The Fairy who tore her wing.

 

Image result for Google free images fairies

 

 

Once upon a time, all the fairies in Fairyland who had been good were allowed to come down to earth for one whole day.  They could fly away at sunrise on the strict understanding that they must be home before the sun had set.

Esmerelda was usually the naughtiest fairy, and very noisy, but she had tried very, very hard to be good, so she was allowed to go with the others.

‘If you come back late, you’re in trouble,’ Scary fairy said.

Esmerelda didn’t say anything naughty.

 

The fairies, knew that nobody could see them on earth, because fairies are invisible.  They sat on the end of spades when gentlemen were digging their gardens, and they scattered little weeds.  The gentlemen huffed and puffed and dug all over again.  The fairies laughed, but nobody heard anything.

Some fairies perched on clothes lines when ladies were pegging out the washing.  They pulled hard on the pegs.  Ping!  The pegs flew off and the ladies huffed and puffed when they bent down to pick them up.  The fairies rolled about laughing – they were having a great time.

Soon though, it was time to go home.  Everyone lined up for roll call.  Esmerelda was at the end of the line, huffing and puffing, because she was very nearly late.  One by one the fairies spread their wings and lifted into the air.  Then they flew in a straight line for Fairyland.

At last it was Esmerelda’s turn.

She got up on tip toe, held out her wings and waited for lift off.  Nothing happened!  She tried again, and then again, and then she looked carefully at each wing.  There was a tear, just big enough so that she couldn’t fly.  Couldn’t fly?  She must get back to Fairyland!

She sat down alone on a fallen branch and cried big, splashy tears.

Soon she heard a voice.  ‘What’s the matter?’  There was a bird on the branch she was sitting on:  a bird with bright red feathers.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

‘I’m Robin Redbreast,’ he said.  ‘I’m at your service.’

‘I’ve torn my wing, and I can’t get back to Fairyland.  I must be back before sunset!’  Splash, splash went the tears.

‘If you can’t fly, I can give you a lift,’ he said.  ‘We’ll go to see the spider:  she’ll know what to do.’

Esmerelda wasn’t sure she liked spiders, but she needed a lot of help because she had to get back.  So she climbed onto Robin’s wing and they flew off to see his friend.

His friend was very plump.  She was enormous, and she was in the middle of a very big web.  She stared down at them as she listened to their tale of woe.

‘I’m Ida Spider,’ she said airily, ‘and I have plenty of thread.’  She shuffled some of her eight plump legs so that they could see the threads of the web she was sitting in.  ‘As you can see, this is a fir tree,’ she said importantly, so we have plenty of needles.  It is a small matter to sew up your wing, so stop those tears at once!  You are making me feel quite damp!’

Esmerelda hung on to Robin while Ida spider mended her wing with a cobweb of fine stitches.  At last it was done, and it didn’t hurt a bit.

Ida sat back and viewed her work.  ‘First Class,’ she said.  ‘You know; I could write you an alibi in my spidery handwriting?’

‘Thank you so much,’ Esmerelda said, ‘but I really must fly!’

Robin perched at the end of a branch.  He watched as she tried out her wings.  She fluttered them once, she fluttered them twice, and then she rose in a perfect arc into the sky.

‘Bye-e-e-e.’

 

 

‘Last as usual,’ said the gatekeeper, a fussy fairy, called Mary, with very thick spectacles. ‘You only had ten minutes left!’

‘A stitch in time saves nine.’  Esmerelda said.

‘You’re being naughty again,’ Mary fairy said.  ‘You’ll sit on the naughty step!’

‘You’ll have to catch me first!’  Esmerelda said – but she said it very quietly.

 

LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.co.uk.  Enjoy!

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Un/Faithful blog prompt.

File:Maliavanki FROM VILEIKA with LOVE 14.09.2013 Minsk 01.jpg

File:Maliavanki FROM VILEIKA with LOVE 14.09.2013 Minsk 01.jpg

 

Ref:  Do I have faith?

After a lot of misgivings and flirting with atheism, then being agnostic but never sure – because I couldn’t quite believe there was nothing – I found out what I believe about faith.

