While walking in a park yesterday, my little nest of vipers spotted a flower and excitedly asked me what it was. Asked me? Me, wot knows a daffodil and there ends the lesson.
I said I had no idea but I could take a photograph of it.
”Then what? Print it out and pin it in garden? When rain come, paper will go gooey. ” She replied with that ‘what a sad man’ look.
”I was thinking we could then go to a garden shop and see if we can find it.”
This, she grudgingly agreed, wasn’t too shabby an idea.
Thus I whipped out my phone and snapped a shot. Having taken a reasonably good close-up of my nose, I found the camera reverse thingy and snapped the flower.
Today we hit the shops and it quickly became apparent that looking at labels would require a regroup arming ourselves with food, a camping stove and sleeping bags. It was then that I spotted a gentleman wearing the apparel of the garden shop so I approached him, showed him the picture and enquired if he knew what it was.
”Calling upon my many years of experience I’d say that looks remarkably like a nose.” Came the confident reply.
”Ah, sorry, wrong photo. How about this then?”
”Right. That would be what us horticulturists are wont to call a flower.” He replied with great authority.
”Well, that clears up one mystery.” I responded.
”And that mystery would be?” He asked, warming to the game.
”Why, when I showed the photo to the guy in the bookshop, he suggested I should try a garden shop.”
”How true. Each to their own as they say, eh?”
“Anyhoo, thank you good hauty-whatsit person and I’ll pass on your invaluable information to my good lady and I’m sure she’ll be popping over to thank you personally and possibly knee you in the groin.”
After all the merry banter it all ended happily for her indoors with the horticulturist bent double in tears, the desired shrub located, purchased, a hole dug, shrub stuffed in and watered. That was a couple of hours ago so please don’t expect me to remember the name of the damn thing. Oh, wait! It’s a flower, right?
Quote; Jerry Seinfeld.
"I have no plants in my house. They won't live for me. Some of them don't even wait to die, they commit suicide."
3 comments:
Some people remember the names of flowers and some don't. We don't even though we've spent decades buying plants from garden centres. We keep the labels in a drawer but then we forget which label went with which plant.
My mum knew all the names. She's say things like "the mesembryanthemums are nice this year." My wife and I would quietly snigger and agree with her, but we never did know what mesembryanthemums are.
Agreed, A K Haart. But I do remember trying to teach my four year old son (who is now on the brink of entering his fifth decade) about Digitalis if only to hear his wonderful lisp all those years ago.
A K Haart, Caratacus,
After reading your comments I concentrated really hard and after getting past the little bluebird that flutters around in my head, I realised that I can recognise more that one flower. However, I’m not a hundred percent sure if grass is classed as a flower.
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