My dearest - so: tonight's the last evening, countdown about over. I did an astounding amount of cooking & baking today, the most I've ever done in my life outside of Thanksgivings, Christmases, and one or two parties in my life that I've thrown.

Sigh. I love parties. I would love to have thrown more. I'm really not as reclusive as I seem. Or am I? God, I'm comprised of so many different goddesses, or aspects, really - without being schizophrenic, I'm quite sure, no "Seven Faces of Eve," yet at times I feel myself to contain - not multitudes, exactly, but certainly complementary, contradictory aspects. And then a life - mine - is lived, and it turns out the way it's turned out, and I feel - but that's not who I meant to be, not exactly, I didn't mean to be stuck in a tower with a view, tapping pro bono - not even that, for the public good? hardly, simply tapping, unpaid. Now that part I actually don't mind, because I couldn't possibly write what I write, the way I write, if it were with an eye towards the agora. And yet I'm constantly trying to charm you...

So tonight I'm at the brink of a moment of truth, I guess I'll find out sometime tomorrow if I, Belle, Anxious Decoder, decoded correctly - or if I, Belle, self-deluded, dreamed it all up, invented it.

Either way Belle, whether alone or with as I hope (I couldn't possibly have made this all up, could I have?) you, will dine beautifully well, on a variety of different savory pies, and other fortifying and flavorful delicacies (or just great basic stuff, e.g., roast chicken) to be warmed up & savored.

Rubicon. (Nocibur, Rubicon spelled backward.) Am I crossing one tomorrow? Are you? We'll see, we'll see. Yours, Mabel