toadstooltales

Pendragon and I woke up this morning,fully expecting the change over of our clocks to have automatically altered the course of the weather. Where were the sunbeams which ought to have been dancing on our bedroom window sill ? Where was the tantallising dawn chorus to greet the new season ? The day begun should have been altogether more pleasant, and full of promise for the summer days to follow . The sky is still full of rain and I can see a vast array of birds in the trees opposite the toadstool,sitting huddled in their wet misery, beaks and feathers full of disappointment. We have cancelled the desk building for today as there are other jobs which need to be accomplished first. I need to clear some space in the BLUE ROOM and take the present poor substitute for a working surface out of the room. This may take some time as the present desk is storing various bits and pieces of office equipment which need to be put into careful storage. Pendragon,I have to say, is looking relieved. He has curled up on our leathery settee with a good book,a cup of acorn coffee, and MY CROSSWORD. For months Pendragon has been rather insulting about the level of my Crossword ability, and my choice of puzzle, but for the last three weeks, has pounced on it , half apologising for doing so, while eagerly filling in boxes with supposed correct answers. To be fair ,he does often hit upon the correct solutions, but from time to time he will complete the boxes with random words, and insist his solution is the only one possible. Despite it being glaringly obvious that this now prevents any other box being correct,he adamantly soldiers on,shoving in letters,trying to make other answers work,before throwing the broadsheet up in the air in pique and disgust.
"There must be a mistake somewhere" he will say. "Maybe we should let the editor know." One glance at the crossword proves that not only are half the answers impossible, but it is equally impossible to sort it out. A mass of black inky corrections meets the eye. I have thought about concealing that part of the paper which contains the crossword,but that rather goes against our policy of always being open and honest with each other. Instead I just let out a yell of indignation,that once again my chances of winning this week's crossword competition are totally scuppered, and would he please not write any old thing in ,just to complete it. He returns a look of pique that I should have the gall to lay the blame at his little green pointy feet, and says "well,if you don't want my help then".and the air goes a little cold for twenty minutes before we end up laughing and giggling about it. I cannot be angry with Pendragon for too long. He is,to coin a human phrase, unbelievably cute. I love him dearly. His smile could launch a thousand coracles,his wit as sharp as a sandpiper's beak, his love as true as the straightest arrow. So today he reads and has coffee,while I clean our toadstool toilet,and wash our fairy garments,ready for the new week ahead. All in all it seems a fair distribution of labour,as he works so hard during the week,at the Royal Dingley Dell Hospital. Pendragon,mystic, philosopher,and healer of souls, has helped many Dingley Dell faery folk,with his words,and strategies ,to ease their troubled minds and clear their anxieties.He is a good listener,with consummate skill to put folk at their ease,encouraging them to talk about their depressions,and feelings of helplessness. Even faery folk can feel down .Pendragon has achieved much in his role at the hospital,now having reached the dizzy heights of Senior Consultant Healer of Souls. He has written many papers, and books on topical faery ills,and has also become a media personality on Dingley Dell TV and Radio. I often turn the radio to Dingley Dell Digital,to hear his dulcet transatlantic voice charm listeners on a variety of queries. I am very proud of all his achievements. He currently is writing his first novel, a psychological thriller he tells me,involving the CIA,FBI and possibly the Dingley Dell Redoubtables. At one point he told me that one of the characters might be based on me, his dear Amarantha. However ,lately,he has refuted that,saying he is saving my character, for his second novel.I fear there may be some reasons for this. Either, he is concerned that my foibles displayed over 400 pages might be too much for me(or anyone else) to bear,or he wants to break it to me gently that he has based the villain, a particularly nasty specimen,on me. How could a vegetarian, gnome loving, bird feeding,moon dancing, villain strike fear in the heart of any reader ? I remain bamboozled.The rest of the world seems strangely quiet today. I have not observed much movement in the surrounding toadstools. I saw Weedy Primpole from no. 6 , arriving home in his big maroon two-wheeler.He opened the back,allowing the gold and black wildebeests to clamber out,and head up the path.I cannot fathom whether he actually did take them for a country walk, or just put them in the back and drove round the block for