(no subject)
As the time for me to fly from the proverbial next grows nearer and nearer, I find myself growing rather nostalgic of my days in the Burrow. However, I have come to the conclusion that this is ultimately an unnecessary sojourn down memory lane. If this community should stand as any proof regarding my familial status, then I would be forced to say that it is, indeed, an accurate one. A memory that occurred to me--or, I would suppose, a series of memories--was the birthday of Mother and Father. Most often the case was that William and Charles would purchase a collective gift for each parent; Frederick and George, of course, have always done so, and Ronald and Virginia as well. Often my siblings left me the obvious seventh child, though not by chronological order, with alacrity. Virginia has proved herself the kinder of my siblings continuously; she attempted to make herself an anodyne during such occurrences as these by assuring me that the result would still be the same. However, if there is one thing that I pride myself on, it is my intelligence.
I daresay I should not get so personal here in this journal, but then, I do realise that Ronald and Virginia will not, in fact, read this. I fear that they only read my words when seeking personal enrichment. While I do hope that my siblings have gathered some lessons in life from me, it is times like this one that lure me in to the thrall of self-doubt. At times, being incisive is unfortunate.
In further saturnine news, my search for a flat continues to come up empty-handed. I have discovered one interesting prospect, albeit a "fixer-upper", which Miss Clearwater informs me is something I should not invest in. Unfortunately, I am beginning to suspect that this dreary residence may have to serve its purpose. I am not insuperable. If I am meant to reside in a dwelling that is imperfect, surely I will be able to make the most of it, with good use of my wits.
Ah, but it is late now. I shall retire for the evening. Minister Fudge has informed me that tomorrow will be a particularly busy today, and I confess I am quite excited.
I daresay I should not get so personal here in this journal, but then, I do realise that Ronald and Virginia will not, in fact, read this. I fear that they only read my words when seeking personal enrichment. While I do hope that my siblings have gathered some lessons in life from me, it is times like this one that lure me in to the thrall of self-doubt. At times, being incisive is unfortunate.
In further saturnine news, my search for a flat continues to come up empty-handed. I have discovered one interesting prospect, albeit a "fixer-upper", which Miss Clearwater informs me is something I should not invest in. Unfortunately, I am beginning to suspect that this dreary residence may have to serve its purpose. I am not insuperable. If I am meant to reside in a dwelling that is imperfect, surely I will be able to make the most of it, with good use of my wits.
Ah, but it is late now. I shall retire for the evening. Minister Fudge has informed me that tomorrow will be a particularly busy today, and I confess I am quite excited.