Birthday parties for grandchildren and adults, over grown gardens, perennials waiting to have their dead heads chopped off, all call out for attention and demand on our time. Writing of myself, I have an "ennui" that is hard to shake off, a feeling of the finish of the year and a waiting for the next exciting times in the garden. I look forward to Autumn time when the gardens say to me, "Now we will show you our brilliance, then we will go to sleep for a few weeks but first give you delight in the wonderful show of Autumn colours, neatly pruned shrubs and dead headed perennials." A few repeat roses trying hard with their second flowering, must be satisfied to take back stage but I am grateful for the few blooms to place in the vases in the sitting room. Last weekend, in the country garden, we were visited by more than fifty people. I was asked to give a little talk before they set off around the many garden paths. I refrained from the deadly sin of telling them they were visiting the garden at the most uninteresting time but did implore them to visit again in the Spring time! After all, you would not like introducing your children when they were suffering from measles, would you? But the day did not finish without giving me a lesson. Half way through my address, the telephone rang. Apparently one of the members of the club had taken a wrong turn and got bogged. Kees went off and I finished my talk. I went into the kitchen to see that the newcomer received a refreshing cup of tea after her ordeal, the other visitors having already had their refreshments. After quite a while, I was introduced to the lady - not only a Lady but a real Princess! No, not Princess Mary of Denmark [Yes, she is a Tasmanian] but with the high cheek bones, beautiful skin, wonderful jewellery, trousers and shirt, sensible walking shoes, this woman was very much a lady of high birth. Over a cup of tea we chatted for quite a while. "A kindly farmer came with a tractor and hauled me and the car out of the ditch. So stupid of me to not follow the directions" I was first told. I suggested we go out to the verandah room to have a cup of tea. "Why? This is a perfectly good kitchen!" was the reply. So we sat down at the little wooden kitchen table and chatted. At the end of our lengthy chat, I told her that I was quite worried that she had been hurt as it had been quite a while before she came to the house.
 |
 |
 |
Go To Page: 1 2
| Here's the follow-up discussion on this article: | View all related messages |
For a complete listing of article comments, questions, and other discussions related to Gay Klok's Tasmanian Gardening topic, please visit the Discussions page.