I apologize, but I must confess myself more than a little confused by your most recent missive. Unless I read it incorrectly, you said, (and I quote) "I did manage to finish another [dress] that is pink with brown spots and little floppy ears." Am I to believe, then, that you have sewn on additional pair of ears on your clothing?
I must admit that I am shocked, not to mention confused. It seems to me that there has been some matter of miscommunication. An explanatory paragraph on your part would be most beneficial to the conversation.
There is another matter which I am inclined to address... 'tis that of you and your father making jam of your instruments! How absolutely horrendous! I do not know what on God's good earth would induce you to do such a thing. I thought you always enjoyed playing the violin! What if it was a Stradivarius, made in Europe hundreds of years ago? Are not most instruments handed down through generations? William and Nancy's both belonged to my great-great-grandfather Edward. I cannot imagine the trouble that would ensue if one of them were to smash it into jelly.
Although I am still bewildered by your last letter, I shall try and compose myself now. You asked what I do for fun, and I shall answer you. I particularly enjoy helping my mother run a polished and flawless household, sewing new gowns, and selling goods at my father's store. I needn't ask what YOU do for amusement.
It would undoubtedly be so shocking as to keep my nerves aflutter for days. Kirsten, I think I know what must be done. You must take up more household responsibilities to remedy your bizarre sense of humor!