a while. No doubt Severity Primpole will give them all the third degree as to where and why they all went.Further up the avenue in the third toadstool from the left,live Nobbie Shilpit and his family. I rarely see them during the week,but cannot seem to avoid them at some point during the weekend. Nobby has a wife,rarely seen in the open air, and two growing sons- Oggie and Gwyllum Shilpit.Nobby the goblin displays two distinctly different personalities to the world at large. Sometimes he appears to be friendly,offering to help his neighbours and acquaintances in any way possible,no job too small,almost to the point of interference. He always knows the best way to carry out a task,will always point out where you are going to come a cropper if you don't do things his way. The effect being that you so resent the interference, that you immediately make a pact with yourself to go on regardless in your own sweet way,rather than allow Nobby to take a hand in things.At other times,Nobby seems to display a much darker side. The toadstool is often shrouded in darkness,allowing no one to determine whether the Shilpits are at home.Business visitors to No. 3 are bemused to find that no one ever answers the door, although the upstairs blinds will be seen to twitch.Conversations with Nobby suggest that he is a man with an eye for the main chance,and that chance may not always be strictly legal. His elder son,Gwyllum, is a sweet boy. polite and willing,with an ever sunny smile. His younger son, Oggie,however ,seems to have inherited the darker Shilpit nature, and is known in the area as Oggie the Hood.Procuring sweets from the local provisions store is one of his ploys,and throwing stones at other people's two wheeled carriages has been noted to be one of the others. A less than sunny figure around the avenue,we await Oggie's further development with more than a little trepidation.For the third week running Gumble the gnome from no.4 has remained in absentia, and the present encumbents of Toadstools 7 and 8 have not been seen THIS YEAR. Is there something dark and mysterious happening in the avenue ? Or have they all won the Dingley Dell lottery and failed to let us know ? Yes, Dingley Dell,our sweet and precious haven,may have its own dark and hidden secrets to reveal. More,after a little further investigation. Love to all my friends and much deliberating, From Amarantha, the Rainbow Faery. -

Pendragon is the most romantic of creatures. My faery birthing day is coming up soon, and he is already planning some surprises and gifts. Dinner in the beautiful dark eating house at the top of the hill has already been booked. It carries some mystery around it ,as to outsiders it looks like a gigantic many floored building,black and purple, into which you cannot see. Only those who dress up in their woodland finery are allowed to enter. I am sure Pendragon is going to have to part with lots of faery gold to get us two seats in the restaurant. He has been asking me a great many leading questions of late. Do I like red ? Do I prefer single stoned necklets, or multi stoned gems ? Have I got freshwater pearls in my collection ? Do I need new night dresses of the gossamer variety ? Where and when would I like my next holiday ? Do I have everything I need for my new gigabyte box ? It is my next birthing day on Saturday to come. I have to admit to being just a little excited, as I was as a little sprite . Oh, fancy paper, hand-crafted cards, faery cakes and lemonade jelly, the wonder of it all. Outside our 5th toadstool today,the rain is flowing,soaking everything in sight .All the flowerheads in the garden are greedily stretching upwards to grasp as much as they can. Our front garden has lots of flowers opening even so early in the year - pansies,pink and red geraniums rebudding, the blue clematis is starting to trail across the lawn, and last year's golden nasturtium seeds are germinating. I love a rainy day. It is the bringer of such bounty to the nature around us. Everything benefits,everything flourishes,everything looks green and fresh. We faeries love this time of year, and as a rainbow faery, I can particularly relate to the colourful aftermath of a shower or two. Although Pendragon and I have much to do in our little green plot, as you would expect,there is already much life to be found there. We do have lots of visiting birds; from robins to sparrows, great tits to rooks , pigeons to the odd massive grey gull, bold enough to fly down to the front lawn in search of yesterday's leftovers. We even have a visiting hedgehog(only at nightime, steered on by the light in our porchway) who waddles across the path for rich pickings. Grey squirrels scale the fence in our back garden to steal peanuts or spare bread chunks from the bird table. We are a safe haven,for man or beast. The wild barkings of the Primpoles' wildebeests occasionally will scare off a party of marauding birds, but they always return. The need for daily nourishment of young and old ,is a far higher priority than avoiding the noise nuisance next door.
