kajean

Just a note, Sir Robert, about this delightful tale. I love classical music, though I have been known to enjoy other musical genre. I recognized Satis House, although it is MISS Havisham, not Mrs. She was a misandrist because she was abandoned (stood-up) at her wedding. As a result she became a recluse in her father's house, Satis House, where she tortured poor Pip and tutored Estella also to be a misandrist. But it appears that Maude in your tale is not of that persuasion, although she is hilariously observant. Well done, so far. Another lovable saga in the Hugillverse. Thank you for sharing your talent. This story is positively Dickensian, especially the characters and your delicious descriptions of them.

Many decades ago when I was still a very young teenager, our family drove over some mountain passes like the one Mac was negotiating. Those roads have long since been widened and paved, but I remember the tensensess in the car while we were inching along. Many many many moons later I rode my motorcycle over some other unpaved and narrow passes. Couldn't see up the vertical cliff on my right. And on my left the trees were so far down they looked like lawn! Incredible. And the scenery; absolutely breath-taking. These days I worry whether the elevator in my senior-living facility will be steady.😄 But those were interesting experiences that allow me to picture Mac's and Devin's adventures. As for the Arkansas River, I've seen the rapids thrashing through the canyons up in the Salida area. Exciting to see, but no way would I want to be on a raft out on that. I've hiked up Mt. Rudolph and found an abandoned mine on its slopes. And our ranch up in the hills was riddled with canyons and side-canyons. I'm thrilled, Bill, that you've placed these stories about Mac and Dev in my neighborhood. They allow me to be young again -- at least in my head. Thanks.

What beautiful, gentle prose! It sings.

There is more than just the missing artifact (U.S. spelling). The original idea was to regain the Nimrud Panther, AND to get revenge on all the old associates AND ALL THEIR FAMILIES no matter how distant or innocent.

I loved the reference to "My Grandfather's Axe". The way I heard it was: "I have my grandfather's axe. The head has been replaced three times, and the handle has been replaced five times. But it's still my grandfather's cherished axe." I think that is the best description of the canal boat art. It keeps being renewed, but it is still the "original" canal boat art. I Love this chapter.

And laundromats take ONLY quarters - at least around here.

You have an awful lot of herrings in this story, Sir Robert. I just can't tell which ones are red.

It's the wrong part of the country, but I keep expecting CID Barnaby from Causton, Midsomer County, to show up for this latest in the Midsomer Murders.

The Shadow knows.

Ah! The Aunt Daphnes! They are legion! I know several people that fit her persona. The less they know about something, the stronger their opinions on it. As someone said (but definitely neither Abraham Lincoln nor Mark Twain), "Better to keep your mouth shut and be considered an idiot than to open your mouth and dispel all doubt." [Very freely - and cynically - paraphrased]

Hope you enjoy it as much as I have over the years. In fact, I think it's about time I read it -- and her other three children's novels -- again.

FHB was an extremely popular novelist in her day, both in England and the U.S. But she is chiefly remembered for her children's novels: Little Lord Fauntleroy, The Little Princess, and The Secret Garden, all of which have been filmed numerous times. I've seen kids, who normally would not pick up a book for any reason whatsoever, get lost in the wonders of The Secret Garden. The original story - not some rewrite or "modernization". The fourth of her children's novels, The Lost Prince, also by far the longest of them, and seemingly forgotten, is a thrilling tale for boys about a London street urchin and his buddies playing soldier imitating the marching troops in parades. Then he is picked to carry a vital message to a man fighting a war in eastern Europe. The story mainly involves his adventures in carrying out his task. I won't go into the surprising denouement. But this book has been abridged, and then the abridgment has been abridged. And then that abridgment has been abridged again. All this more than once! Needless to say, the last abridgment I read was closer to a short story than a several-hundred-page novel, and it was, of necessity, a completely different story. So different, in fact, that a precious mommy some years ago tried to have the book banned since it was promoting war and encouraging her precious little one to become a soldier! Even the abridgment of the abridgment of the abridgment did not have any such message, so she was obviously just trying to stir up trouble and become famous. At the time, I even went back and read the original first novel, and it is only an adventure story with no political or sociological messaging in it. But it's a good story for those who still love children's literature - as I do. I've read all four of Burnett's children's novels numerous times. And my copy of The Lost Prince is a first edition - not valuable, but still rather neat to have a first edition. And - tomorrow, November 27, 2025, is Burnett's 176th birthday. Happy birthday, Frances!

“Con’s wife, Lisa, has been on at me to come out in the summer.” “Better weather.” Cathal grinned. “Usually. At least the rain’s warmer.” Cathal's line still has me chuckling. I know some people with that same sense of humor, and they're some of my favorite people. I'd like to know Cathal in person, educated, classy, talented, erudite, artistic, wryly humorous, and classical. All in one person. What's not to love? I couldn't agree more with all the previous comments. First class job, Sir Robert!

The Stanley Holloway piece is hilarious. And I'm not British.

I was sitting at home one Saturday a few decades ago when my phone rang. It was my "baby" sister who lives over a thousand miles away. "I just got my Master's Degree," she chortled, "and I got mine before you got yours." Happy for her attaining this milestone, I was still more than a little taken aback. "Congratulations," quoth I, "but I was not aware we were in a race." "Well, we're not," saith she, "but I still got mine before you." My little sister, who lives just up the street, was as nonplussed as I over baby sis's competitive attitude. Baby sis is more than a little difficult to deal with, anyway, so we have little to do with her as a general rule. We decided that we would not notify her of any of our accomplishments, academic or otherwise. Eventually, I gained my Ph.D., but we did not tell baby sis. Somehow she found out a year or so ago, and she was NOT pleased. However, all is not lost; she hasn't spoken to us since. Ah! Peace at last! So I can identify with Russ vis-à-vis his relations with Connor. Great beginning to a new story. Thanks for sharing it with us.