Some years ago while listening to the radio I heard a man of God say:  It’s all quite simple – God is love.

Well, what a relief!

I had been brought up Plymouth Brethren, not a fun way to go through life – I left at 16 years old.  I had Roman Catholic friends and that didn’t quite fit.  I’d been saved by the Church of England, so I was officially a Christian for passport purposes.  I dissolved into tears at the sound of a Salvation Army Band because I knew I was a sinner.

And then:

That man who should know said – God is love.

I can believe in that wholeheartedly.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

For the prompt: Sorry, I’m busy.

A Lesson for Life.

I was young, and living alone in Canada.  I met another English girl who was very unhappy, homesick and had no way of getting home.  I chatted to her, felt I was cheering her up, and invited her to have tea with me after work the following day.

When it came to the next day I was busy and my place was a mess.  I had not bought any cake, and wished I had not made the commitment. I decided it was best to make it for another day.  I called the girl and explained.

I next heard of her in the local newspaper.  She had consumed a bottle of bleach, and though not dead was to remain in hospital with long lasting internal injuries.

I never saw or heard of her again, but she has remained on my conscience.  I know that it might have made a difference if I had not been too busy.

My lesson for life:  It doesn’t matter whether your place is a mess, or there isn’t any cake.  It matters that you make time for people.

 

Ref: blog A Tale of Two cities.

We’re asked:  If you could split your time between two cities, and only two, which would they be?

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Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner, that I love London so.  That’s one city, and the other would be New York, (that’s New York, New York!)

I suppose almost everyone loves the city that they were brought up in.  I am a city person, not one much for views.  I see a pleasant vista and think: ‘that’s nice, let’s move on.’  People – there’s the thing.  People make the world go around, not always very well, but better than scenery.

London and New York have characters whom I understand.  They have quick wit and a tongue to match.  Dorothy Parker, who wrote for the New Yorker once said:  “The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.”

I was once in a very frightening situation, of which I may write another time.  It involved a long dark corridor down which I was being pushed, helped along by a gun in my back.  I stopped dead: not going to go there.  I heard a London accent say:  ‘Use your loaf, duck, and you’ll be alright.’  So I did.  That voice was very comforting:  my virtue would remain intact.

‘Loaf’ is cockney rhyming slang for for ‘head.’  (Work it out.)  My head told me it was a robbery, and insurance would cover it.

The city of London has the tower.  The Tower of London is filled with ghosts:  history is in every stone.  I can feel those people.  John Donne, who married his cousin at the King’s displeasure.  He scratched on the wall:  “John Donne.  Anne Donne.  Undone.”  Wit, at a time like that!

New York has Ellis Island.  More ghosts, so many poor souls went through there.  Ellis island is, for me, steeped in anguish.  The people who got through, had made a hell of a journey and arrived in time for the Depression, and survived.  That is spirit.

There are so many great cities, most of which I don’t know, but I would be happy to split my precious time between London and New York.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

My Party, so My Rules!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “RSVP.”

The brief was:  ‘Give a person you are close to a wonderful day.’  Where?  Who?  What was served?  What happened?

Due to circumstances, I don’t have anyone close to me.  Ah!  No, really that’s all right.  I am very close to myself.  I do have good friends, but that’s not what you meant, (I’ve decided.)

So I can have a wonderful time on this trip.  I can choose exactly what I want.  As I’ve inferred, I’m very fond of… me.  I’ve chosen the past, a long time ago when men were suave and women no better than they should be, but elegant with it.

So where?  Well it would have to be in the south of France, possibly Biarritz.  Hotel du Palais.  1, Avenue du l’emperatrice!  I reckon we could find a good billet there.  I can see my friends sipping something super in the bar.  A sumptuous bar, but a bar just the same.  They won’t mind.

Who they are is not difficult.  I have always thought that I’d enjoy a pie and a pint with Noel Coward.  He talks my language, well nearly.  He gives an example of ‘aplomb.’  “Entering a white tie and tails party wearing an ordinary suit, a man announced:  “Please, I don’t want anyone to apologize for over dressing.”

I love it.

