December 31, 1936

Oh, my darlings, here we are at the end of another year! Can it really be so? What will the new year bring to us? Life is so very uncertain. At least I know that I shall soon depart from this rather silly Portland and return home. Or what I call home; can anyone of my world renown call any one place home? I suppose not, but my dear London is what I think of as home, my little nest.

I hope you all had a lovely, lovely Christmas. Though I suppose if you be Jew or Hindoo or such, you'll not have had a lovely Christmas! Haha! I cannot at all say that mine was entirely pleasant. No, I really cannot. I have not cultivated many friends here. No one to be chummy and cozy with; no one of my level, you understand. And then I was terribly sad that my dear sweet Penny was not with me this year; I missed her dreadfully. I thought of all the lovely Christmases past, when she was a little girl, and nanny would trot her out and she would rip through all her presents like an adorable little demon. But this year...well...I'm not even exactly sure where she is! She was being very silly down in Los Angeles, chasing after film stars and perversely trying to get secondary roles. Which is beyond my comprehension, I must say. I tried like anything to get her safely back to Europe and now I don't know precisely where she is. So, you see, I was not in a very merry mood for celebrating the Christ child and all that.

I went with two of my pansy friends to a lovely home up in the hills for Christmas supper. Our hostess is somebody or other, terribly wealthy and and important. By Portland standards, you understand. The company was dull and the champagne was domestic. But, in my dreary state, I fear I was indiscriminate and drank a wee bit more than perhaps I should. And then I got all weepy. Yes, I did. And then I drank a wee bit more. I seem to remember droning on about how I missed my darling Penny and enumerating the many sorrows of motherhood. Awful, really. I awoke the next morning very sadly hung and my Boxing Day was completely spoilt. Do you know that Americans haven't any idea of Boxing Day? Amazing. They all go back to work or go shopping. I really cannot fathom the coarseness of it.

But this is New Year's Eve, my darlings! A new year and a fresh start for all of us. So forget about your dreary workaday lives. Confetti and a bit of stardust will do the trick! Haha! Do up your hair, put on a lovely frock and go out and enjoy the evening - but sensibly! Learn from my regrettable errors, and make certain that the champagne is imported!

Happy New Year to all you lovely, lovely people!

2 comments:

Penny Prévert said...

Oh Mother, I miss you so too and I am so awfully overcome at what you've said that I'm going to fly home to you this very minute! Take me with you when you go to London. What are the charms of Hollywood when I'm away from my Mummy? I'll take the train up. I'll wire you when arrangements are made.

Madeleine Prévert said...

Oh, darling, I'm so very glad to hear from you! Oh, now you've made your old mummy cry! For joy! You've made me so very happy, my adorable little wastrel. Yes, do come up - immédiatement! The packing is proceeding nicely, and I'll arrange to have some place got for you on the Normandie; there's not room in my suite, of course. But we'll both be going home, and that's all that matters, darling!