There are other friends in the garden,too. As you may already suspect, the fifth toadstool from the left is also home to a family of gnomes. You can find them in various parts of the garden, popping out as you wander round. Head of the family is Mandolini, from the mountains of Italy, who works tirelessly with his spade and axe ,to keep the undergrowth in check. Everytime I see him he is wiping the sweat from his brow, while taking a breather,leaning on the handle of his axe. He always has a happy smile,and looks pleased to see the owners of his garden. Gnomes like to be busy ,and our garden offers plenty of scope for an enthusiastic digger. He rolls his eyes in a beckoning way, you can almost hear a tiny whispered sigh as he wearily stops his labours to take in the air of the day. Mandolini ,by the very nature of his demeanour , issues an invitation to the passer-by,to stop awhile and talk. I have to admit, that I quite often share my thoughts with him ,in the afternoon of the day. Isn't it beautiful,out here,Mandolini ? Do you think it's going to rain,Mandolini ? Maybe we should move that rhododendron,Mandolini ? How about here, Mandolini? Sometimes I have even shared weightier matters with him, hoping that his peaceful presence will help to defuse my worries and calm my fears. He doesn't say much. Just rolls his eyes, and sighs his whispered sigh, and somehow I know that I need to trust myself ,for things will surely be alright. Every garden should have a Mandolini.His jacket is blue,with rolled up sleeves; a brown belt with a copper buckle holds in his tiny,tubby belly.Too many acorns,Mandolini ? His baggy green breeches are tied at the ankles of his stout little legs. His broad dwarven feet are protected by big brown boots made from the leathery skins of chestnuts each and every Autumn. Three snow white curls and two large elven ears peep out from under his bright red pointed hat. His long white tidy beard covers his jolly chin, and the top half of his blue jacket. He is often to be found sitting on the left over stump of a rowan tree,cut down some ten years ago,but still there as a reminder of earlier dwellers of the fifth toadstool from the left. In summer time the stump will be surrounded by carefully placed border plants,pretty with flowers,giving Mandolini a perfect spot from which to survey the mischief of his fellow gnome dwellers and get a touch of the sun. There are three other gnomes besides Mandolini - Pianolo, Basso Profundo, and Verde. More of them later,as we have a whole host of other dwellers besides. For now,the sun is shining again, The sky is clearing ,with some blue squeezing through the powder puff of grey. Time to potter by the shed,to find some old pots for new plants,and perhaps share a cup of roasted acorn coffee (decaffeinated of course) with Pendragon. Saturday and Sunday are always days to be carefree, to put aside temporary cares, celebrate the life that you have and daydream about the days to come. Tomorrow we build the desk for the new study. Pendragon is already looking slightly queezy about this. We have built various pieces of furniture together before with a successful outcome, but tempers usually become frayed halfway through, the air is frequently all shades of blue, and Pendragon the mildest of faery folk, will be heard to declare " never again", or " go on,then, do it yourself, if you think you can do better". That is- between knocking the hammer down on his fingers instead of the wood, or being unable to find the piece he knows he desperately needs, or joining two pieces of wood only to have them give way again.We form a cartoon picture as we try to make sense of the instructions from our home assembly kit. I play foreman,to Pendragon's labourer, so sparks will surely fly before our new desk takes shape, to stand proudly in that area of the house we call the BLUE ROOM. All our previous toadstools have had a BLUE ROOM. The room where we do everything else that we don't do in the rest of the house. That should give some flight to wild imaginings .Small but perfectly formed, it should ultimately be the most interesting room in the toadstool, and to be truthful, it is already well on its way to being a cavern of delight. I have just spotted two porky starlings sitting in the tree at the bottom of our back garden. They seem to be fixed upon whatever Pendragon is currently meddling with ,by the shed. Hopefully it is the insect life he has uncovered ,as he clears away the deadwood of winter, and not Pendragon himself ,as they seek out their next tasty meal. I may have to assume a rescue position, as I definitely want that desk built tomorrow. Love and sweet summer days to you all my friends. Remember to put your clocks forward one whole hour tonight, as the faery summer begins. From Amarantha, the Rainbow Faery.

