Savage Garden

Last Friday, Luca's friend Jack came over after school. As soon as I opened the front door, their first words to me were, "We're hungry." (Note: There is no appetite as ferocious as that of a little boy. Not even The Divine Italian comes close.) 

I had baked some cardamom banana bread the day before, so I toasted some slices in my trusty Dualit and spread a thin layer of Nutella on them. (There were sliced pears involved, too. I'm not a total reprobate.) They gobbled everything down in a manner which, while not notable for its daintiness, was nevertheless entirely age-appropriate...

...and bolted into the miniature Narnia of our garden.

Moments later, I heard some loud "ribbits" and discovered two frogs engaged in a battle of belches by the pool.

Then the frogs morphed into brave knights and carefully threaded their way along the edge of a steep mountain precipice.

One of them had to negotiate his way over a fiery dragon-filled moat below. He barely made it.

Can you see the dragons? You can't? Me, either. I was told that's because "grownups can never see what's right in front of them." Interesting.

The other knight hung onto the edge of a steep crag by his fingertips for what seemed like hours and barely avoided a terrifying drop of eight inches.

Saturday was sunny and beautiful, so we didn't venture far from The Kenmore Arms. It would be very poetic to say that the drops of water on these plants came from dew...

 but I think it was the sprinklers.

We recently adopted a new gnome (after the tragic demise of our last one) and let him out in the garden so he could acclimate to his new surroundings. Luca thought the goggles would come in handy should he crave a late-night swim. 

Twiglet, our nervous vicar of a cat, retreated into the shade of a hedge and, despite Luca's cajoling, refused to come out until we resolutely ignored him. Then he sidled up next to us like he was Paris Hilton and we were paparazzi.

I had just settled down to read Wilkie Collins' "The Haunted Hotel" (amazing! compulsive! can't put it down!) and was enjoying the peace and quiet when this fearsome bear suddenly appeared.

I kept still as he prowled around my chair, sniffing out his territory. He made pawing motions at me and I gathered that he was attempting to communicate. 

He was. "Mom, I'm hungry."