Lovely snoring.......

'Difficult to say what makes a home a home' thought Hortensia, she had rushed back to Persimmon Heights  to check on baby Harriet and Archibold and found them both happily asleep. As long as Archibold was snoring, little Harriet slept too, she seemed to feel safe as long as she could hear the rumble and snuffles as he settled into his soft pillows. Archibold loved sleeping, climbing into a comfy bed with lovely warm fluffy covers was a delight that he had never stopped relishing, he loved to stroke his beard and tucking the end into his pyjamas (in case of snagging on buttons) - ease into his usual blissful slumbers.

The moment Hortensia walked through her kitchen door, she felt such joy and peace - here was her haven, her place of heart ease - her home. 'Breakfast' she thought 'what do I fancy today - perhaps a little scrambled egg with sautéed mushrooms in wild garlic, that would wake Archibold and Harriet up', and with that she set to rustling up a tasty breakfast - happy in her home!

Isabel The Gentle......

Hortensia wasn't surprised that Isabel had appeared next to her - Isabel, though a bit dreamy, was renowned for her ability to move in silence. All gnomes are masters of merging and flow- they have to be for humans not to detect them as they go out and about on their business - some volunteer for formal duties and indeed appear to be frozen or solid - but all gnomes can play with being - without being seen.

Isabel looked a bit like Hortensia (they were after all related, Isabel was her niece) they both had chestnut colored hair and the palest of complexions. Hortensia thought that this was because of their Hungarian ancestry - she also thought that her slightly (though Archibold thought more than slightly) impetuous nature was also due to those long ago Hungarian relatives.

What Isabel had that was so downright beautiful was big violet eyes. 'We must walk back through the bluebells' thought Hortensia, 'that way Isabel's eyes will shine out even more'. As you know violets are highly treasured by gnomes and to have violet eyes was a gift indeed. Isabel was also exceptionally kind and gentle and had a voice of purity and beauty. She often sang at gnome celebrations and just now she was preparing for the midsummer revels by absorbing as much inspiration as possible. Old Aunt Mildred had fainted last year at the sheer excitement and beauty of her song and she wanted to repeat her success this year.

Time is of the essence....

'Good morning' thought Hortensia, 'such a good morning indeed!' The birds had been singing really rather loudly for quite a while and she no longer felt like sleeping. She felt a strong pull to wander under the oak trees and marvel at  the new green leaves as the early sunlight started to shimmer through. 'Such a treat' she thought and with that she slid out of bed (carefully making sure Archibold was still warmly tucked under the covers) and ran to put her shoes on.

Sitting under her favorite tree, she felt all the peace and friendliness of the earth beneath her. Looking out she wondered how humans could miss the gift of a Spring morning, 'they seem in such a hurry in the mornings, always living by their clocks instead of nature time'. Archibold had brought a big clock home many years before, it lived in the hallway hanging on the wall, very impressive too with it's long chain and shiny face. They never wound it up as the ticking had been so loud that they couldn't hear their music at all. Hortensia found the glass rather useful as a reflective mirror - just to check she was clean and tidy before letting in important visitors (only important visitors used the front door, everyone else just went straight in the kitchen door).

'Stillness' she thought, 'what a way to start the day', she had been dozing or daydreaming a bit, feeling the great music of peace, when she had opened her eyes and been overjoyed to see that Isabel - one of her favourite friends and a most beautiful young gnome - had joined her under the tree.

Rain - ah the sweet smell of Spring rain......

Hortensia had been known to stand in the rain with her arms outstretched, her face turned up to welcome the rain drops and then dance in circles of delight - with bare feet of course. Gnomes relish and adore Spring rain, the smells of wet blossom, the quiver of mud under their feet - the incredible nurturing benefit of it all - well, it was almost too much sometimes and a General Official Frolic Day would have to be declared.

Today wasn't a Frolic Day but even so Hortensia felt that play was high on her list of adventures for the day. 'Think of the planting' she muttered to her self, she had been beginning to separate and plant on little wild strawberry plants, and the wet conditions were just right for encouraging new growth. Of course, later on in the year, she would make her renowned wild strawberry jam - oh what a delight that would be, Archibold would be curling his toes in anticipation of fresh scones with wild strawberry jam for tea.....

