Dear St. Casserole,
Last Saturday, I went to Mr. Cruthird's Cut n' Curl for a new perm.
His new girl, Fern, put the wrong solution on the rods and I look like trash. She kept saying that I needed a new look which I do not. You can tell from my picture that my usual perm is just fine.
I told Beulah Lynch where you are. She said, "DON'T TELL ME that niece of yours is out-of-town again!" She gets such a charge out of you! She worries that Mr. C. and that little one of yours won't know who you are when you get back home.
I know you are enjoying being on the Big Church grounds, singing with your preacher friends, eating food you didn't cook and acting like you belong up there.
Don't forget where you are from and what you are about. When your Mama passed, I promised to keep my hand on your shoulder so you'd have a wise woman to watch over you. My dear, it's been a pleasure and I'm proud of you. Now, go home.
You've got plenty to handle in your own part of the woods without skipping off to see your pals and learn new songs. You can learn plenty just by being at home and keeping your eyes open. I saw the pile of books in your study and on your bedside table when I dropped by to give Mr. C. the rest of that chocolate pound cake we had at the Ladies' meeting.
I've got to run. I've got a chicken salad to make for the Smith's. Her sister-in-law's brother is about dead over at the hospital. We are all worried sick.
P.S. One of your friends wrote to ask if I'd get my own blog. Maybe in the Fall, I'm too busy now.