Dearest Ballet School Saviour,

I do indeed remember how we met. I even remember what I was wearing at the time I read your Fucking Umbrella post. I shall treasure the ensuing emails that followed our first tentative greetings and that lead up to our very first in-the-flesh meeting in Dijon. The day, nearly three years ago, I saw your sweet smile for the very first time and we kissed hello, both of unsure of whether to go for two kisses, French style (you), three kisses, Swiss style or what the hell- four kisses, Parisian style, that day will remain etched in my noggin as a day to be remembered and celebrated for ever and ever, amen. Also, it was the first time I ever tasted asparagus and I haven't looked back!

Eurk! I hate to think of how busy you will be between now and the day of the Great Ballet School Sale. Will they have any tutu in my size that I could put a bid on? I always wanted a ballet tutu. Or a brownie uniform. Or a majorettes uniform. But alas!, I had such a depraved childhood and my mother would never let me do these things. I still think that I could have been a prima ballerina, or at least national finalist in baton twirling but now we'll never know, will we?

I am home for the afternoon after a very busy morning of walking, shopping and surfing the internet. The rest of the day stretches ahead of me like a big, long, stretchy thing. I do hope I can keep you entertained in some way. And you me. How empty my life would be without you..... Sigh.....

With nearly 3 year love and quisses!

MM