Surprise! A somewhat belated birthday party for our dear jehan_prouvaire...
Yesterday was the anniversary of said young man's birth, and I really should have done this then, but - silly, foolish, neglectful friend that I am - I forgot. My deepest apologies, dear Jehan. After knowing you for nearly two centuries you'd think I'd be able to remember your birthday!
So, to make up for it, I have scrounged up a fair spread. There's good wine, and bad wine, for the point past which the good wine is lost on us, and bread and cheese and butter and pie and of course cake. Ta-dah!
Happy birthday, my good friend, and if no one minds I think I'll say a few words before everyone's too deep in their cups to remember, because if one says something about Jehan it ought to be remembered - even if I find it much less embarrassing when no one can really recall just what I said in my speeches! *winks*
We often call Jehan our sweet poet, because he is. Sweet: pleasant, gratifying, good, straightforward, wholesome, delicately pleasing to the ear, and of course and most importantly, much loved and much loving. We all adore him, we Amis, because he apologizes to us too often, and because he hangs about in the rain, using his umbrella to shield his verses instead of himself, and because he brings us poetry and notes when we are ill, and because he is so in love with the world, and so brave.
Ah, Jehan. I am honored to know you, and I am terribly, terribly glad you were born yesterday, so many years ago. Here's to you, and to the great good that is having your friendship!
There. I'm done. Tuck in everyone, mill about, amuse yourselves, celebrate - for our Jehan is worth celebrating!
Hope I didn't embarrass you too much, Jehan. I apologize if I did. I've a present to make up for it.
So, to make up for it, I have scrounged up a fair spread. There's good wine, and bad wine, for the point past which the good wine is lost on us, and bread and cheese and butter and pie and of course cake. Ta-dah!
Happy birthday, my good friend, and if no one minds I think I'll say a few words before everyone's too deep in their cups to remember, because if one says something about Jehan it ought to be remembered - even if I find it much less embarrassing when no one can really recall just what I said in my speeches! *winks*
We often call Jehan our sweet poet, because he is. Sweet: pleasant, gratifying, good, straightforward, wholesome, delicately pleasing to the ear, and of course and most importantly, much loved and much loving. We all adore him, we Amis, because he apologizes to us too often, and because he hangs about in the rain, using his umbrella to shield his verses instead of himself, and because he brings us poetry and notes when we are ill, and because he is so in love with the world, and so brave.
Ah, Jehan. I am honored to know you, and I am terribly, terribly glad you were born yesterday, so many years ago. Here's to you, and to the great good that is having your friendship!
There. I'm done. Tuck in everyone, mill about, amuse yourselves, celebrate - for our Jehan is worth celebrating!
Hope I didn't embarrass you too much, Jehan. I apologize if I did. I've a present to make up for it.