After a disappointment at the library which was closed for staff training, I perked Maeve up with a trip to "go shopping for flowers". I had a gift certificate for a local nursery, a housewarming present we hadn't gotten around to spending yet, so off we went in search of a hanging basket for the porch.
About ten steps inside the gate, Maeve found Flamango, as she calls him. She touched him reverentially, then started bringing him flower petals she found on the ground. And there are a lot of flower petals and blooms on the ground at a nursery, so he was rich in flower tribute.
I found the hanging basket I wanted, with ten dollars left to go on the gift card. I decided Flamango could come home with us because Maeve was obviously attached to him, and because she wouldn't leave the area he was in, so I couldn't shop for anything else. Game over.
She managed not to poke herself with his giant metal legs in the car, and somehow I convinced her that he liked to be in the garden and not inside the house, so she decided Flamango should take up residence next to Saint Francis, in our courtyard. An unlikelier couple has never been seen.
Flamango has a big attitude; he sports a furrowed brow and too-cool-for-school demeanor. Saint Francis humbly feeds birds all day, but has not offered so much as a scrap to Flamango as yet. I keep expecting to walk outside and find his hands around Flamango's neck, or half of his tonsure pecked off. I will keep you updated.
|Now, Francis, you be nice.|
|The hanging basket I picked out|