Tuesday has been rather busy in the 5th toadstool from the left. I decided to do more unpacking of the boxes sent back to me from Dingley Dell Academy. Last week I made great headway,getting rid of 10 of the boxes,leaving another 14 still to go.Today I meandered over everything,completely unable to throw anything out,and not being very sure at all where any of it is going to be stored. Most of it was material from all the Academy Shows which I directed in my 27 years at Dingley Dell. Scripts,songs,photographs,notes.All of them might be useful sometime,somewhere, but maybe they won't. I think I just had so much fun at these times in my life that I have a very sentimental attachment to all these old bits of paper. They represent the investment I made in the children, the other members of Staff, and my own personal time. Each performance was unique,and came somewhere from the heart of me. I have stopped rummaging now,meaning to continue tomorrw. Some space may allow me to make a decision about the "Stuff".I hope Pendragon can find it in his heart and in his patience to endure it sitting in the kitchen till I have deliberated on its future. He is a very patient man,my Pendragon. He has been most supportive over the past 5 months since I decided that the time had come for me to leave Dingley Dell Academy. I had been so happy there for most of my career,but sadly the last three years had been less than productive for me. I was Depute Head in charge of all the little sprites (3-8), but with a big influence over the rest of the school too.It would have been hard not to be influential after 27 years. The present children were sons and daughters,even grandchildren of the little elves I taught in my first few years . I felt well known,well thought of, well remembered. Rather a hallowed position in which to be sitting. I loved my school and it would not be too much to say they loved me. For 26 of the 27 years I worked with the same Headteacher. She was quite a phenomenon,seriously committed to the job and with loads of talent. A consummate leader,with an uncommonly strong sense of what the job demanded,and to some degree, ruthless in achieving what the job demanded. She taught me everything I know about management,and she taught me well. We lived through some incredible crises together,and I flourished in my role as catalyst between her ,the Staff, the parents, the children. Dingley Dell Academy rose to great heights during this time. She decided to leave three years ago,said she just couldn't do anymore, and was desperate to be doing something else. Nothing was the same after she went. I even missed the days when she was impossible to please. A new Headteacher was appointed. Bozzo the Clown was everything his name would suppose. Disorganised, lacking any vision for my dear Dingley Dell, lacking the necessary strong stuff to take the dear old place forward. He really had no idea how to do the job and it was starting to show. To make matters worse, the Depute in charge of the older pixies left (she could see the writing on the wall and wanted pastures new),and I felt really alone with the stress of it all. The bad luck continued with the appointment of Serendipiity Weasel, another clutterbuck,as the Upper Junior Depute- made in the same mould as Bozzo - and my days at the Academy became unbearable.Neither of them could handle discipline, or parents, or indeed anything which was of any importance. Two heads on the Management Team so firmly in the clouds is a continuing recipe for disaster. By the summer Solstice, 6 members of Staff had left and by October the same year, I was just about on my knees,exhausted and disheartened trying to maintain whatever standards I could. I knew then that I couldn't struggle on,trying to influence either of them. I knew then that I didn't want to. Some people and things you cannot change. It was time to go ,to let some other redoubtable take up the challenge. Five months on , my former colleagues tell me little has changed. Unhappiness reigns, with Staff quietly working out how they can honourably leave the sinking ship. Bozzo and Serendipity charge on. clueless to the unrest and the need to reflect on their own lack of vision. I have at last found a measure of peace,knowing that I did do my best, and that those who mattered to me at Dingley Dell Academy ,know that.
My days there were days well lived. It is now time for the Rainbow Faery to make a new life for herself,and rediscover old joys in new haunts.The dreams are many, the talents not inconsiderable,and tomorrow is definitely another fine day. Love and much reminiscing to you my friends, from the Rainbow Faery.

