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Sunday, 7 December 2014

In which One is being brave...

One should be painting for One's adoring public today, but instead One is reclining on a chaise lounge in the A of the F' s magnificent drawing room being fed oysters and champagne by his own fair hand.
One is being brave, and, obv, looking not dissimilar to a gaunt, but exceptionally beautiful Pre Raphaelite painting.
This afternoon One shall be transported via  sleigh and four white steeds to a Victorian Christmas extravaganza.
Carefully wrapped in One's Beaver, One shall recline like a mysterious Festive wraith, coughing gently with a Brussels lace handkerchief clutched in my tiny hand.
Or, if we can't be arsed, we might stay in and have fish finger sandwiches and a snog.

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