August 5, 2016

Goodbye Lie Diaries-Aunt Noreen VS Mrs. Ickles

Fernandina on Amelia Island, Florida 
Late 1800s   
Amelia Island's Velvet Undertow is part of The Victorian Goodbye Lie Series
Aunt Noreen writes:

Dear Readers of Jane Marie's stories,
This is your favorite and very well-known Aunt Noreen, once again coming to you by the magic of what Jane Marie Malcolm calls electronics.  Today, I thought I might mention a little something about my dearest acquaintance, Mrs. Ickles.  You have occasionally seen her name in Jane Marie's Goodbye Lie trilogy, although not nearly as often as you have mine. We both live in Fernandina, the seaside city on Amelia Island and are very proud Fernandiners (pronounced Fern-an-deen-rs). Mrs. Ickles and I participate in many of the same activities, including the Orchid Society and St. Michael's Linger-Longer small prayer group, where we study scripture.

In the interest of getting to know the personalities of the people in the books better, I thought it would be useful to tell you something about Mrs. Ickles.  I'm writing this now, before she makes her own entry in these Diaries and distorts matters. So, there we were, in small group.  This time it was in Mrs. Ickles' home. We had each finished a serving of her somewhat soggy lemon pound cake and melted lemon ice cream. Mrs. Ickles isn't known for her baking or cooking, as am I. It was her turn to recite the required memorized scripture aloud.  She was unable!  She could only recall one line out of three!  Shame, I say.  Being her friend, I thought it best to point out why she had become so unconcerned with regard to her Bible verses.  "If you didn't spend so many hours setting such a beautiful table, you would have time to memorize your verses." I thought this was grand advice, given in a kindly manner.  Complimenting her table removed any sting she might have felt at my observation of her lack of effort on doing what she should.  I expected praise from the others gathered. To my utter surprise, no one said anything.  In fact, they all rose, thanked Mrs. Ickles for being a lovely hostess and left, rudely leaving me behind to help clean up the tea cups and plates. Mrs. Ickles was quiet, too, I'm sure contemplating how she could remedy her short comings.  She is blessed to have someone like me, who cares enough to instruct her as to what is right and proper.