Dear Maypole et al.,
Sorry. I'm late. Very sorry. Apologies. You see, there were friends here yesterday morning and after we fed them lunch we had to go in to the city to see a friend of JG's who is sick and then go to a combination Thanksgiving/Birthday dinner, chez the ED, oh, and I had to make a cake for the birthday young man in there, a cake on which I spelled Birthday as Birtday, being in a hurry and I did wonder why the word fit onto the cake better than usual, and we got back late and this morning JG needed me to help with yard work and then I had to make a salad because we went for another Thanksgiving dinner chez Sugarlady at noon and I and ate so much that I was not thinking too well this aftenoon, plus I had to vacuum the dead bugs out of the screen porch and so I have only got to this now.
Can I still turn it in? Will that be okay. Oh, you've heard all this before? Yes, right. You would think I would be better at this sort of apology because I have spent my life making them. I never leave enough time. I should have enough time, but I don't organize it well. And three pieces of dessert is not conducive to either creative letter writing or accurate fly vacuuming.
Really sorry.
But I'll probably do it again.
Thanks for putting up with me,
Mary G
ha ha. sounds just like something I need to write on a nearly daily basis, minus the three desserts thing. (that only happens on the GOOD days!)
ReplyDeleteI like to add as much detail and exasperation as possible when writing lateness letters so that the reader will be out of breath by the end of it, and therefore more inclined to identify with my lateness. :)
ReplyDeleteGood MM!
Hah! What a play-- using the theme to excuse your absence. I'm tired just reading all that you accomplished. Fun MM!
ReplyDelete