The Garden Visit

I was let out from my office yesterday and went on a garden visit to Docwras Manor: a lovely garden: not immaculate enough to be depressing, but with enough interesting plants to make it a garden where you didn't quite know where to look first. I went with a local flower arranging club - I cannot arrange flowers to save my life, bunging a few things in a vase and hoping being more my style, but I have friends who are brilliant at this arcane art, and they invited me along.

So, the Flower Club outing, you would have thought, would have been a staid thing, filled with the middle aged. Filled with the middle aged it was. We went in a coach (having always been sniffy about coaches, I have now come to love them - so lovely not being the parental taxi service and able to see what passes) and were told firmly by our leader to be back at 9.15. Well, 9.15 came and went, and several of our number were not there. They carried on not being there.

They must be still in the garden, we thought, too entranced by the plants to leave. They weren't. So, the coach driver started up and drove a couple of hundred yards down the road and stopped outside the pub. She hooted the horn, and out came our lost sheep. I did wonder whether they'd set foot inside the garden at all...


Unknown said…
I love the description of the garden as 'not immaculate enough to be depressing'. I know exectly what you mean.

I wonder how many of the coach party were wishing they'd thought to nip to the pub ?

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