Hello darling. Your Venus has transited up to the aerie and is ensconced at her desk, clad in no more than écru lace and panties, sipping from a rosé-and-ice-filled glass (this bird's preferred pink sugar water), listening to Women of Note, and finishing Chapter 9, "A Route of Evanescence," of A Summer of Hummingbirds. It is a very hot summer afternoon.

I am embarked on a little lexiconical self-help project, trying to make peace with the word panties. The English language is stuck with it and skirt is simply no substitute. I am determined to love panties. However I sigh. I believe I would love "panties" better if I had a brand spanking new assortment of them, a confectionary box of pretty, lacy, lovely briefs. By the way - in the 35 years that have transited since we first met? I'm done with white cotton.

***
J to Belle, 7 July 2008

... For practical reasons, you didn't take your skirt off...

Belle to J, 8 July 2008

You remember my various items of clothing so well! I'm amazed. I too remember making love while still wearing a skirt and nothing else. That was very erotic. I thought of that as I wrote to you yesterday, but just couldn't bring myself to write panties. So "skirt" it was.

***
Wow. I must have heat-stroke. It's "skirt" that has the erotic connotations. Okay, I could use a new wool skirt for fall then, and a formfitting sweater, and a pendant, and a spritz of Miss Dior. Never mind about panties.

As ever, love and countless kisses, darling -