did in all the time he owned the place. I'm not one to toot my own horn, but sometimes I feel it's warranted.
Now then, I think I should go into town and see if I can't commission some new finery for me to wear out and about. Have to keep myself looking good, on the off chance I meet the next Duchess of Dumpty.
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