Always Bet on the Black

Ladycakes, come and see! You have to come and see!!

I yelled in at the kitchen door excitedly as if an Ocelot had bounced up in my lap and told me it could be anything I wanted it to be.

What the hell is it? Why are you making such a racket?

The Good Lady thumped to the kitchen door and stood there with an accusing hand on her hip like an antique clay teapot that had been shaped by a madman.

The black shit! The black shit! It's back!!

I hopped from foot to foot just paces away from her waving a hand behind me at the garden.

The black shit? Oh bloody hell, is it that bloody weird fox again with the shiny eye?

The Good Lady harrumphed at the thought of Ole Bright Eye who kept laying dark eggs on our lawn and occasionally screamed and bubbled during the night like a hairdresser trying to operate an Android phone.

No, not Ole Bright Eye. The good black shit. Come on, you have to see!!

I tugged at her sleeve to get her to follow me but she resisted.

Oh, you mean Barnaby! Where is he? I love Barnaby.

The Good Lady smiled dreamily at the thought of our neighbour's big black cat who in all fairness was a handsome friendly big bastard beloved by all.

No, not fucking Barnaby. The black stuff! The good stuff, you know. The bamboo!

This time I succeeded in yanking her out of the house and I continued to tug her up the garden toward the back fence where our bad neighbours bordered with us.

It can't be back. It died, remember?

The Good Lady sounded a little fearful as if I was about to pull out a blood sausage, waggle it about and tell her the Deep Ones needed her soul.

It did die! It did, but it is back baby! Black is back!

I was fizzing with excitement and tugged at her to come faster which is something she is rarely willing to do and this time was no exception.

Are you sure it is back? I mean, it was totally dead. You cut it down. You have all the canes still in the garage?

As we neared the back fence she sounded more and more distrusting and well she might. It wouldn't have been the first time I had attempted to get her up the back bit.

Yep, cut the fucker down but you know what they say, black is the new black, baby!

I stopped near the back fence and pointed.

I don't see it?

She murmured softly as if fearful that Ole Bright Eye would pounce on her unawares and tell her she smelled of biscuits.

There! Behind the gold stuff.

I knew I was hitting her with far too many colours for one day but it was the only descriptive words I had. I teased the Golden Bamboo to the side which I had planted to replace the black bamboo which had flowered and died. A black event indeed.

Oh god, you are right. Wait, are there three of them?

The Good Lady poked a finger hesitantly out at the good black shit which was sprouting bounteously forth.

Yes, there are three new bamboos.

I shook my head in wonder.

Truly this is proof that Jesus was black.

I bowed my head slightly in reverence at this new Easter.

The Good Lady made a flubbering noise with her lips and started walking away.

Sometimes, you are a pure weirdo.

She snarked as she retreated back to the house.

I sighed happily.

She was right of course.