How are you doing? It may have seemed as though I disappeared off the face of the earth, but as luck would have it I'm still here! I just got back the other day and then got swamped with writing up my reports, going to business meetings, and family matters.

I won't bore you with the details, but the end result is I've moved to London. My parents have some business here in town and have taken up residence, bringing the herd of young Weasleys along with. They're in need of both my help and support, so I joined the crew. Which fell in line nicely with my decision to take up a desk job at the bank. It isn't nearly as exciting as all the travelling around I used to do, but here is where I need to be right now.

I hope everything is going well with you and that I hear from you soon.

Yours,
Bill

London, eh? That's pretty cool. What does your new place look like? Color scheme? (I'm such a girl, I know.)

So... how long will it take before you become acclimatized enough to play tour guide? The Aunts decided I am not well travelled enough and are planning my trip to the British Isles after the Faire Season ends. It is impossible to argue with them, so I guess I'll go. Not that I mind, of course. :-D

I've returned back to my place. It was a fairly short trip home, in comparison. Things mostly got resolved and they didn't need me for anything. Dad fairly threw me out the front door, which I suppose is rather suspicious if I give it any amount of thought. Mayhap I should do some investigating on the issue.

Not this weekend, however. I've got to get packed. I'm playing another faire this weekend and the journey will take me far and wide. As they generally do.

Take care and have a great weekend!
Katrin
--
"What happens to the holes when the Swiss cheese is eaten?" -- Bertolt Brecht

How was the faire? When does the faire season get over? It sounds mightily exclusive to have a whole season of the year just for you performers.

I'm settling in well enough, or at least as well as can be expected. The house we're living in isn't quite what you would call in pristine condition. Quite frankly, it's rather neglected. The man who owns it, who is a friend of the family, only just reopened the place when it became apparent that we'd need somewhere. He's living there as well, along with a few more of my parents' colleagues. My mother has designated herself as the commander in chief when it comes to cleaning the place, and as he can't really go out much he's part of her crew. So are my four youngest siblings and Hermione, one of Ron's friends from school. Luckily, I have a job to go to during the day and don't have the luxury of getting roped into her plans.

I'm not too certain about colour schemes, but as for what the house looks like ...

Ok, even though that house you're living in sounds pretty big, how do so many people manage to fit in comfortably??

Oh, and the season ends generally around mid-September to mid-October, depending on where you live. For me, it's definitely mid-September. When the leaves begin to change around here is when I know it is time for me to head home for the winter. ... Hm... Makes me sound like I migrate or something.

I'm due to have lunch with the Aunts this afternoon, but I don't know if I'll be able to drag myself out of bed. They're a bit concerned about Alistair. Apparently he's been acting strange, disappearing for hours on end. I'm not too sure what the fuss is about. I mean, technically, he is a stray. And it isn't as though he's missing for days. Aunt Sheryl mentioned something about sighting another cat in the area and the debate is raging as to whether it is a male trying to spread his territory, or a female looking for a boyfriend. I think the Aunts need a new hobby.

Which reminds me, I'm supposed to ask you for the recipe to 'a traditional English dessert', preferably a tasty Christmas pudding. Why they want one it is beyond me, but I suspect ...

My dislike for doing paperwork has successfully increased to abhorrence. Or, perhaps, sheer loathing. I now know what happened to all those reports I'd have to do before; I'm the one processing it all. That, in addition to all the extra 'new' stuff, means form upon form. Still, it is nice to be close to my family for more than a week or two between months of absence. And I have a rather unique supervisor now. He is what I would call of few words. He grunts and gestures more than voicing actual sentences. Or even phrases!

No, even living in London we still do not have, oh what did you call it, Internet access? at the house. Mum wouldn't be too keen on having a computer around. She really is not interested in technology. So I head down to an Internet cafe each morning before work instead. It means heading out early, but ...

So I was thinking last night about how Hermione has spent two summers now at the house with your brother and Harry. I can only imagine my father's reaction had I made the request to do such a thing at that age. The very idea that I speak to members of the opposite sex, regardless of circumstances, is still rather questionable even now. Maybe he is a bit more over-protective than the rest, though.

This time I head West for the weekend. Wish me better luck in the weather department than the last time I did so! According to all the reports, we should expect sun, sun, sun. And I've packed the waterproof cloak in hopes that, by being extra prepared, I won't have any problems. Good weather would be a plus for the Faire itself, too, I suppose, as it is brand new and rain all weekend would ...

Yes, the War Against Dirt continues to wage at the house. I would not have thought it was a battle worth fighting to the extent she goes at it, but Mum is determined! And woe betide any of us who dare to oppose her. At least openly.

It would not surprise me in the least to find out Fred and George have been stashing away some of the more interesting finds for extensive examination at a later date. Those two are up to something, not that this should be news to any of us, and I think their plan will fall into motion as soon as they finish school this coming spring. Their dream the last few years has been to open a joke shop of some sort, much to my mother's dismay. But not everyone is cut out for the normal, run of the mill type careers. Still ...

I'm going to my first Highland Games this weekend. That probably sounds so old hat to you, considering. I mean, with all your travels, surely you made it up to one of the real things at some point? Maybe? Anyway, I'm a bit nervous. It's absolutely ridiculous for me to be so; it can't be that far in schematics from a Ren Faire...

I'm not quite sure how I managed to get myself into this completely blind, either. The Faire I usually do this weekend went out of business last year, sadly, so I found myself with an open date. One of the merchants mentioned the Games, and I figured I'd give it a shot. But somehow in the hustle of the year, I never really got around to researching what would be needed of me beyond the contract and other paperwork. How's that for being the organized and put-together performer, eh? I just hope it isn't a disaster that I'll never be able to live down! Thank goodness I've got that stockpile of Scottish folk songs as well, not to mention ...

As much as I'd like to hold with your hopeful sentiments, I can't see a reconciliation coming any time soon. Percy really crossed the line this time and, for all that he is my brother, I remain on my parents' side. Not just out of a sense of familial duty, but out of the sincerest belief that they have the right of things. The tragedy of it, in my opinion, is that Percy has not only been misguided by his employer's beliefs. Rather, he has fallen victim to the belief that one's worth as a person is directly related to his social and, what is worse, economic situation. Had he not held such a thing as truth, this whole situation may never have arisen, regardless of his ambitions.

It breaks Mum's heart that one of her own has so carelessly abandoned the values she and Dad tried to instil in each of us. I have a feeling it may get worse now that the rest of their brood has gone off to school once again. With Charlie still in Romania, I'm the only one left in town, so I think I'll be putting off finding a place of my own one more time. Which is fine; there's plenty of room here, really, and ...

The Aunts laughed at me when I expressed my concerns. They told me it is probably all in my head, and if not then I should take full advantage of the situation. How, exactly, one is supposed to do this is beyond me.

Aunt Jen loved that recipe, by the way. Though she reprimands you for taking so long to get it to me. Sometimes, there is no pleasing those women! For then she reprimanded me for not reminding you more frequently. Which set Aunt Bree off on a tangent that if she wanted it that badly then she should have pestered me about it sooner. And then Aunt Sheryl got into it as well. Aunt Nell just grinned as she opened a bag of marshmallows and started building snowmen with them. Something about practicing for the festive season. They're all nuts. Loveable, but nuts.

This may seem a bit random, but I don't suppose you could explain the whole Prefect thing to me? Is it singular to the way things work at boarding schools over there, or is all of Britain's school system working on this system? Fred and George might not make much of it, but it sounds so fancy to my ears. ...