Dearest Gentle Reader,

My betrothed and I made pilgrimage to the land of southern Illinois to escape the seemingly endless interlude of the coldest, fourth season of the year. We hoped to have a part in the Dirty South Roubaix.

This author is not for want to become a great Franklin rod, and as of late the weather-prophet informs morrow shall have the highest likelihood of lightning. I shall not unwittingly participate in damaging myself or said velocipede. In light of dire warnings, we set forth to navigate many of the plotted trackway today.

I have been reliably informed that we shall attend concluding ceremonies in the fare town of Alto Pass. If any of the ‘Ton plans completion of said arduous excursion of morrow, we would hope to come upon you to learn of your adventures!

Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown