Letters
To your inimitable Lordship,
Apologies, as always, for my deplorable lack of punctuality. Your letter was sitting just below Theirn's and I fear that I've been ignoring them both for weeks now it seems.
Then, too, there were funeral preparations to get underway; I received word recently that my grandfather had finally passed on, and if ever there was a blessing that was less than mixed I think perhaps that might be one of them.
Life continues as usual here, although I fully intend to thoroughly investigate the wine cellar in order to properly, ah. Mourn his passing, I suppose is what I should say. A bottle of wine, music, and a summer evening spent sitting on the porch like a crotchety old man. I'll only have to hope that the neighbors don't decide it's an attempt at being sociable. They're daft, the lot of them. Trying to set me up with a rather hideous shrew of a high-school teacher, actually. The woman's voice is like nails on a chalkboard, terrible terrible thing, no understanding of even the possibility of magic, not a jot of poetry in her soul, and if I'm not mistaken for all of that she's the closest thing to a pure Water affinity of anyone I've met in the area.
Daft neighbors, the lot of them.
I hope that business has been treating you as kindly as it ever does.
Yours, etc.