Sunday Scribblings - The Last Hour

The dancing was to begin again at eleven. The banquet had taken place after the announcing of the guests and the first set of dances. At nine the meal was announced and everyone was taken by a partner into the banqueting hall. They had not, of course, sat together for the feast, he, naturally was at the top table looking down at the other diners. She was seated between, a large rotund, florid gentleman whose wig was already gently askew and a thin delicate featured man who fastidiously held his lace hankerchief in one hand and every so often moved it towards his forehead, as though to mop his brow, but always stopping before it made contact with his skin.


They probably thought she was too shy to make much conversation, the portly gentlemen was far too busy concentrating on the courses that were served, to say much, and the fragile looking man, between picking at his food, made rather scurrilous comments about the other guests, that she did not really understand, but smiled as though she did. Periodically she would look up towards the top table from underneath her lashes, everytime she caught his eyes on her, and a fine rose flush would spread over her face. She could see the thin man trying to work out who was making her face blush so sweetly.

The fine boned man, led her out after the banquet and asked the first dance of her and she nodded her agreement. As the last note sounded, and her partner bowed towards her, she turned and he was there again asking for the honour of the next dance. She told him charmingly that there would be talk as he had danced with her many times in the first part of the evening. He told he not to worry, there was talk anyways, as she was a beautiful stranger. She waved her fan in front of her flushed face.



He took her hand and suggested they could take the air for a short while on the balcony, if she was feeling a trifle warm. They moved towards a set of the giant double glass doors, one servant sprung to open them and another produced a rich blue velvet cloak to put round her shoulders to protect her from the chill air. They stood looking out over the gardens, it was a crisp frosty night, the lawns stretched far ahead, broken only by formal walks bounded by topiary trees. The full moon shone down, stars twinkled in the sky and the rime glittered like a carpet of jewels on the grass. The only sounds in the night were a distant hoot of an owl and nearer the lonely cry of a peacock. To her this was heaven.

He pulled her towards her and she rested in his arms, he told her she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he must see her again after the celebrations. He asked if she were staying at the palace. She managed to shake her head, no, he said, no matter he would seek her out, a lady with looks like hers must be known throughout country. He swooped his head down and kissed her. Then he told her, she was everything he had ever looked for. She shuddered, whether from cold or emotion she wasn't sure. Solicitiously, he said they should go inside again and a dance was just the thing to warm them. He brushed her lips with his and led her back inside handing the cloak back to the servant.

They took to the floor, she was aware of the whisperings, that surrounded them, questions were being asked of her she could see. He noticed her agitation and made her laugh her beautiful tinkly laugh by pointing out to her the two rather overdressed flamboyant ladies who were literally bursting out of their dresses, and told her how they had tried to attract his attention all evening in the hope of a dance, but he had only eyes for this beautiful stranger in his arms now. She relaxed and another dance began, they held each other closer and closer, he whispered words about the future into her ear. She was blissful, she must truly be in heaven.




Suddenly everything seemed to happen at once, he saw a court official coming from his father's side, looking very annoyed and anxious, he had obviously not been dancing with enough of the ladies present. The palace clock struck the first chime of midnight, she stiffened in his arms, gasped, pushed herself free and ran across the dance floor her glass slippers making a tinkling tapping noise against the tiles of the dance floor..........

That was my version of the last hour of the ball that Cinderella attended, a Sunday Scribbling to remind us that Christmas is coming and fairy tales are to be read out aloud in candlelit rooms to people of all ages who love a good tale.

Today has been my 100th posting, and to quote the Grateful Dead What a long strange trip it's been! I started to see if I could, and to see if I could keep up the momentum of blogging and if I could find enough to say. So how do I feel after 100? Totally exhilarated. I can say this has totally changed my life, not that I didn't have a life before, but where I live is rural and in posting on my blog I have managed to find like minded people around the world. I have made good blogging world friends and have begun to do so muchmore in reality.



I never thought I would have the guts to do Sunday Scribblings, and there is nothing I love better than working one out when time allows. My writing which I have never really, apart from Uni essays, put down, although I have had a vivid imagination since I was a child, has come on by leaps and bounds. I am amazed at myself. I have totally got my art mojo back, and am now constantly creating. Creating enough to start an along side site, Daisy Lupin Designs, which will be properly operational come the new year. I love putting story circles and games together for people to participate in and I warn you now, a new game for sometime in the new year is bubbling furiously in my head and will be blossoming forth shortly.

I have found people, who have encouraged me, have commiserated with me in sad times, such as the death of my cat, Pixie, who have let me rant over England's treatment of the aged, especially my Mother and people who have let me ramble on with my daisyisms as I call them. I am having a fantastic time and look forward to my next hundred postings.

HAPPY HUNDREDTH POSTING

The wind is howling down the chimney, the rain is battering against the windows, the heating pipes pop and clank and I am snug and warm inside preparing things for Christmas, yes it's another busy day today, only one craft project that I need to do before Christmas, that's not to say I might not think of some more. Most Christmas produce baked and stored. Chrsitmas presents bought, but not wrapped yet, that's a special ceremony with decorations up, candles, wine and Christmas music to wrap by. The next task is the BIG ONE total clean room by room and then Christmas decorations room by room, probably take about a week altogether, but a fun task.

Don’t forget to join in Daisy Lupin's
Christmas Story or Memory Posting
Post a Christmas memory, story, even a ghost story
Or poem you would like to share,
More than one if you wish ,
Anytime between 17th and 24th December
Just let me know it is your contribution
I will transfer them to a temporary site
There they will remain for everyone to enjoy
Until the end of January.
Come on lets have a Giant Christmas Story Circle