I’d like Oscar Wilde at the table, he who was banged up in Reading gaol.  Imagine the wit!  “I’m so clever,’ he’d say, ‘that sometimes I don’t understand a single word of what I’m saying.”   While I’m laughing at that, he’ll say:  “I don’t want to go to heaven; none of my friends are there.”  He and Noel will then vie for the best line.  Oscar would win, I think, but I once read that my friend Noel stated when nearing his last, that love was the whole point of everything.  That might put him a few points ahead.

They are both very flip and clever, but then Oscar carries the day.  “You don’t love someone for their looks,” he says, “or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.”  That gets me where it hurts.  I have to look away.

For a female companion it’s a no brainer, it’s Dorothy Parker.  She will drink a martini of course.  (Look that up!)  She’ll hold her own against the wit of the men.  I think I’ll explode as I hear her drawl:  “You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.”

The food?  I don’t give a damn about the food – I just don’t want to leave, but I must.

What happened?  Well nothing romantic happened, we’ve all got the wrong plumbing.

This party is over now, but as Dorothy says:

“If you wear a short enough skirt, the party will come to you!”

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

We all know Cats are Superior!

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “An Odd Trio.”

The prompt was to link a cat, a bowl of soup and a beach towel.  So, here we go.
Bridge Street, Chester.jpg

 

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Chester had a smile like the Cheshire cat.  A black and white Cheshire cat, because that’s what he was, living as he did in the county of Cheshire, in England.   Chester smiled today because he was comfortable, lying on a pile of beach towels.  The beach towel on top was particularly fluffy.  It belonged to his Carer, the lovely Samantha.

Those in the know will catch on straight away that Chester is not near a beach, so something was up.  Samantha had a plan, and Chester was having none of it.  His best bet was to sit on the towels.

Chester liked to think that the town of Chester was named after him, but the reality was that it was named Deva Victrix  (Good grief!) by the Romans in AD74.  It was founded in the reign of Vespasian, having been one of the three main army camps at the time.  (How awful!)  It was in the Roman Province of Britannia.   It was made a city and re-named much later on, by somebody sensible.

Those pesky Romans, along with the dastardly French, were always a nuisance.  Chester was one of the last cities to fall to William the Conqueror in 1066.  (Giving himself that title, speaks for itself.)

Time passed.

Now Samantha was tickling behind his ear.  That was quite nice.  She put out a finger, and he nibbled at it, there was something tasty on that.  He sat up and took an interest.  Samantha was eating from a bowl of something, soup by the look of it.  Was it nice?  She had put some on a saucer and was pouring milk onto it.  Mmmm.

Curiosity.  Chester knew that curiosity killed the cat, but that was some other cat, and that was a delightful smell wafting over.  He got up and stalked to the table, leapt onto the chair, and…

Samantha had gone and collected the pile of beach towels!

How sneaky!  What a cheek!

Chester knew though, that he had won.

He was the cat that got the cream.

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Chester would like to thank Wikipedia for its assistance in this matter.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

Say It With Flowers…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Secret Admirers.

It happened, at the most inauspicious time.  I returned from a holiday with one of my girl mates to find my mother in a state of joyful trepidation.

‘Look in your bedroom,’ she said.

I could hardly get in the room.  I was blinded.  My bed was taken up by a huge bouquet of bright orange gladioli.  The room was lit up in the glow!

‘Who sent them?’  I asked.

‘I couldn’t find a card,’ said Mother, who was dying to get me off her hands, as she called it.

Then the penny dropped.  I knew the sender.  It was the very amusing, but utterly unattractive to me, casual boyfriend I thought I’d got rid of.  The irrepressible Neddy.

I am not one to have things hanging over my head.  ‘Out damned spot!  That’s my motto.  So when Neddy called to ask when he could take me out, I said – ‘Call for me tonight.’

How would I tell him?  What could I say?  How would I break the news that his sell-by date had passed?

We walked round the block, as I demanded.  We talked and I waited for the right moment, but he beat me to it.

‘I want us to be together.’ He clasped me and gazed into my eyes.

‘You mean…’  I gulped.  ‘You want to marry me?’

