Flowerpot Cottage is the 5th toadstool from the left in a straight row of toadstools in Lobelia Drive.This cul-de-sac directly opens on to Lobelia Avenue,which stretches for a long way ahead in the distance. On the right side of the cul -de-sac are another 6 toadstools,all slightly bigger than ours on the left.So far,in our 3 years in Lobelia Drive, we have only had contact with the dwellers of 2 of these toadstool homes. Directly opposite our toadstool haven live Mimsey and Jeraboa,the Dagworts,with their two teenage daughters,Serafina and Ariadne. Mimsey and Jeraboa are not of elven origin, both being earth based elementals. Mimsey is regarded in these parts as a white witch,with only good reports of her ministrations spreading through the Dingley Dell Community.She stands tall by magical standards,but carries a little extra weight,particularly below the waist,on her lower limbs. She lacks the sylph like qualities of the elven form,but holds within her shape the sturdy trustworthy limbs of the more worldly woodland folk. She passes quietly up and down the cul-de-sac daily,on her way to the Metropolis to sell and practise her magical spells and potions. Her long face and uneven countenance make her not a beauty in the traditional faery sense,but nor is she a figure to fear as some witches are. A degree of sadness hangs around her,but since I know litle about her past,it is difficult to speculate from whence it comes. She once took in a parcel for us,left by Scamp the Postal Imp. When I called round to collect it at twilight, she smiled demurely in my direction at the door,but the look in her eyes stared so deeply into the roots of my soul,that I shivered all the way back to our toadstool. I would like to know her better, but feel that caution may need to be exercised in becoming too close to such an enigmatic magical. Her partner,Jeraboa, a part time warlock and heating engineer mechanical, is also of the sturdier woodland origin.He looks to have had some military background,judging by his thick red neck,stumpy fingers and aggressive bearing. but he is pleasant enough in conversation,when our paths have crossed by the Four-wheeled Carriage Holder wall, at the end of the cul-de-sac. Thankfully Serafina and Ariadne show more of their mother in their outer countenance ,judging by their lack of red necks and stumpy fingers. They are in higher education academies in the nearby Metropolis. We know little more of the Dagworts apart from their Saturday night penchant for smokey barbecues,all garden glowworms blazing, and the happy sounds of karaoke voices ,singing along to a single lute, behind the fence. Old Twisty Thistledown is the other magical we have encountered on the right side of the cul-de-sac. She is a little old will o' the wisp,who passes daily with her familiar,Dumpy Rex. A little teetery on her stiff elven pins,she always smiles and stops for a chat as she passes our front fence. I bet she was a beauty as a young elven sprite, her inner beauty still shining through,in her eyes and white wispy curls . I fear for her sometimes, when she passes the Primpole garden. Several times she has been jumped at by the "Wildebeests" at the gate,sending her reeling almost into the roadway. She hasn't fallen yet,or had a heart attack, but this clearly cannot be good for her faery blood pressure. She is always very forgiving afterwards, smiling in the wildebeests' direction,but she really could not be blamed if she went home to stick pins in effegies of these hysterical,dangerous and clearly predatorial muts. Since I waved off the Primpoles at dawn this morning,smiling to them out of the front window,while heaving a huge sigh of relief, I feel I should let Old Twisty know that the way is now clear. She can ,for the next few days anyway, go skipping and dancing along the cul-de-sac, unharried.More mystery is accruing next door, in the house of Gumble the gnome. A red mini carriage drew up this morning,and parked outside for a couple of hours. I did not see who came and went from the house,but once again there was a good deal of shuffling ,banging and thumping in the toadstool. Are we about to see some new dwellers ? Was it indeed just Gumble,back again to do a much needed clean up of the house and garden ? Or was it some third party magical about to take squatters rights ? More detective work is clearly called for, but it is difficult to stay rooted to the spot behind the gossamer curtains,waiting for a breakthrough when my busy life calls for considerable commitment elsewhere. Today my pleas have been heard and,despite a few cloudy spells, Dingley Dell is bathing in sunshine. Mandolini, our Head Garden Gnome is sitting on his favourite tree stump beside our pink rhododendron bush ,mopping his weather beaten brow. Had a busy day,Mandolini ? I called as I put out new rich pickings for the birds. He just smiled back, a careworn smile,and leaned further on his spade. I could not see any of the other gnomes obviously
working, so I expect he is having his work cut out,keeping a watch on their antics. Pianolo was up beside the bird cottage, lying on a flagstone, reading a weighty tome on container gardening.Closer inspection though,showed the local Pigeon Racing Supplement concealed in its pages. Verde was beside the summer house ,smelling the sunflowers, and Basso Profundo, well ,he was fast asleep in the geranium hanging basket.Poor Mandolini, these boys are such scamps. However will he make honest ,hardworking gnomes of them all.In the window of our sunroom, The Black,Fat, Furry Cat,is stretched out,catching his full weight of sunbeams. My Wednesday hoovering may yet put a stop to his amiable snoring. In the front patch, the Starlings are renewing their daily fight for food on the beech hedge,while among the terracotta pots,our two garden sylphs, Dulcie Woodnymph and Angelica Botanica,stand resolutely in their white flowing skirts ,arms outstretched,rendering an air of peace and love, to all the visitors to No.5.
Much love and happy puddle skipping to you all ,my friends. From your dear Amarantha Willow, the Rainbow Faery.