Fairy dust

We've been away with the fairies. To whit, a tooth fairy has been. I know. I arose from my bed at five a.m. to make sure she'd been. She had. So this morning, in addition to the excitement of finding a dead lump of enamel transformed into a shining coin we had the following philosophical discussion.

What does the tooth fairy do with the teeth?

Suggestions ranged from decoration (think South Sea island head-hunters only safer) to planting them in the gums of babies. After all, there'll be a lot of teeth.

Meanwhile Myownfairy.com has been in touch asking if we'd like a fairy door, like this one.

Of course, we said yes. Just think of the imaginative possibilities! If a mere tooth can be such a source of inspiration, well...

I'll show you where a fairy lives -

She has a tiny house;

She has taken the apartment 

Of an absent field-mouse.

She has to hang her washing

On a line the spiders pin

And she wears a pair of slippers

Cut out of orange skin. 

She carries an umbrella

No bigger than a pin,

And she bought an empty acorn,

To pack her dresses in.

The petal of a pimpernel 

She uses for a frock,

And she tells the time by blowing

On a dandelion clock. 

My eldest used to know that verse by heart. Now, she's memorising a million facts about Stalin, Soviet Russia and such-like for 'A' level history.

Where does the time go?