Fuchsia and Creatures in the Garden

The maze of spindly branches took a battering from storm Frances but it’s still standing. A dishevelled pile of pink and red.

Fuchsia symbolises elegance and good taste but the only things around here that manage that are the cats.  

My phone is full of moments. Cat against matching branch, cat stretching, cat curled up, cats together, cats apart. Every action is wondrous. Chasing silver balls, pouncing on fluff or purring on laps. We are not wondrous to the cats. They ignore us when we come home, walk away from hand-cooked delicacies and vanish at the first sight of visitors.

The Fuchsia also symbolises confiding love and trust. This comes from Stumpy, the terrier next door. Always squealing a greeting to show that I am the most important person in his life.

I had dogs before the cats took over and they all did terrible things. The Greedy Fat Pig who knew exactly when a sandwich would be left unattended, The Socialite who adopted children on campsites, kindly gifting regurgitated food into sleeping bags in front of dog-hating parents and The Traveller who regularly set off alone for the shop only to end up in the dog pound with a £50 recovery fee. All of this was forgivable because the deeds were done under a cloak of adoration for the very ground I walked upon.

Some people have evolved to a higher state where they live free from responsibility, vets bills, vomit and hairs in the wrong places. The rest of us are never happy unless we have an animal on the go, especially in uncertain times. During lock-down the price of puppies went up like compost.

Many creatures have been through this place.

The lost parrot who turned up and stayed long enough to learn the theme tune to the Archers. He liked biting fingers and made me feel guilty for going to work by screaming welcomes when I got home. It was a good day when his owner was found.  

The hamster who died and escaped at the same time. One terrible day he was pronounced dead in his cage. The body turned out to be a forgotten sweetcorn cob, so mouldy it had grown hairs. The real hamster had legged it. He turned up years later, a small skeleton behind the piano. I hope he had a happy time there.   

Fish because it is fun buying tank, lights, filter, fish of many colours and a catfish, because catfish are cheap and look interesting. The law of keeping fish is that you have to Know Stuff or you end up with a tank of green sludge and one fat catfish.   

The Crow with a broken wing who eventually flew away. Sometimes he would return to say hello and there would be a discussion about ‘is that the same crow?’

There are regulars. House Martins arrive in in March to breed under the roof, bats celebrate long evenings in June with shadowy dances and this week baby hedgehogs are appearing, only to scuttle away in the time it takes to say ‘Come quick there’s a hedgehog’.

And the chickens, except they have not passed through.  They are still here pigging out on chicken food, trying to get in the house and laying not one egg between them. I hope ‘Off Lay’ is a temporary thing.

And the bees. They have definitely passed through. The only things buzzing by the hives are wasps sniffing for honey. After 7 years of bees there is stuff everywhere, hives, suits, smokers, tools, jars and contraptions for extracting honey. ‘Sell all the bee stuff’ finally made it to the top of the list of things to do, word went out and beekeepers are are being reeled in.

Beekeepers are often friendly retired professionals who have time for a chat and like to haggle. The new career of running a beekeeping shop involves soaking in each customer’s life story, being brave enough to refuse to ‘throw that in for free’, caving in about ‘rounding it down a bit’ and agreeing to take addresses and ‘pop by sometime’.  It takes one hour to sell 4 items and acquire a new friend for life whether you want one or not.

So the bees left us with some cash and an appreciation of beeswax candles. They are perfect for illuminating cat portraits.

The Fuchsia petals are falling, storms are passing and visitors come and go.  Outside the garden there are tent shops and the bee cash has gone on a garden shelter for safe outdoor gatherings.  It looks like this when the lights are on.

The final update on the sweet baby pigeon. He is running out of fluff and turning into just another pigeon. He’ll be gone by next week. Hope he doesn’t meet a cat on his way out.