My Dear Protective Sir,
One word: Maisy.
You had me scared of your poor, defenseless, old neighbor lady before I ever got to Australia. Then I caught her watching me: and watching me – always watching me.
Once I went out in the backyard to do something, and poor Maisy made a beeline for me. I had no idea she could get around that quickly. She was fast for an old gal.
She started asking me questions. She wanted to know who I was, what I was doing in your house, how long I was staying, and why did I talk funny? (Those are just a few of the questions she bombarded me with.) I believe I started making up answers to throw her off the scent of a good gossip story. I also wanted so badly to point out that I had on your dressing gown and you needed…
View original post 471 more words