QUESTING!

SLAM! (The door blows open. the door blows shut)

Hey Monas! That was Moraiah again. I guess she has become my constant traveling companion. She is great at opening and closing doors as well as being a real hoot in the middle of the night in moldy Castles when she starts practicing mOANing.

Has anyone seen my suitcase? I promise you, when I got back from my quest after the Philosopher’s Stone I put that suitcase RIGHT under a pile of spells, which was RIGHT under a stack of alchemist symbols, which was RIGHT under . . . well a bunch of toads. I don’t know, things in my lair have a tendency to tend toward . . . well you know. If someone hadn’t found it necessary to grow mushrooms under all the furniture . . . There IS quite a nice Faery Ring coming right under my printer, pretty soon we should have a lot of the Fair Folk footing it around right on . . . my . . . thesaurus! Who put THAT there?

My Dear Monas! I am off questing again! No, I didn’t lose the Philosopher’s Stone, I know exactly where THAT is, so I needn’t seek it again. This time, I am going on a Quest seeking my roots. (Ebony Wilder, don’t you dare say anything about root-hairs or the vegetable bin!)

I am returning to the land of my foremother’s, the mythical, magical Land of the Midnight Sun. I am going to sail up the fjords, visit the home of my favorite composer Edvard Grieg, the homeland of Hans Christian Andersen and the Isle of Bornholm from whence came all the Benson’s, Nelson’s, Jenson’s and especially Peterson’s who came before me. Here was Hamlet sequestered in his darkness, I go seeking his ghost. Here the bright gods and goddesses of the Nordic Pantheon rode the back of the Northwind. I am called by the shushing, shadowed spirit of the snow.

I am collecting snail-mail addresses. When I was in England last year I actually, for the first time in my life, sent postcards while I was still on vacation. It was a lot of fun and I intend to do it again. If you would like to receive such a strange piece of paper from the forgotten Postperson, please email me and give me your address. Some I already have, others I would welcome. winniecross@charter.net.

Meanwhile, I hope you will all take care that things not get TOO monkish around here while I am gone. A little wine and cheese party in the choir loft, a late night pillow fight in the halls . . . all good things. WHO belongs to that Beatles CD? Bring it out! Oreo cat should be on patrol, though you may not see him. How about a field trip through the catacombs? WHERE is Anita Marie? Someone keep an eye on that girl, she was dissolving the last time I saw her . . . or didn’t see her . .

Abbess, it looks like you will have some peace and quiet for a couple of weeks. Don’t worry, darling, I’LL BE BAACK!

COSTELLO
Searching for Skald