Saturday, December 10, 2011
Lillian Virginia Mountweazel :: Garden and Tea
As noted, it's high time Lillian Virginia Mountweazel, Weazie Ratty-Rat, has a post of her own. And so I bring you Weazie in the Garden, with Tea.
On a blue sky November day, I gathered empty pots, and a bag of bulbs, and decided to share planting paper whites with Maria. From her cozy home, we saw Weazie, watching us with an expression that clearly read, Oh, do please let me help.
Out came Weazie, and she went straight to work, helping to gently tamp down the soil, and count bulbs. "Don't nibble, Weazie," we gently reminded. She never nibbles anything but carrots and other suitable ingestibles, but we wanted to be sure she did not sample the bulbs.
Maria was enthralled... brown, papery clumps were sprouting? They will become dainty, white flowers on long graceful stems? Weazie was delighted too, with her work, and the perfect sunlit day. She scurried about sniffing, counting, tending each pot.
We brought her dish, with something for refreshment. She selected a favored tidbit.
Nibble, nibble, nibble.
Weazie is dainty. She eats slowly, mindfully. Perhaps she is French? She does seem to dine with a Parisian's air of refinement, and savoir faire.
In the meantime, Maria was tucking in the bulbs with some moss. She and I talked about the eager bulbs that had already begun to sprout, and how happy they would be to straighten up, now that they could reach the light.
Pardon me for interrupting, Weazie interjected. Is this something I may try?
In all the busyness of planting and conversing, my tea had gone cold. Pity, but I wasn't thirsty either, so...
Weazie helped herself. She takes chai with a bit of milk, and lightly sweetened, thank you.
The Mountweazels, purveyors of fine teas and exotic spices, came to this land aboard great sea vessels, where in the cargo hold they would brew a great many cups of tea to sustain themselves on the long voyage, and she licked her lip contentedly.
A bit more.
And now a cleaning. No cream on the whiskers, please.
Weazie tidied herself.
Right, and left... until she was suitably clean.
Oh, I was just thinking, she seems to reply, How lovely it is to garden with friends, to share diversions, and nourishment, and to reflect on the joys of anticipation. Flowers and Christmas, holidays and friends. It makes my heart glad.
Me too, Weazie. Me too.
All the bulbs in pots, snug in the earth, facing the sun.
Our work and play are done.