Drizzle

That's how I felt most of the day--gray and drizzly. Not many words out and about when the weather's so rotten, are there?

March 10--French School, Fan given by Maximillian of Habsbourg-Lorraine, Emperor of Mexico, to his wife, Charlotte of Belgium. Max always knew when what he was saying irritated Charlotte. He didn't even have to look in her direction. They would be at a gathering sitting around talking and he would hear the snick-snap of her opening that damned fan. He had given her the fan as a wedding gift. A wedding night gift, actually, because he hoped that the eagerness Charlotte showed him before their vows would grow into flames of passion. They had, for a while, until that fat, oily Jesuit from Santa Fe had insinuated that carnal pleasures, even in marriage, were sinful. One of these days Friar Tomas would find himself on a one-way trip back to his mission with a cask of Max's best wine in the back of the donkey cart. Then Max would enjoy himself breaking every one of those delicate ivory fan ribs before making love to his Charlotte until she pleaded for mercy while encouraging him as she used to. His dark eyes glittered at his wife over the rim of his wine glass. He smiled to see her shiver.

It took all day for a few words to squeeze out but these are okay ones, I think. Hope your day went well.
--Barbara