The Primpoles live next door in the 6th toadstool from the left. Severity Primpole is a rather stout figure with a round unsmiling face. The clothes she wears fail to distinguish any feminine assets she may have.Trousers and gilet,gilet and trousers seem to be her style. She is mistress of her little domain next door,sharing it with her husband,Weedy Primpole,and two massive familiars we choose to call the "Wildebeests". Weedy is equally unmuscular, with a red face and glasses, and a penchant for the "Daily Scandal". It has been difficult to get to know the denizens of no.6 ,because they seem to be so reluctant to forge any friendship.They live behind the beech hedge,occasionally venturing out for a journey in their two wheeled carriage,sometimes taking the "wildebeests " for a walk and once a week to wheel out the rubbish cart. Other family members seem to visit bytimes - we have worked out that they have two sons - but in the main they seem to be a very solitary pair.They have a small garden to the front and to the rear of their toadstool.The back has been clothed in cement ,with a small shed added,little glowworms draped round the fence, and a small patriotic flag flying from the roof of the shed. A tidy spot where they can occasionally be seen sitting out on their wooden seats,taking the air.Not that we can see them too well.The fence between our toadstool and theirs is very high. The slats of wood do offer a slight viewpoint through which to see the daily comings and goings but I would not want to stay there too long watching events, lest the Primpoles or the wildebeests sensed my presence. My careful snoopings have picked up that they seldom seem to converse with each other when they sit outside.Perhaps they are so content with each other's company that they feel no need to exchange thoughts; perhaps they are practising the simple art of telepathy and the pathways in the garden are particularly conducive ; or perhaps they have lived together so long in their unsmiling state that words are a stage too far. Perish the thought, my money is on the telepathy theory. Weedy Primpole does not seem to smile much either. He will sometimes venture a brave hello to me, when I pass the gate,or am feeding the birds. but hello is as far as we get. He seems afraid to say more. Severity has also ventured the very rare hello,but then makes it clear that she will say no more.I have been subjected to a great many "heads turned away,just as I reply",leaving my cheery greetings hanging in the cold air. Maybe they think I can operate on the telepathy principle too. They seem to love their wildebeests more than people. The large black beast seems very unhappy to be caged behind the beech hedge,and I fear he will ultimately break free,eating everything in sight as he charges up the cul-de-sac.He has a restless nature,barking frequently if you pass the gate,sometimes barking wildly,even when no one is there. The tubby gold beast just lumbers around, but is equally disturbed by the presence of oncoming interlopers,and is quick to respond to the barking of the other beast. Leaving the house to find both of them at the gate,is a terrifying expereience from which it has taken me days to recover. I now cross the road on the way to my two wheeled carriage holder, rather than risk possible mastication. I once witnessed Gumble,the next door gnome, have an altercation with Severity Primpole on the subject of the two scary wildebeests jumping out at him. The air was blue,as they verbally scratched and clawed at each other. I stood on the sidelines,watering my perennial pansies,secretly smiling at Gumble's courage to say what I have never dared.Suffice it to say,they have not spoken since. The beasts continue their assault upon the passing community,but Severity and Weedy seem to keep themselves more and more behind the hedge.The one thing we seem to have in common with them is our daily feeding of the Birds.Yet I fear that Severity sees this a more os an act of competition and suspicion than a mutual sharing of hobbies.I often emerge into the front garden with peanuts and fat balls in hand,a lilting tune on my lips,to feed the local dunnocks and robins who pass our way.We have encouraged a great many species to the garden and delight in watching their daily quest for grub. I suspect Severity had total domain of the wild bird community before our arrival.Now the birds come to us first to forage for delicacies,leaving the Primpole peanut bags hanging for days.Even their small wooden bird nesting box in the back garden is empty. I rather suspect that even the bird population prefers not to be barked at, or chased,while it breakfasts of a morning, and likes to be be in a garden where everyone smiles.I wonder how Weedy feels about the "wildebeests". Pendragon,whose instincts are impeccable in these matters,detects an air of melancholy about Weedy.Just like the wildebeests,he secretly would like to be free. Love to my friends and a "Sunday Smile " from the Rainbow Faery.

Another beautiful Friday,although the weather here is rather blustery and cold in the garden of the fifth toadstool from the left.The bluest of blue skies over Dingley Dell is enhancing a mood that Springtime is on its way. We faeries do love Springtime,with its promise of re-birth and renewal. Everything in the garden is on the verge of blossoming,just waiting for the right moment to unfold upon an unsuspecting world. I have spent the morning hoovering the rooms in our toadstool home.Hoovering always gives me a chance to plan the day's undertakings and the rest of my life. No small activity then. I am still recovering from our delightful night out in the Metropolis. My spaghettis Fantasia was a terrific gastronomic experience as always,and Pendragon was in good form.We met at twilight outside the restaurant,with a kiss and a smile.The evening promised well. However, the performance by The Scottish Contemporary Dance faeries was somewhat disappointing. The glass fronted theatre was packed to see them and we had good seats.Pendragon always acquires good seats as we are rather vertically challenged,and hate dodging about behind other pixie heads to see the action.The first piece was interesting and very well performed.with eye catching costumes and some fine moves. But sadly, that was it as far as expertise went.The two further pieces were dull,and rather chaotic,and smacked of self indulgent choreography.I treated Pendragon to an hour long critique as we journeyed home to his Intown Apartment. My mood was soothed with a cup of rosehip tea and some sweet music on our return.We went to bed,cuddling and giggling into the night.
