So begins many a bedtime story, and the main characters are always the same...........
The five laughing girls, full to the brim with the beauty of life, and over-flowing in random, often naughty, ways..........
Johannah was the southern belle, the beautiful blond, the master of manners. We nick-named her Rose, because she was one. When Avonlea asked if she could name her baby sister Rose, I agreed without hesitation, because the name was already beloved.
But back to the castle in England.........
Johannah was probably the least naughty of us girls just because she hadn't much practice. We'd be knee deep in oh, raiding the pantry, for instance, and the second she heard a sound she was off. Wild hair flying, legs pumping, etc. We'd smother our laughter and call her back, "Johannah, no one's coming! Come back!" It came to be known as the "Johannah bolt" and her conscience never did get calloused.
So 15 long years later....she brings her husband and baby girl and visits us. We drink tea and talk the years into moments, God-like, and laugh.
I say "bummer" and she says "brutal".
She's always diplomatic, "Oh anything's fine for dinner. Don't you feel like chicken? Maybe with pasta and parmesan?"
Her darling girl fits right in with my crowd. They form a new core.
I gave her daughter her first tutu and teacup.
Johannah's Rose's Godmother.
And the castle magic continues through the generations of story lovers.
And as we walked up the lavender lined path to my home I felt a rush of wind behind me. Turning I saw Johannah, hair flying, legs pumping, etc. I looked questions and she replied, "Bees!"
Ahhh, she still bolts my friends.
Years, between friends, are a matter of minutes.