Lavender's Blue

I've been away and now I'm back. Yes there's a gap in the story (there ARE gaps in all stories) and no I don't have a ready report tonight. Come back later, bring the billy goats if you must, but know that I might bring the troll (or a small wolf, if the troll is otherwise engaged).

Kira sleeps next door, her cd player still on. Lazy lullabies linger round the bed, ooze onto the balcony, into the hallway, down the stairs. I follow in a trance and observe how someone left both garage doors open. clunk. clunk. On my way back I step on the car keys and realise (the same?) someone left the car open. click-buzz-click.

no, at this point, although the tension thickens and suspense reaches unbearable levels, i don't jump in the car and drive off a) to fling myself into the minho, b) to meet mystery man, or c) to duel-at-dawn with the garage-and-car-door-neglectful-numpty.

this is because a) i still loathe driving, b) i've got the horrible blue slippers on, c) there's a half-full glass of wine waiting in the bedroom and d) i'm a little busy at the moment.

so where are we going then? upstairs of course, where the red wine awaits, the lullaby lingers and the dreadful blue slippers can disappear under the bed for the next six months.

on the way up, a smooth little song catches my attention. Simple and serene – like all good things – it seems to rhyme with senhor Felix in 1969, with us today (our March, our May...) A seed of house-of-happy history in 59 words and no dilly-dilly:

“Lavender's blue, lavender's green
when i am king you shall be queen

call up your men, set them to work
some to the plough, some to the cart

some to make hay, some to cut corn
while you and i keep ourselves warm

lavender's green, lavender's blue
if you love me i will love you”