In the morning Pendragon treated me to a healthy breakfast,and a shopping spree. Much window shopping later we emerged having bought a brand new light fitting for our living room in the Toadstool. A beautiful contemporary piece which will glow and dim to our command.Our present green and red glowworm is not in tune with our beige and white modern fittings.Pendragon has offered to give it a good home in his Metropolis apartment.So humane,Pendragon will always find an answer to suit everyone.
He often phones me during the day to see how my day is going. Just hearing his soft, transatlantic pixie tones gives a lift to the day. He leads a life dedicated to making me happy,and hopefully I do the same for him. We have met in the middle of our lives rather than in the first fairy flush, so do not want to waste time not enjoying the relationship. He is fun, hardworking, intelligent, and rather special.
He has taken time to know and understand me. He is the first Faery Man with whom I have ever felt I can be myself.We faery folk can be very fickle with our relationships, so it is important indeed when someone so different comes along. We love our weekends together, as we still have much to do improving our toadstool. This weekend will see us perusing the plants in our garden,spreading magic dust on the soil,and casting a few of our favourite spells to help them grow.We are building a new beechwood desk for the Toadstool study - Pendragon is a whizz with hammer and nails - and fresh gossamer curtains will be hung at the kitchen window. Happy days in our little faery home. Still no sign of Gumble the gnome,despite his lawn reaching new heights behind the fence.Pendragon is just itching to go in there with his newly honed scythe.On the other side the Primpoles have taken to sitting stiffly and silently on the bench in their front garden,with coats,hats and scarves on.It is not the most picturesque spot in the world,so I think it is just an easy way to avoid walking their two "wildebeests". More of them tomorrow. Their story must be told. A good weekend to you all,my friends, and Happy Easter egg hunting. From the Rainbow Faery.

I got up very early this morning because I was expecting a delivery. Today was the day when my worldly possessions from my former post as Depute Head of Dingley Dell Academy,were to arrive back home. I had put them into storage with the Dingley Dell Storage Imps, until I could could find space and time to sort them out or throw them out. 25 boxes. All there is to visibly show for 27 years at Dingley Dell Academy -a veritable 1 box per year - almost. They duly arrived,accompanied by a most charming and cheerful imp,who smiled throughout as he strove to find yet another space to place things in our modest toadstool.I've opened 10 of them, cast away some obvious rubbish and had a very pleasant afternoon fishing through the rest,reminiscing about past glories,adventures,mishaps and erstwhile colleagues and friends.There's lots more to do but it will be fun and a great way to put old demons and an abandoned career to rest. it is so reassuring to know that although the last few years were both tiring and stressful, I did accomplish a lot, and there were many happy moments. The bin outside,however,is overflowing with cardboard boxes and bursting plastic bags. Pendragon will be pleased. This is the night Dingley Dell folks put their bins out,and I can just see him puffing and panting his way from hedge to gate.Better out than in,as I am sure he will be hoping that all the rest of my souvenirs follow suit.
I need a quiet evening now,as I am planning a vegetable extravaganza for Pendragon's supper,and I need to pack a fairy overnight bag for tomorrow night. Pendragon and I are off to the theatre to see some Dingley Dell Dancers.We are staying in Pendragon's basement town toadstool overnight and going shopping in the nearby Metropolis on Wednesday.
Dancing is one of my main delights.The show this evening will feature The Scottish Contemporary Dance Faeries and I am thrilled to be seeing them dance live.I did a lot of dancing and acting in my younger days,working semi professionally as a dance/acting faery in the evenings.It was a wonderfully exciting time in my life,with many stories to tell, and many exciting performers met.The show we are going to see tonight is called "Defined".I will tell you more about it on my return. Good shows find me "dancing in my dreams, poor ones find me bending Pendragon's ear well into the midnight hours. Since he is working tomorrow,I will try not to lose him too many hours of well required rest. Pendragon is taking me to our favourite Metropolis' restaurant,Je T"aime, for some serious munching before our theatre date. Mediterranean noshing is so wonderful before a show.We love our evenings out as we get a serious chance to stare into each other's eyes across the red checked tablecloth,and giggle virtuously over the salad and bruschetta. Pendragon and I are due to marry in the Faery Ring next year,so we have much to talk over and plans to hatch. More of these later. Love and spaghetti to all,my friends, from the Rainbow Faery.

