The Dormouse

When I was a child this poem used to reduce me, unfailingly, to fits of uncontrollable weeping.

There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he’d a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said:
“Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed.
Just say ‘Ninety-nine’ while I look at your chest….
Don’t you find that chrysanthemums answer the best?”

The Dormouse looked round at the view and replied
(When he’d said “Ninety-nine”) that he’d tried and he’d tried,
And much the most answering things that he knew
Were geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

The Doctor stood frowning and shaking his head,
And he took up his shiny silk hat as he said:
“What the patient requires is a change,” and he went
To see some chrysanthemum people in Kent.

The Dormouse lay there, and he gazed at the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue),
And he knew there was nothing he wanted instead
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

The Doctor came back and, to show what he meant,
He had brought some chrysanthemum cuttings from Kent.
“Now these,” he remarked, “give a much better view
Than geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).”

They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
“And now,” said the Doctor, “we’ll soon have you right.”

The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:
“I suppose all these people know better than I.
It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).”

The Doctor came round and examined his chest,
And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest.
“How very effective,” he said, as he shook
The thermometer, “all these chrysanthemums look!”

The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight
Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
“How lovely,” he thought, “to be back in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red.)”

The Doctor said, “Tut! It’s another attack!”
And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,
And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,
And murmured, “How sweet your chrysanthemums are!”

The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes,
And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:
“I’ll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!”

The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,
And saying, “There’s nobody quite understands
These cases as I do! The cure has begun!
How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!”

The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight
He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white.
And all that he felt at the back of his head
Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)
If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed,
You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies
Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.

I identified very keenly with the poor Dormouse who only wanted to be left in peace in his beautiful garden and I was completely undone by the colonial arrogance of the dreaded Doctor who was determined to improve the lot of the poor, hapless rodent without any regard for his preference or the simple needs of his gentle furry soul.
I have loathed chrysanthemums ever since (such a vulgar flower, anyway, reeking of late-night forecourts and last minute, desperate mixed bunch guilt) and for several years running I cultivated a bed of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue) in my London garden in honor of the Dormouse. He never came to live there in person, but I believe his spirit dozed there happily on warm afternoons amongst the blooms.

I have been thinking about the Dormouse a great deal over the last few weeks, and reading the poem to Four, quite often having to stop to wipe away a tear or two before continuing. She is very curious and wants to know 

“WHY does the Doctor want to dig up the flowers?”

Because he thinks he knows better

“But WHY doesn’t the Dormouse say no?”

Because he thinks the Doctor might know better, and he does not feel brave enough to disagree.

“But WHY, if he didn’t like it, doesn’t he just go to another flower bed?”

Um. I don’t know. Good question. Maybe he was too scared to look? Or too sleepy?

“That’s silly. I would look. I don’t want to be asleep all my life” 

Oh.. No.  Me neither.

But I have been asleep. 

Like the Dormouse in the ‘mums (surely no coincidence in that name!) and Dorothy in the poppies (the California state flower!) I have been in a quiet Stepford stupor for an indecently long period and have almost forgotten who I was before I came here.

But fortunately I have not completely forgotten. And Four is not my daughter for nothing.

I am awake now, and have decided to take myself off for a change of scenery. I shall be viewing some delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red) at the end of the month on a very long overdue trip back to London ON MY OWN.

I am so excited I can hardly sit still. 

There were so many reasons I need to go back this year: a wedding, a christening, aging grandparents, a house that needs attention, friends, family, boring administrative matters to handle, banks to shout at, bluebells to look at, walks to take, tea to drink, critical shopping to do,getting my hair fixed properly, the list goes on.. None of them, however, managed to get me off my bottom and actually book the flight. Mostly because I kept on thinking about bringing the children. EOS. It only occurred to me on Friday that I could LEAVE THEM BEHIND and go off on my own. 

Duh.

Funnily enough it was a casual invitation to lunch with a group of people I don’t actually know that made me go “Oh fuck it, why not?” and reach for the credit card.

Yes, that feels MUCH more like me.