Denver – Good morning, everybody! I hope you are doing well. Roses are red. Violets are blue. It’s time to say good-bye to shots of the flu. Say “haylo” during summertime visits at the zoo, where right-wing extremists are found to rendezvous – much to the delight of the Chinese and Fox News.

Do – a female deer
Re – a drop of golden sun
Mi – a name I call myself
Fa – a long long way to run
So – a needle pulling thread
La – a note to follow so
Te – a drink with jam and bread

So do la fa mi do re, so do la ti do re do

HaHa!

Lately, there seems to be this new trend involving online tea parties and stuffs, and I figured I’d have a little fun with that. In fact, I am gonna write as Mrs. Couthless, an Englishwoman living in Colorado who is also about to turn 60, and we are going to have a tea party right here right now with her.

.. .. ..

(Oh, Paotie and his double-dots! How embarrassing! The grammatically correct and proper method is to use three dots to indicate a pleasant surprise of a pause, dear Paotie. We shall have a word later, yes?)

Oh! There you are!

Top of the morn’ to you!

Please forgive my rudeness – this is my first time using a laptop. Paotie’s laptop is big and beautiful and feels like a man’s laptop. Strong and powerfully built.

I like that in a man.

(And we all know that boys with big toys have size issues.)

Yes. Quite right.

Tut.Tut.Tut.

This laptop/machine looks like something a hippie would own: it has stickers of snowboarding, skiing, and marhi whawna plastered on all the metal parts, and it constantly and loudly hums and whirs.

And is quite the godless and noisy contraption. I was in the powder room earlier today, and without warning, Paotie’s beastily-noisy laptop punctured one of my dear-old eardrums with sinful music that almost gave me a heart attack.

(It played Lucifer-inspired devil’s music! Oh my! I do believe it was a song about a poor woman wanting, “More! More! More!” Good heavens!)

Anyway, let us discuss important matters for now.

Did you know that Paotie is always giving me the frights? He seems to have a cruel and sadistic sense of humor (fueled perhaps by the size of his laptop? Tut.Tut.Tut.); once, I kindly asked him how he pronounced his name and do you know what he said?

“Coyote, it kinda sounds like the Spanish word, coyote.”

But – and pay careful attention here, ma’dears – I was holding Skinky, my tiny, black Chihuahua in my arms when Paotie also had to tell me, “Coyote means ‘pet-killer’ in Spanish. Better watch out or one will sneak in when you’re not looking, and snatch ol’ Skinky right outta your arms and then … coyote meat.”

Oh, the horror! I could not imagine such a terrible destiny for Skinky!

Good heavens – that Paotie!

I am calmer now after a deep breath. But isn’t that terrible what Paotie did? I did not sleep for three weeks after that and The Lord knows I need my sleep or I get sick and the gout in my front teeth flare up.

The tea that Paotie has been serving me for the last hour has also helped fantabulously. I instructed him to keep my teacup topped proper, and I am proud to inform you that he has. He also told me that iced chais help people “be calm and serene.” Being from England, I only drink black tea and I rarely drink Chinese teas as Paotie does with his iced chais.

Frankly, I must confess to you that I seem to be feeling a rush of energy: my heart is beating faster and my palms are clammy, and I find myself taking rapid breaths – not ordinary events that transpire (unless it involves Mr. Couthless late at night) (actually, it usually does not involve Mr. Couthless – ever).

(Tut.Tut.Tut.)

For some reason, I also feel a tremendous amount of anxiety, suddenly. In fact, I feel quite right paranoid, though Paotie himself seems to be laughing non-stop for an unknown reason.

An hour ago, Paotie gave me some of the most marvelous bits of candy that I have ever tasted this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Actually – and frankly (I just love the word, “frankly” because it reminds me of Old Blue Eyes, and in a very private way, by the way) (Tut.Tut.Tut.) – I think the secret ingredient in the candy was a Spanish word, marhi whawna.

Marhi whawna candy makes people feel good, Paotie always says. Quite right, I did feel marvelous for a few minutes, but I appear to be old and quaint – my heart’s beat has increased since I first sat down and began writing to you.

My hands are shaking now, also. Good heavens! Everything seems so much … different. When I asked him about the “spinning sounds” that seem to be occurring in my head, Paotie laughed and said, “Mrs. Couthless, I am deaf – I do not hear things in your head.”

The boy can be outright cruel!

I seem to recall a story or two about a time when Paotie was in college and visited his lovely mother’s house over the weekend. It was a dark, very early Sunday morning when he frightened his family by maniacally screaming and yelling, “HELP!! I AM AFIRE!! HELP!!”

Good heavens, let me tell you that!

Not a good way to wake up in the dark at 4:32 AM, I suspect. And if it were not for the newspaper that Paotie had wrapped around his arm, everyone in his family would have thought he had magically been set on fire by fiendish elves.

Everybody except Paotie did not laugh. The boy laughed and laughed all that horrible morn’. In fact, I seem recall that Paotie would repeat the same hijink several times to his family, especially whenever his younger brother had friends sleep over.

(Not to forget the time Paotie took the keys to his unsuspecting, younger brother’s very first car and parked it several blocks away late one night. The next morning, the house was awoken to teenaged shrieks of bloody horror, “MY CAR WAS STOLEN!! CALL THE POLICE!! MOOOOM!!” and the dear brother then ran off down the street in a full state of panic.)

Naturally, Paotie had a big laugh with that.

That poor brother of Paotie’s.

Probably what most of you might not know about Paotie is that his laugh is very infectious. Often the occasion in restaurants meant that Paotie would laugh really loudly and other people would begin laughing too. I do believe Paotie has made quite a few friends from those “happy accidents” that he calls them.

Silly boy, that Paotie.

Well, I must be off in a moment. I have typed far too much than I had intended – an effect Paotie seems to have on me every time I see him. We can talk for hours and hours about the most mundane of subjects and yet, we are never bored. It probably helps that he gives me his famous candy and the sugar perks me up (though for the life of me, I cannot understand why I have temporary fits of anxiety).

Perhaps Paotie will allow me to write another entry for his readers (you, poor, suffering souls) because I have thoroughly enjoyed my time writing.

And perhaps I may buy a laptop as Paotie has suggested, though I do believe I will most likely get a smaller, simpler computer. I do not need to be lugging around big laptops like Paotie’s because they are quite too big and heavy for an Englishwoman about to turn 60 in May.

And yes, just between you and I: size does matter to Paotie.

(And we all know why, ma’dears.)

(Tut.Tut.Tut.)

The sun is out and the finches are chirping; today appears to be a lovely day, and I do think I shall return home and attend to my garden. It has been a grand experience writing this entry for Paotie (he suggested I “blog” after I mentioned that I liked to write).

Thank you for having tea with me, Paotie.

Toodle-Ah!

Mrs. Couthless