When Pendragon and I first arrived here in our cul-de-sac in Dingley Dell we came willing and ready to put down fresh roots,and be open and welcoming to our new neighbours. We had both had warm relationships with our previous neighbours,so felt that a ready smile and some warm conversation would be all it would take to open up the channels of friendship. Time has proved us to be completely wrong,and we were singularly unprepared for the cold winds of rejection sailing in our direction across the respective fences of the fourth and sixth toadstools. In Toadstool number four ,Gumble the gnome was leading a very solitary life.The only opportunity to have any communion at all has been on our respective doorsteps at the finish of work times, or early in the morning,by the garage wall,as we nearly collided on our way out to work .I was invariably sleepy eyed,and not really ready for complex interactions,and he was too busy strapping on his safety helmet for his two wheeled multi-geared chariot, to give forth on any substantial subject. Two minutes worth of merry quips passed between us,and off we went about our business of the day.And yet there were a few occasions when his guard slipped and tales of his past life unfolded.Sometimes quite jaw dropping details,as I put the key in the door.So what did I learn. He worked in some financial management in the city,he often went away for a few days at a time , he never stayed in one place too long,he had a daughter,and an erstwhile wife somewhere in the south of the land,he would never marry again, and he was making lots of money. Hardly anyone ever seemed to come and visit him,except his 13 year old sprite,who visited on two occasions,and appeared somewhat troubled.Constantly popping into the garden for a quick fag,and looking bored seemed to be her visible demeanour.never stayed long.He once said to me that he was concerned about her because she had been taken into short term care,and then dropped in casually that it was her mother's responsibility anyway,and he couldn't do anything to help.I never really knew whether he meant it or not. But I always thought of him in a colder light after that. Single, solitary and lonely is how he appeared,but also incapable of altering that. Pendragon once called in to borrow some tools and said the house had so little furniture in it ,that you would never have known anyone lived there at all. Gumble left three weeks ago.We would never have known if I had not bumped into him as he carried out the last of his belongings to a waiting four-wheeled chariot. Hi,he said, Well that's me .I'm off. Oh, I said, Anywhere nice. I"ve bought a house in the next hamlet,he said. I'm off there now. Then quite conspiratorially he added in a low whisper. But I"ll be back. Sometime. I don't know when. But I expect I will come back.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask as I saw him go off in his four-wheeled chariot.He was moving,he was not going to sell, he would be back. What ? Where/ When? Why ? He left in the same cloak of mystery with which he had lived next door.A solitary gnome. A lonely gnome. A quite content to be that way gnome. We have called the 4th Toadstool on the left -Lost and Lonely Cottage. It looks empty and somewhat sad. Like Gumble the Gnome.Pendragon ,who is usually a warm and empathic pixie of great intuition ,has been heard to mumble over his hot hazelnut lately, Don't waste time worrying about him ,my petal.He certainly won't be sparing any thought for us.And is he coming back to cut his grass ?
Trust Pendragon. Always the practical,always the fine finger on the pulse of a situation.
To happier times my friends and the denizens of No. 6, next time. Love and much hugging from the Rainbow Faery.

