The Fearless Faery and I chatted for ages yesterday over the front garden fence. It is amazing really,as we do not really have very much in common. Our lifestyles are very diverse,but we seem to get along just by being interested in what the other is busy with. She always has some tidy gossip to tell me and I seem to thrill her with my tales of my exploits in Metropolis . She has a gentle nature on the surface,but I think she could be a smouldering fire underneath. I feel there are many things she does not tell you,and has a kind of presence which she shows the world,but keeps the door shut to some other secret life. Her pretty little beast Daisy ran around trying to capture a butterfly of stunning red shades as it flitted to and fro between the fading blooms in both our gardens. The butterfly had the best of her,unfortunately, being much too fast and much too wary to be caught by a mere barking creature.
Our meeting with Queen Brighid the Bright went reasonably well. Pendragon did not look very pleased for most of the evening,as she ploughed through reams of ancient parchments trying to settle on choices for songs and readings. He wanted to be somewhere else doing other things, instead of listening to her droning tones.
We did eventually find some mutual ground and made up an agenda for our betrothal ceremony. We did laugh occasionally and reminisce over some joint activities we had been involved with, and she seemed pleased at our ardour to be wed,and share our lives together. I am sure I saw a small mist well up in at least one of her shiny blue eyes when we talked of how we had met,and the great times we had spent together already. Queen Brighid used to have a partner a good ten years ago - a startlingly handsome elven stockbroker,whom she loved to parade on her arm at Dingley community events.But it all came to a sad and nasty end when he ran off to foreign parts with a local tavern wench named Salliva . She was a buxom piece with mouth to match ,with a rather too well-known and chequered history with Dingley's lotharios,and not at all the kind of woman you might have expected him to fall for. Un-educated,uncultured and with a taste for the grape. Anyway,Queen Brighid has not heard of,or seen him since . She tells those in her inner circle that she cares not a whit, and that if he ever returned she would drum him back out of the village post haste. But in the dead of night,when she is at her most alone,I fear that her heart still aches and her soul still pines for the dark-haired lothario who once shared her four poster. The incident has hardened her feelings to the plight of others though,and sometimes,in some critical situations she comes across as brittle and sharp.
So I daresay Pendragon and I got off lightly on Tuesday. She sailed through our interview with hardly a harsh word. She tittered a little when I said my dress would be dark red, but made no big fuss. Pendragon is such a darling soul in company that I don't think she dared break his happy mood,and I think the magic that pervades our homely toadstool brings feelings of warmth and comfort to all those who enter.
She left with a gay goodnight and almost a smile.
I met with the Rugman today. The carpet on our stairway is looking the worse for wear,and is proving very difficult to clean. So the Rugmsn came to inspect it,declared it past its best and has measured up for a beautiful ,pure wool navy runner.I am very excited about it. It will make a great deal of difference to our hallway ,the first part of our toadstool which visitors see when they arrive.Wally our clock cuckoo,darted out and in a few times as the Rugman was leaving,thereby giving the navy choice his full approval as well.
The rest of today has been full of chores from pressing vestments to writing letters,to sweeping paths,and filing documents. A working day is what we call it. The fearless Faery was out scything her grassy patch, when I went to the Mail Slot and when I returned I bumped into Weedy and Severity Primpole returning home after a long walk with their wildebeests. They smiled (at least their lips seemed to part in that direction) and trundled on. They would not want to stop for fear the wildebeests followed their natural instincts and ate me. Weedy seemed to be having particular difficulty hanging on to the black one,and was dragged back through the gate and up the path. Severity gaily trotted behind with the old gold beast, and gingerly pushed it into the house,before closing the world out and them in.
Tomorrow I have another busy day.The morning in Brigantia,a meeting over lunch with my editorial team, and maybe a quiet coffee somewhere nice before taking some photographs for one of my painting projects.
i have my first betrothal gown fitting on Tuesday .I am very excited about this. The dress is going to be beautiful. On Monday I am going to be fitted for some lacey underpinnings as I want to look my best in my ceremony dress.
The days this week have been characterised by greyness and windyness outside.The nights are growing colder. The garden seems to have lost a lot of its colour and strength. The birds visiting the birdhouse are growing fewer and I have not seen Bob the Bee for two weeks. Some sad,dying wasps have hovered,in their last throes of life. And our little black toad has not been seen either since two weeks past Friday. Nature is turning, and we cannot alter the circle of life.
Button up your overcoats,my dear winsome ones, and strap on your galoshes up to the knee. Woolly scarves and mittens are about to make a reappearance, when the wildness of autumn days comes upon us.
It might be too much to hope now for signs of an Indian summer, but Saturday might delude you into thinking that may happen.
From Amarantha Willow,the pride of Lobelia Drive,the Rainbow Faery.
