Skip to main content

For This Moment

 


Chaos has descended on Much Malarkey Manor, so nothing new there, then. The duckling numbers continue to grow exponentially, according to Mrs Poo and her scientific calculator. Mrs Hare is now comfortably installed in the Lady Rosemary guest suite and is steadily popping out more eggs, a picture of peace, calm and serenity, with the blessings of the Goddess Ostara in abundance. Mrs Miggins, however, is moving ever closer to the end of her tether and thinks it’s going to need more than the protection of a pagan deity to see her through this particular set of circumstances. To distract herself, she’s been pondering her Gladiator name. She thinks she would probably choose ‘Livid’. Or maybe ‘Explosion’.

‘I still don’t know what we are going to do with all these ducklings,’ she says. ‘And whilst I’d like for them all to stay here forever and ever amen, I can’t help but feel it will be wholly impractical. And what if it all happens again this time next year?’

She is in the kitchen with Mrs Slocombe, who is making hot cross buns in preparation for tomorrow, which is Good Friday and the ONLY day upon which a hot cross bun should be consumed. There are many bun orders to fulfil for the village – it seems that Easter celebrations are going to be big this year. Mrs Slocombe has given Mrs Miggins the task of piping the flour paste crosses on the top of each bun and Mrs Miggins is making a right pig’s ear of it, so distracted is she with plan ‘What To Do With The Ducklings?’

‘Have you ever considered just living in the moment?’ says Mrs Slocombe, trying to resist the urge to snatch the piping bag from Mrs Miggins and do the job herself. ‘How about not fretting about the future and living for the day? My Zen teacher says it is the only way to be, in order to calm thoughts and worries about the future over which we have no control.’

Mrs Miggins raises an eyebrow at Mrs Slocombe. ‘I didn’t know you had a Zen teacher,’ she says.

‘I bet you didn’t know I can ride a unicycle and recite ‘Paradise Lost’ in its entirety either,’ says Mrs Slocombe. ‘We don’t all feel the need to broadcast our lives to the greater Universe, you know.’

Mrs Miggins nods. ‘Probably a very wise approach these days,’ she says.

Mrs Slocombe turns to look out of the large window which offers a good view of the walled kitchen garden. ‘Look,’ she says, ‘today, at this moment in time, all the ducklings are happy. Mrs Poo and Mrs Pumphrey have them all organised and they are having lots of fun. Isn’t it lovely to see?’

Outside, the ducklings are busy helping Mrs Poo and Mrs Pumphrey to tackle the first tranche of weed growth in the vegetable beds. Their tiny beaks are especially adept at picking out the tiny green nubs of growth. They are also collecting slugs, and Mrs Poo has created a tally chart which is pinned to the toolshed door, to record who collects the most slugs as there is a prize on offer for Top Slug Picker 2024.

Mrs Miggins rises from her seat and heads for the kitchen door which is wide open, welcoming in the scents and the warmth of early Spring. She looks out on the activity in the garden and nods.

‘Yes, I guess you are right, Betty,’ she says, raising her face to enjoy the heat of the Sun. ‘Just for today, all is well.’

‘And I’m sure,’ says Mrs Slocombe, bringing her friend a cup of tea, ‘that all will be well. A solution will present itself, just you wait see. Patience is a virtue.’

‘And a jolly good card game, too,’ says Mrs Miggins.

(N.B What the Lady Author especially likes about this storytelling lark is that she is wholly in charge of the weather – the Much Malarkey Manor climate is currently warm and dry, and has been so for the last three weeks allowing for much pleasant gardening activity to occur. Gentle overnight showers have cleared by morning, and small, ginger dogs plastered in mud from their walks do not exist. Unlike in real time where it continues to hiss it down with rain like it’s never, ever going to stop and dog bathing is becoming a slightly less fractious event on account of its frequency…blah…)

The day continues apace. The ducklings come inside for lunch, exhausted from their gardening activities and spend the afternoon napping in the Orangery. As the sun begins to dip in the sky, the lady hens and Mrs Hare take them for a long walk across the Manor grounds and into the woodlands where they play hide and seek and generally race around like loons.

And then, with night fall, a calm settles on the Manor, as all the occupants take to their beds, looking forward to the start of the Easter festivities on the morrow.

However…

…in the dark small hours, the slow crunching of tyres on gravel is heard, but only by the night-time creatures – fox, badger, hedgehog, owl – and they can do nothing but watch and listen as footsteps approach the back of the Manor, and the Orangery door, carelessly left unlocked, is opened and the pitter patter of tiny webbed feet on wet grass indicates the start of a whole new, and rather unwelcome adventure…   

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Frosted Dawn Enigma

The decorators are in at the moment. Stairs and landing. Given my previous history of 'Hoo Ha Occurring on Stairs ' - reference the Trapped Under the Sofa Incident and the Foot Wedged Between Bookcase and Stair Rise Debacle - I thought it wise to pay for professionals to decorate the stairs and landing rather than get myself in a mix with ladder and plank combinations and achieve the Magic Three of staircase accidents. The decorators are a father and son combo who go by the  names of Craig and David. This automatically causes me entertainment. 'Came in on a Monday, prepped, filled and undercoated, back on Thursday, first top coating, by Friday finishing touches...' Okay, not as frisky or well-scanned as the original song, but you get where I'm coming from. Anyway, before they started the job Craig asked what colour I wanted for the walls. 'Same colour as the downstairs walls, please,' said I. 'Dulux Frosted Dawn.' And then white for ...

Day 1 - Decisions Are Made Beyond the Author's Control.

‘Well,’ I say, looking at the expectant faces gathered around the huge table in the Great Dining Hall of Much Malarkey Manor, ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen this year, but it is!’ There is a sharp intake of breath as everyone wonders of what I speak. I’ve been muttering about all sorts recently, and I’m not talking liquorice here either.   ‘The Much Malarkey Manor Annual and Traditional Christmas Story!’ I say, and wait for the expulsed air of relief to settle before I continue. ‘I thought we had done it all. I thought we had covered every Christmas story there was. I’ve been wracking my brains for a full two months now, trying to come up with something we haven’t done before and then it hit me! We haven’t done a version of one of the Great Christmas Films of Yore!’ ‘Your what?’ says Mrs Slocombe, who is more interested in the selection of pastries I have brought to this breakfast meeting, because that is what one does, isn’t it? Eat pastries at breakfast...

Sun Puddles

A few weeks ago, I met up with a dear friend for a meditation and healing afternoon, both of us being light workers on the spirit pathway. It did me good to re-engage in a bit of focused energy channelling (because I have let my practice slip somewhat) and during the afternoon the words ‘sun puddles’ popped into my head.  Now, I know this wasn’t my human brain thinking these words because I have never heard the phrase before; when I arrived home, I looked it up and said to myself, ‘Aaah, you mean sun spots!’ This is a sun puddle... ...there! That thing that Flora is lying on. No, not the sofa - the warm patch of sunshine on the sofa. Here are Flora and Bambino sharing a sun puddle... This proves that no matter how much they scrap with each other and try to denude each other of fur all over my rugs, they secretly share a mutual and fond admiration. I think. And here is Bambino on a sun puddle that has come to rest on my legs... It’s his casual, ‘I’m so cool’ pose. Metaphorically coo...