She asked where he lived.
“Second star to the right,” said Peter, “and then straight on till morning.”
“What a funny address!”
Peter had a sinking feeling. For the first time he felt that perhaps it was a funny address.
“No, it isn’t,” he said.
“I mean,” Wendy said nicely, remembering that she was hostess, “is that what they put on the letters?”
He wished she had not mentioned letters.
“Don’t get any letters,” he said contemptuously.
“But your mother gets letters?”
“Don’t have a mother,” he said. Not only had he no mother, but he had not the slightest desire to have one. He thought them very overrated persons. Wendy, however, felt at once that she was in the presence of a tragedy.
[excerpt from Peter Pan and Wendy by J.M. Barrie]
In case you didn’t know…I am in love with the story of Peter Pan. Always have been. Just ask my mother, of whom I am a fan. [Sticks tongue out at Peter] I also have recently entered the world of blogging and have found it just charming. I have a blog called Elrods Go Disney where I chronicle all of mine and my husband’s Walt Disney World vacations and give some Disney advice to those who seek it. I find it really fun, and semi-cathartic, putting my thoughts down into my laptop-tapping fingertips, so I thought that I would start another blog. This one more for me…and my friends and family that would like to keep up with my day-to-day, week-to-weekly happenings. I am finding that the days, and years really, are just flying by and I would love a way to store up all of the little sweet dailies. I’ve now been married three and a half years and have an eight month old son that is growing faster than the weeds in my flower beds.
So here you have it, my first entry to my Note from Neverland. Peter Pan may have no one to send letters to (and I am with Wendy, that does sound sadly tragic) but I do, and I am looking forward to sending you little love notes and updates from a stay-at-home mommy with a vast and somewhat hidden imagination. I intend to let it run rampant here, so beware of strange findings and try not to judge me too harshly. I am completely capable of hiding them away inside of a drawer and acting perfectly civilized in mixed company. Almost normal, actually.
With love, Malorie