November 3, 2016
Well, I do declare those fine Sunshine Rotary folks, from Hickory way, sure know how to throw a highflautin’ soirée. My, my, we sure felt knee deep in high cotton rubbing elbows with uptown folk finer than frog’s hair. T’was certainly a sight for sore eyes to observe remarkable costumes created special for the evening’s festivities.
Darlin’, I myself spent weeks sewing lace and pearls on ball gowns for Miss Gina and myself to wear. Soliciting two upstanding southern gentlemen to escort us to the annual Halloween Ball, shut my mouth, you should have seen those handsome cowboys dressed sharp as tacks in their Sunday-go-t-meetin’ best. In all my born days I don’t believe I’ll ever witness such outstanding southern pride again.
Incidentally, like two peas in a pod, Gina and I wore similar, but decidedly different dresses and felt as cute as two speckled pups. She was an angelic vision in white satin, meanwhile, I felt like a ray of sunshine in shimmering gold. Of course, all our accessories were matching pairs, down to our lace-up ivory boots. After all, we are twins from different fathers…twice removed…on daddy’s side…or maybe daddy’s side. Please understand our hesitation to spread any rumors so let’s not mention this unconfirmed, yet however slight, indiscretion again.
Therefore back to my narrative. We were plum tickled to death to meet Mini Pearl and her Hee Haw sidekick upon arrival; reminding me in two shakes of a lamb’s tail that I’d absentmindedly removed the tag dangling from my elaborate sun hat. Butter my buns and call me a biscuit, I’ll set that to rights straight away. Thus, making hay while the sun shines we were ushered to a right smart table near refined refreshments. Nevertheless, a pleasant place for people-watching also. Do tell if I’m not mistaken, I believe Howard Stern graced us by his presence along with his delightfully devilish accomplice. Shhhh….dare I reveal, even a proper gentleman is prone to salivate ever so slightly at the sight of Jessica Rabbit sashaying past; escorted by her handsome husband Roger, of course. However, my companion’s eyes were promptly diverted concerning my considerable bonnet, lest he inadvertently be knocked plum off his chair! Oh dear, that wouldn’t do a’tall.
Meanwhile, I’d be remiss not to mention the spread of mouth watering vittles tastier than a plate of cold tater salad prepared exclusively for discriminating palates. Lining up to partake of the varied and delectable flavors were folks of all shapes and sizes. Every one, cute as a bug’s ear!
Now, recollecting the evening’s concerns to the best of my capabilities I do recall Anthony and Cleopatra, busier than two bees in a bonnet, dismissed their demanding schedule to charm us with such love-struck desires. Why, for each other, of course! Speaking of royalty, I can assure you heads remained affixed as the Queen of Hearts entered in majestic fashion. The King, following hastily after, was attired head to toe as nobly as she. Was quite the berries, if you ask me.
Well shut my mouth, if Happy Guy wasn’t happier than a piglet in a mud puddle! Smiling brighter than his festive gilded smiley he was. In stark contrast, how utterly cunning…daring to dress rather…normal during a masquerade. Wily, Normal Guy, very wily. Furthermore, role playing flourished. She was as he, as he was as she. Captivating, I assure you.
Sigh, finding myself lacking my usual complement of notions I shudder to think I couldn’t offer Mr. Cleaver something to alleviate the massive headache he certainly was suffering. The poor dear.
T’is hard to note all who attended such a prominent occasion although we briefly spoke to friends dressed charmingly as cat burglars. In addition, were strikingly realistic Indians festooned with face paint and feathers. Pardon my lapse but Alfalfa and Darla made quite an enchanting pair in checks and freckles. Oh dear, far, far too many to mention, all I dare say is…hope to see you next year! Dickens, it’s as easy as sliding off a greasy log backwards, you know.
Can you imagine…being bonnet knocked off your chair?