toadstooltales

Since we returned from our weekend trip, I have been suffering from a bit of elven poorliness. Granitonda had been somewhat cold over our two day stay,and our trip a little tiring,but on Monday my temperature seemed to be high,my zest for life strangely low, and most of my waking hours seemingly found me performing with alarming frequency in the lavatorium. Flying germs ? Possibly. An upset stomach ? Possibly. A war torn bladder ? Very definitely.
Yesterday I rested for the greater part of the day ,only wrapping up to make my appointment with the Faery Physio. He could see that I was unwell, so kept the interview short,and bade me make a visit to the Alchemist,Dr. Scroat, as soon as an appointment was possible. I returned to my bed, sleeping right through until Pendragon's return in the evening.
He found me in the kitchen,struggling to organise myself and the evening dinner. He questioned me for a couple of minutes to try to identify what it was I was supposed to be putting together,but I was fevered and not making myself very clear. Pendragon put me back in our soft-pillowed bed,and left me to sleep for an hour or two. When Wally the toadstool cuckoo clattered out to the sound of seven, Pendragon appeared at the foot of our oaken couchette and uttered the magic words "Hot Soup".
Tomato and carrot,to be precise. Hot,sweet, and full of woodland goodness. He had also warmed a couple of warm oatmeal baps and layered two kinds of honey beneath the lids,hoping their royal jelly components would restore my joie de vivre. Nothing so miraculous did take place, but the warm liquid warmed my body
and stilled my fever,and allowed me to sleep right through the night.
i woke this morning feeling better. Not completely back to my ususal chirpiness,but well enough to call on Old Scroat, for some recuperation advice.
Wrapped up as though it were midwinter,,with two woolly scarves,and my woollen cape tightly wrapped around, I found myself in the surgery for thirty minutes past the eleventh hour.
Dr. Scroat was having a liquid break, so I sat chatting to the elderly elven lady, in the next wooden seat. She had a glossy magazine in hand,but was making much to me of the fact that it was full of dismal articles. I spared no time in recommending the new look Daily Scandal to her, emphasising its problem page and entertainment sections,as being very good reading value. She was just assuring me of her intention to follow my recommendation, when Jubilicious T. Scroat called for Amarantha Willow in Room number 4.
Jubilicious is a Dingley Dell alchemist of very long standing,who has the trust of all his patients in the village. Sometimes his remedies can seem a bit outlandish and involve the gathering of rare/unpalatable ingredients, but he has considerable knowledge of the potions of the Ancients,and is known to be sure-footed in his diagnostic and prescriptive solutions.
He could see that his favourite Amarantha was in poor spirits from the moment I opened his gnarled ebony door. He is always welcoming,but it was not long before his question and answer session had produced a lightning leap to his prescription pad.

"For the next five days,Amarantha, you must bathe in the oils of the evergreen eucalyptus, while wrapped in a hot mustard seed salve. Take these hawthorn and rosehip pastilles three times per day, and drink two cupfuls of sparkling water ,drawn from the Dingley Dell Spring,every four hours. I am sure you will be better in no time. How's the agony column going ?"

I can't say my conversation was scintillating, but we did share a few bon mots, before I carried my weary bones to the door. I smiled a wan goodbye, before heading to the dispensary to collect my ingredients.
They made a huge bagful,,especially the eucalyptus leaves, which I stuffed into the front seat of the car.

Pendragon telephoned on the woodland phone to find out how his lovely patient was doing.He got a few grateful grunts in reply,then he offered to make the mustard seed salve. It is a smelly,messy job and my darling is welcome to it,I am afraid, but I know he will do it well. He has even offered to rub it in, so selfless an elven creature is he.
I am sitting now in my most comfy of nightgowns,pink slipperettes tied with gossamer bows,and my most favourite cranberry scarf wrapped round my scrawny aching neck. I will sleep soon. And when I wake my dear Pendragon will be home,ready and willing to find some comestible which I feel ready to swallow,and to tuck my tiny tootsies back up again in our cosy four poster.
He is such a fine fellow.He loves me to read my diary to him every night,so that he can be kept posted about my worries,and troubles, and share the adventures of the day.
He said to me on Sunday,that he had written an entry for my diary,which he hoped I would like.

So today,this is the Addendum of Pendragon,Mystic,Philosopher,and Healer of Souls.(and maker of mustard seed salve.)
I have not altered it in any way,so will have to accept compliments and brickbats with equal good humour.
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My dear Amarantha is such a sweet elf,I just have to intervene in her daily communications from Dingley Dell. I have asked her to take the betrothal ceremony with my elven self,and she has graciously consented. I am so very happy because she has said "yes". Our betrothal will be one of the happiest events in our joint lives together. I know that Amarantha's readers might think I'm taking on quite a bounteous and bountiful handful, though in that they would be WRONG.
She is the most delightful elf in our green ecosphere.Now some of you may feel she is a little too curious about our nearby neighbours and their shenanigans in their little toadstool homes. But there is another way to look at this. My view is that this is one way of showing how much she cares about other elven entities. Amarantha wants to know what makes them tick, in case some day she might be called upon to help them to alleviate their laughter-free existences and to further them on their journeys to Elf-Nirvanah !!
Such are the words of the elven Pendragon Willow.

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Goodnight for now ,all my dear friends,as I enjoy the sleep of the just, and the aroma of the cranberry and rosehip pastillles. May you have avoided the plagues and boils of working life this day,and rise tomorrow to feast on renewed glories. From the slightly queazy Amarantha, the Rainbow Faery.