The climacteric, hormone imbalances and a trip to one's shrink.

So dear readers I have returned to public life following a long medically supervised recuperation in the sanatorium.

Freud, ('the shrink', as Ana and Della refer to him) insisted that following the trauma of my husband's death and the falling from grace of the Baron, I was indeed showing signs of fatigue.... and even....though he muttered this quite under his grumbling breath, 'some or other madness'.

The sanatorium and a team of mental health experts have seen to the Countess health crisis but she is still plagued by the climacteric.

picture credit

The kindness of the staff in the sanatorium cannot be over sung for they indeed attended to every Countess whim with grace. Even my tantrums have been calmed by their attentions, and possibly also by the narcotics that Freud insists settle the brain, evening out its extremes during times of bleakness. Seemingly I have been cursed by a condition that affects both brain and body that is rather common in ladies of my years. This condition is aggravated by alcoholic beverages and other inappropriate substances. Readers, I have been warned even against cake lest it aggravates my condition. The burning of the heart, both metaphorically and literally, so I am advised, is less due to the stresses of the Palace brood and more linked to this condition of chronic hormone displacement.

I am thus to avoid vodka from the Russian states and Marlboro from the least until the Countess' metabolics realign themselves and the 'climacteric' has passed. (I will attempt to avoid cake, though this is not realistic).

I am promised to behave in expected Countess fashion (as the Lady Pembleton-Fraser insists) and I am not to be entertained in shops designed for the proletariat as the temptation near the chocolate counter proves too much. Alas, under the influence of the climacteric, one was sometimes away with goods without paying. I apologise wholeheartedly to the gentleman owners from overseas who stay open till dawn each day. It was the involuntary mix of adrenalin, unusual hormones, and vodka.

Now, there is other news of a most exciting nature. Your Countess is to Hackney to a new Palace. I will publish the interiors once the decorators are done, but let me assure you that the upgrade is most marked.

The L'il Literati is ecstatic at the turn of events that bring her mother close to her and her beau (though the gentleman remains reticent in his proposal of marriage, despite news of his increase in salary. No doubt being resident but a stone's throw from the Palace of 'Sin' will allow me a greater ability to bring maternal pressure to bear!)

And so dear readers I am in slight disarray as my staff pack the contents of the Brighton Palace. Dear Ana, who is much saddened by my leaving, has recommended that the contents of the five walk-in wardrobes be emptied and sold in order to pay removal costs which are simply exorbitant. Thus I have employed a marketing assistant and several seamstresses and am quite in the throws of excitement at our new eBay shop!

What fun we are having with this clearing and altering and selling.

I am to supper......God bless you all and long live Hackney!

from the Countess Diaries

First published 4/24/11 5:53 PM

© 2020 Sarnia de la Mare


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