Stephanotis

Stephanotis had popped around for a cup of tea before setting off with Archibold on a fishing trip. Now when a gnome says he is popping in for a cup of tea first thing in the morning, what he means is, a hearty breakfast. Hortensia was famous for her fluffy buttermilk pancakes and she noted with great satisfaction that Stephanotis ate sixteen pancakes with his mint tea only slightly sweetened with honey from Hortensia's precious supply, burped once and said that he had better have one more in case the morning turned damp.

Now Hortensia didn't like fish very much, this was partially because her Father, Ruggerous O'Fly had been a fishing gnome and become rather cantankerous with his arthritics brought on by sitting by a damp pond too much, but she was happy that Archibold (or Archie the Bold) and Stephanotis were going on an adventure together. Gnomes love adventure, in fact without adventure a gnome is a forlorn creature, so Hortensia hoped that their fishing trip would be just the outing to keep their spirits high. She herself had once sat on a fish by mistake when bathing as a young gnomette and had never quite recovered from the shock.

Feet - ah feet........

For a gnome, feet are really an extra sense or intelligence all of their own - a gnome can't tell you how their feet can know things - they just do. Hortensia spent a lot of time blending herbs and oils in her pestle and mortar to ease foot ache for her and her family. The problem was how to have super soft and sensitive feet that could pick up the tremor of a mouse's foot step from a long way off - and yet be able to stand still on them for hours at a time in all kinds of conditions and weather.

Of course shoes and boots were of great importance too, but with the added challenge of the curved toe tendency, Hortensia felt that massage and gentle nurture was the key to a gnome's foot health and equilibrium. She was an expert in knitting socks with an extra padded section to cushion a big toe and her socks were much in demand. Often as she opened the door of a morning, she would find a donation of the softest, carefully collected sheep's wool, rolled into a bundle and left as a thank you gift from a grateful gnome friend.

Hortensia herself was a little proud of her feet, for a gnome they were quite small and delicate. She liked the sight of her toes peeping out in their little scarlet slippers from under her skirt, and though she was not overly vain, she was proud that her feet as yet had showed no sign of developing any curved toes.

violets for love......

Hortensia had been planting violets all day and was a little weary. She had always loved violets since Archibold had first presented her with a bunch of white violets as his courting gift. Planting violets was a particular honor and she took to her responsibilities with a joyous heart.

She knew that a lot of humans loved violets as much as she did, she often laughed with delight when she heard them exclaim in surprise at the sight of the delicate blooms. Hortensia wondered if they knew how much work gnomes put in planting them where humans could 'discover' them on their walks. She doubted that they had any idea of the planning that gnomes went to to provide an irresistible wander for humans to be inspired in. She wished, even though it was a long way down for them, that more of them would stoop down a sniff the delicate perfume that could ease a heart of grief and soothe away troublesome thoughts.

Hortensia had once long ago had eavesdropped on a young human couple listening to the most beautiful music on their radio as they had lain on their picnic blanket. After the music had finished, she had listened in amazement as she heard that violets had been the composers favourite flower - Chopin had been his name, and Hortensia had been a fan ever since. Over time (and with some clever detective work and careful spying on the home of a nearby human) she had learned to sing and play on her zither all manner of Chopin waltzes and preludes. She was particularly partial to waltzes, as being more than a little old fashioned, Archibold and her could dance a very neat waltz  - especially if she hummed a tune as they went around in their garden. Archibold loved waltzing but could get a bit wild on the turns, so Hortensia was often lifted into the air as they spun around in ever happier circles.

In any event, planting violets had become one of her special jobs and Hortensia was very grateful to be given such a heart warming task to do. She had worn her periwinkle blue apron and sung the whole day through (apart from when eating her cheese roll for lunch).

Later, she thought, when I have had a little foot soak in Aunt Mildred's Foot Ease, I shall write to Lupin and Horatio. She missed her sons now that they were away on work experience at the local garden centre.