It’s tiring on the eyes, so just take my word for it. There are one hundred and forty-five golden elephants on this scarf out of the six hundred and eight-seven total. Was I getting desperate during lockdown earlier to take to counting elephants? Yes, it’s usually sheep which attracts reluctant sleepers, not elephants. You may well wonder where all this is leading. For me, it is highly significant to wear this scarf today as I am writing my 145th blog. A gold elephant for every tale.
It is also the Sunday following Ascension Day celebrated forty days after our Christian Easter Sunday. I am hoping for good weather today as tradition has it that this will forecast a good summer. I don’t want any rain to indicate a poor harvest and disease in livestock for the coming year! We have had enough gloom and doom. I might get up early as they do in Sweden to listen for a cuckoo and hope its call comes from the East or West to bring good fortune. Not too hopeful for a cuckoo but I will listen for the blackbird or robin. I will position myself so I hear it in the most propitious direction.
Back to my elephants and scarf. It is a vintage medium size square by French designer Jean Parel, silk, hand rolled hems, made in Italy. It is smart and meets all my criteria. Although this designer worked from the Fifties to Eighties, it looks bang up to date with a snappy black, turquoise, silver and gold geometric design.....and of course all these hundreds of tiny elephants.
I have an elephant in my garden. I bought him in the Casa Pupo shop in Notting Hill, a large beautiful Chinese style piece of Spanish pottery. What a trendy shop that was way back then selling great artisan rugs, lamps and pottery. My elephant sat on my rooftop terrace in Bayswater, used as an extra seat at the cedar wood table......as you know, this has now been turned on its end and transformed into a secret door to Nowhere in my Richmond garden. The elephant seat also was recycled after a dreadful accident. Our Bayswater home was in a converted stable block where the milk dray horses were kept in a mews behind the dairy on Moscow Road. The roof terrace on the second floor had no railings, only a twelve inch parapet. I had left my long legged nephew perched on the elephant stool rather near the edge; there was a fair number of people up there and I had gone downstairs to fetch more food. I heard an almighty crash and yells. I feared a spread-eagled body lying in the mews. I still have my nephew but my elephant had its seat smashed off. We filled its empty belly with soil and planted a small spiky plant. Today, that same plant has grown twelve feet high and waves its huge fronds like an exotic palm behind the orange tree.
In the remodelling of my garden a couple of weeks ago, the elephant’s position was non negotiable. As you can see, he is not gold, but certainly to me, worth his weight in it. I do hope he isn’t feeling constipated with all these constricted tree roots in his tummy!
Busy Bee, Scarf Face!
Series 2, Blog 45.