You wouldn’t know – I didn’t tell you – that I’ve been fostering a rather reluctant youngster for around four weeks now. Well I know that there are no guarantees about these things – you sort of take pot luck – but I must admit that I’ve been quite disappointed, worried even. You see at first she was a bright young thing and full of the joys of spring, so much so that I used to think of her as Blossom or Jazzy… She hasn’t been “jazzy” since that first week, far from it.

Luckily, I did “A Level Psychology” years ago, and now, with my newfound interest in philosophy as well, I have been trying to fathom the problem with my charge in the hope that I may be able to help. Unlike me – I’m an extroverted introvert (well you must speak if you want anyone to listen) – I came to the conclusion that Jazzy is an introverted extrovert, meaning that something has been preventing her from showing her natural colours. I just hoped it wasn’t me! I worried she was feeling “in the shade” although it has to be said that the neighbours were green with envy (if not ivy); but she’s not been doing so bloomin’ well since that first week – talk about shrinking violets and wallflowers!

A few minutes ago I went out to see Jasmine, thinking that perhaps she’s like me in the respect that I love the sun; I’d move her from the shaded wall up to the sunny balcony, and then I noticed something wonderful. Little pink buds are dotted all over her – she has nestled in and has decided to bloom again. It appears I can’t be such a failure as a foster mother after all even though we’re quite unalike.