Dahling! I have missed you so, these past few months – or has it been days? Time loses its grip when one is not paying attention.
You were, of course, in my thoughts while we watched the migrating flocks of panda south of Helsinki, basked in the dulcet perpetual moonlight on the beaches of Antarctica, and scaled the notable glaciers of Okefenokee. (I swear I shall never hike in open-toe Louboutins again!)
And -YES!- you crossed my mind so vividly as I sipped a delicate Chardonnay within the well appointed tea room of the Saint Septimus Stygius Borgia Whoever-that-was Chapel somewhere east of Vatican City last week —or was it February? Did you know that it doesn’t snow much at all in the Mediterranean region in August? I was shocked, I tell you. And here we were all prepared for a lovely ski break in Malta.
And when crossing back across the Bering Strait on the 4pm ferry, watching the wild smoked salmon leap their way to freedom atop the backs of gracefully paddling polar lizards, how could I not think of you, my dearest darling?
I swear I haven’t been able to write a WORD since that dreadful election scandal. I canceled all our magazines and newspapers so we wouldn’t have to read a whit of gossip and backbiting from dear old hometown Beverly Hills California US of A, which of course we miss terribly.
Haversham and I were simply devastated to hear about the utterly ridiculous healthcare situation you have been enduring. Please do get better soon. Anti-socialized medicine is such a bore.
And do stay in touch, dahling! While we’re still making our way around the globe, I’ve made arrangements for a young lad to run missives to and from the port authority offices when (IF) we land. Your letters will surely catch up to me soon.
Much love to you. Miss you so much! Mean it!!