There are two big garden centres near here, one of which I
can see across the valley from my house. I dislike garden centres. They appeal
to a gardening mentality that I would have to categorise generally as ‘suburban.’
It’s all about neatness, tidiness, opulence and artificiality. They have
grandiose displays of fancy flagging, decking, artificial stone water features
and expensive garden furniture. And worst of all (shudder) they sell plastic
robins and nesting blackbirds fixed to the top of plastic poles which people
stick in the soil. Why not have plastic soil, too, so you don't get troubled by weeds? Hideous, hideous, hideous...
But that’s just my opinion. My approach to the value of
gardens is simple. I like the lawn to be green, the fruit and vegetables to
crop, and the flowers to be colourful. And I like an inexpensive chair to sit
on and an inexpensive table on which I can rest my plate, cup or glass of beer
on a warm summer’s evening. Which is what I’ve got.
* * *
On a completely unrelated note, I had a rare treat today. The
Dowager Duchess of Mill Lane
(that’s M’Lady Bella’s mama for those who haven’t been keeping up with the
soap) came past me in a car. She smiled and waved. Her smile is as lovely as
Sarah’s, so she made a half decent substitute for the real thing.
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