It's Sunday. A very lazy day in the 5th toadstool from the left,especially for my beau,Pendragon. He works very hard during the week,and wants Sunday to be a day when he mainly lies down,surrounded by a sea of Sunday newsrags and gallons of roasted coffee.For me,the Rainbow Faery, it is a sea of washing and a heap of breakfast dishes,which greets the day.We have been upgrading our little toadstool for some time now. Various works have been done. New windows, new eco friendly heating,little room added on to the back where Pendragon and I catch the sunbeams and eat our daily provisions.Outside this we have just added a new seating area,which will be edged by the new garden we are planning.It's not a large space ,just big enough to be managed with joy by Pendragon and I. It will be full of flowers,in keeping with our Toadstool name, Flowerpot Cottage.We love building up our toadstool home and are rather proud of it. It is lovely to live here,comfortable both outside and in.The only signs of any flurry of activity from Pendragon on a Sunday is when he goes outside to look over our stately holdings,review the health of the lawn,cart off the intruding weeds,and lop something off the nasty beech hedge which forms the barrier between our garden and the neighbours in Toadstool no.6. To be honest, he has lopped off rather a lot of the nasty beech hedge in recent months,and I'm not sure how the two incumbents of Toadstool 6 are feeling about that, but suffice it to say, they don't have too much to say when we are putting our refuse bins out on Monday nights. That may be because of the large amount of beech clippings sticking out of our bin,and them having 20/20 vision.It is a really revolting hedge,of course.When we arrived here,three summers ago, it was forging its way across our garden at great speed. We felt we were living in a shoebox rather than a toadstool. It had to go ,or at the very least be persuaded to grow in the other direction.Pendragon did try other alternatives,- spells in the early morning after the first fall of dew, hypnotism, potions and chanting,even giving it a good sound talking to. With no success in sight,he was then seen charging out the front door,on a regular basis, with his hacksaw and sharp pink secateurs.The beech leaves fell. The beech twigs fell.Whole beech branches bit the dust.Meanwhile I watched anxiously from the sidelines ,occasionally glancing upwards towards the neighbouring toadstool window, where two pairs of black eyes twitched behind the curtains. Pendragon remains unmoved by thoughts of any possible upset to them.He is firmly resolved to ensure that Flowerpot Cottage remains unspoiled by sticky leaves,smelly foliage and the rampant march of the hedge's greedy progress. Regrettably this means we won't be invited to barbacues, birthday parties,breakfast brunches or firework displays anytime soon at No.6 .
Love and friendship to all, from the Rainbow Faery

Pendragon and I have just returned from our wonderful two week holiday in the Sunny Isles.We had a fantastic time,seeing the sights,smelling the breeze and letting the cares of faery life drift away on the tide.The sea was beautiful sometimes,formidable the next. We ventured out in a white yacht to visit a nearby cove. Dolphins kissed the sides of the boat,jumping and diving in time with the movement of the yacht.We always feel in tune with the sea,in fact,water of any kind.All our digitally mastered photographs find us looking windswept but smiling. Messing about on boats is second nature to Pendragon. He once was a lieutenant commander in the Faery Submarine Corps.Whenever we board a faery craft,be it ferry or liner,he always assumes an air of command.It is reassuring to know that if the ship went down under some other pixie's command, Pendragon could always take the helm and rescue me in the wink of a barnacle's bottom. He exudes an air of calm at the best of times,and when I am feeling at my faery wit's end ,that can be quite a blessing.The sun shone down on us for two fun filled weeks,as we explored the Sunny Isles.We learned a lot about the history of the people,and how their lives are lived.We ate their food,danced their dances, andd smiled their smiles. We will return, as we like the pace of their lifestyle. It is always so restful.Pendragon and I were blissfully happy,we so enjoy our holidays.We climbed hills and mountains in our faery chariot, lay out on our sunbeds reading our chosen novels,and took the cable car to the highest point of the Isles. We strolled round art galleries,saw beautiful gardens, with many fine toadstools built into the hills. Our room in the Holiday Toadstool was magnificently decorated in mahogany and deep red.with a balcony facing out onto the sea.We shall miss the quiet life as life returns to normal here in the fifth toadstool from the left in Dingley Dell. I am trying to decide what my new career will be now that my days as a teacher in Dingley Dell Academy are at an end. I am torn between setting up a small business sewing and selling clothes for little faery folk, writing faery tales for the same wee folk, painting pictures of faery landscapes and faery life, or maybe doing something else I haven't yet considered. A big decision - whatever it will be must carry some excitement. Every day should be a Camel ride .So life is strange at the moment. I am now in charge of my own time. Some days are full and buzzing, while on others I seem to finish with little done but much thinking achieved.It is the first time in a long time that I have felt so free, and that can be slightly unnerving.Pendragon is the soul of patience at these times.
There is no sign of anyone new coming to the toadstool next door. The strange gnome who was living there has flown to the next town ,to do what - we never found out. He warrants a discussion, so more of him tomorrow. Tonight I need to make Pendragon's favourite hazelnut cup, with a peppermint tisane for myself, before it is light's out, and a snuggle down in the large acorn bed. Sweet dreams to all,from the Rainbow Faery.