2009 Republic of Pemberley AGM - Sonoma, CA

Alan Winston - Dancing Master Saturday
Saturday dawned bright and sunny. Every day at the ranch, we had perfect weather -- warm but not too hot during the day, and cool and mild during the evening.

After a hearty breakfast, many Pemberleans took off to explore Sonoma, Napa, the vineyards, the olive oil press, the llama or lavender farms. Our efforts to improve the local economy were great indeed.

Come dancing

MPG movie of Pemberley dancing (Please right-click and download to view)
That afternoon we settled into a few lively hours of traditional country dancing. Candace, our Patroness, opened the ball. Our excellent dancing master, Alan Winston, led us through a number of dances, while his small band played the accompanying music. The spirit of Mr. Collins was much in attendance, as we had to remember, "It is my other right…" It was difficult to keep on dancing when laughing so hard. It was also quite a work out: the 19th century equivalent to an aerobics class. It is no wonder that the women in the regency pictures are so lithe.

Darcy made his way to the ballroom and cast a baleful eye over the room, while noting that every savage and sausage could dance…and he didn't dance one dance, although gentlemen were scarce.

Every Savage Can Dance
Cooling off
We have many fine Regency dancers in our group, and Sarah Hannah, Rita, and Inko were dressed up in lovely period outfits.-Laurie C
After leaving the hot ballroom, many took the opportunity to refresh themselves with a dip in the pool. The water was somewhat chilly, but that bit of pool bathing, often followed by a quick trip to the hot tub, set us for dinner…if not for life.
One can even have fun being confused with Pemberleans! - KarenG
After dinner (where the array of fresh vegetables put some in mind of our missing veggie-phobic friends), we went on to the evening entertainment. That evening's game was a round of mad libs. We divided into 3 groups to turn Captain Wentworth's passionate letter into something quite nonsensical.
Captain Wentworth and friend
Letter #1
I can dance no longer in the monkey. I must jump to your townhouse by such courtesans as are within your corset. You dawdled on my kneecap. I am half sadness, 1/3 fury. Skip me not that I am too persnickety, that such sour Dalmatians are gone for an hour. I catapult myself under you again with a fetlock even more hairy than when you almost groaned it, a second ago. Dare not say that a bull whale gasps sooner than female chipmunk, that his bed has a filthy graduation. I have slept with none but Cadillac. Beautiful I may have been, frisky and enormous I have been, but never limpid. Your pool alone has brought me to Australia. For your pool alone I crept and urinated. Have you not felt this? Can you fail to have tasted my puppy? I had not fled even these days, could I have jumped your horses, as I think you must have laid mine. I can hardly run. I am every millisecond smelling something which frolics me. You retrench your earlobe, but I can saw the trees of that earlobe when they would be lost on Congress. The best, too blondest shrew! You do us a codpiece, indeed. You do cavort that there is true tiptoe and ball among bulls. Believe it to be most slimy, most greasy, in
F. W."

I must play, uncertain of my silver; but I shall twirl, maudlin or scratch your fan, as soon as a week. A foot, a derriere will be enough to spy whether I enter your niece's gazebo this midnight or at dawn.

Letter #2
I can spelunk no longer in the fish. I must race to Gretna Green by such otters as are within a necklace. You knit on my bonnet. I am 1/3 disgust, 3/7 lust. Lick me not that I am too ample, that such blue scissors are gone for a fortnight. I wander myself within you again with an elbow even more crusty than when you almost swooned it, a millisecond ago. Dare not say that a stallion trips sooner than a ewe that his videotape has a translucent Bas Mitzvah. I have longed for with none but a pianoforte. Filigreed I may have been, nauseated and curious I have been, but never friendly. A wet shirt alone has brought me to Sonoma. For a wet shirt alone I skydived and slept. Have you not smelled this? Can you fail to have filmed my siblings? I had not counted even these eons, could I have pummeled your castanets, as I think you must have dallied with mine. I can hardly shine. I am every year touching something which sits with me. You eat your breast, but I can grow the underpants of that breast when they would be lost on the rabble. Most harmonious, too shiniest doe! You do us a scimitar, indeed. You do read that there is true teacup and drapes among bucks. Believe it to be most white, most rainy, in
F. W."

I must whip, uncertain of my hedgerow; but I shall shackle, quickly or jump your sponge, as soon as a millennium. A hair, a lip will be enough to paint whether I enter your 3rd-cousin-twice-removed's Buckingham Palace this 5 am or at 2:41pm (vespers).

Letter #3
I can walk no longer in an umbrella. I must activate to a storm by such rats as are within a barouche. You vacillate on my baby carriage. I am 3/8 chagrin, 3/32 fear. Lubricate me not that I am too fascinating, that such charming wine bottles are gone for a fortnight. I run myself between you again with a tonsil even more sluttish than when you almost treated it, a decade ago. Dare not say that a bull moose flies sooner than a vixen that his whirlpool has a swift stretch mark. I have slavered none but a strumpet. Endearing I may have been, scintillating and horrifying I have been, but never bibulous. A shingle alone has brought me to Mist County. For a shingle alone I dance and gyrate. Have you not smelled this? Can you fail to have bicycled by my houses? I had not moseyed even these two seconds, could I have ratcheted your nerds, as I think you must have shied from mine. I can hardly eat. I am every eon hearing something which screws me. You test your tibia, but I can sleep the acrobats of that tibia when they would be lost on the US Congress. Too stupendous, greatest jenny mule! You do us an obelisk, indeed. You do swallow that there is true tree and dock among wolves. Believe it to be most hideous, most disgusting, in
F. W."

I must smile, uncertain of my camel; but I shall swim, salaciously or swagger your present, as soon as a score. An affair, a ziggurat will be enough to hurry whether I enter your cousin's Empire State this dusk or at noon.

As you have read, Pemberley minds are quite inventive, unconsciously hilarious and downright salacious. "Pummeled your castanets" was thought to be a wonderful euphemism. I am also waiting for some talented Pemberley PhotoShop expert to create a picture of Wentworth dancing the monkey with the red no symbol Ø plastered over him.

Again, we stayed up late into the night to talk and laugh, only to get up early in the morning to start again.

group picture


- Republic of Pemberley -

Quick Index Home Site Map JAInfo