‘No,’ he said.  ‘But I thought we might move in together.’

I was a very moral Miss in those days, and the shock hit me like a blunderbuss.  Then I laughed, and he laughed and we hung on to each other, laughing like drains.

Somehow I conveyed that the party was over.  We separated, and remained good friends for quite a long time.

He went back to his old girlfriend, and they married.  (The irony wasn’t lost on me!)

As far as I know, they lived happily ever after.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

The Secret World of a Closet Dancer

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No Apologies.”

File:A peep at Parisot with Q in the corner.jpg

Dancing, that’s my down and dirty secret.  When I’m on my own, particularly when I’m watching Strictly Come Dancing on television, then I dance like there’s no tomorrow.

I don’t do it when I go out, even if my favourite music is on.  I might twitch my hips if I’m quite sure that no-one is watching, but I keep in mind that I really do care if I make a fool of myself.  There’s something about older people dancing that is faintly repulsive.

Once in a very blue moon I will turn it on.  Once, back in Nepal when we stopped for lunch at a restaurant, far from the poor folk we were working for, I danced with a boy of sixteen.  They had a disco going and he asked me to join him.  Not a sedate dance, I soon found out, he wanted to go for it.  So I did – and he followed my steps.  It got better and better and when the first dance finished and we started again, the audience parted – you know, the way they do in Hollywood films, and we had the floor to ourselves.  I called it a day at the end of that.  Quit while you’re winning!

Before our group departed, I saw the boy again.  He was with friends.  We nodded politely.  It’s nice to know that others have a secret side.

I’m a polite person on the face of it:  butter wouldn’t melt…

If you would like to know me better… Just ask me to dance!

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

A Prince among Men

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Truth Serum.”

File:Talleyrand floatingwiththetide0001.jpg

If I had a truth serum, I would like to persuade Prince Charles to drink it.

I would ask him if his valet really spreads royal toothpaste on the brush ready for use.

I would ask him how he feels now about having been brought up with constant restrictions.  ‘One day you will be King, so you can’t….’  He must have heard that so many times.

How he felt when he was made to marry the ‘eminently suitable’ Diana Spencer.

How he reacted when he was villainised by the people for his relationship with Camilla Parker Bowles.

I would ask him if it rankled when Diana was idolised, regardless of her behaviour.

I’d give a lot to know how he gets on with Prince Philip, a ‘national treasure’ now, but was he much fun as a Dad?

Finally, I would ask:

‘Sir.  After waiting so long, are you hurt that some of us would prefer the young and handsome Prince William to be King?’

I’ve got a feeling he would say:

‘Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!’

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!

Fourteen Years of Fun and Frolic

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Six of One, Half a Dozen of the Other.”

738px-Can_can_dancers_at_Mini_Hollywood

‘Write in six words what you expect your future to hold.’  That, more or less was the brief, ‘and then, they said:  ‘expand on the theme.’

For a very long time I have thought I would turn up my toes in fourteen years from now.  Fourteen years of fun and frolic is what I shall aim for.

I confidently expect to get my way, I’m good at that.

First, let’s take a look at our future.  Our expectations depend to some extent on what age we are at this time.  If you are young, you may be intent on becoming a star of stage and screen, or a football hero, or better yet an entrepreneur with that light bulb flash of inspiration.  Bill Gates,  Richard Branson,  Steve Jobs,  James Dyson, they’ve all had them.  They’ve all had to put in the hours and would probably tell us that it isn’t easy.  Be careful what you wish for.

If you’re mature – I much prefer to use that euphemism – you are likely to want to live life  through your grandchildren, confidently expecting that they’ll love you for it.  Remember – be careful what you wish…

Me.  I’m footloose and fancy free.  I wish that was not the case, but with maturity comes loss, and one looks for compensation.  One is entitled!

My mother said that when you’re … mature, you can be outrageous and nobody minds.  So I will be.  I shall dress inappropriately, drink a little too much, dance like nobody’s looking; and throw myself at some passing philanderer.

Live like there’s no tomorrow.

I’d like that.

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LaLa Land by Malabar Cash is an ebook  for Kindle: available on Amazon.  Enjoy!