Gone Gun

 

Flowers

 One of my little jobs as convenor of the committee for Fun and Frolics is to be in charge of the flower rota. It's a Quaker custom- though I doubt it was initiated by our puritan forefathers and foremothers- that there should be flowers in the Meeting room on a Sunday- not lavish arrangements, or not necessarily lavish- but a little pot plant or a few daffodils in water for people to fix on in meditation if they so choose. I put up a notice asking for voluntary gifts and if people write their names in the slots underneath I can relax and if they don't I'll pop up to the florists on South Street on a Thursday and buy something myself- as I did yesterday.  I like flowers to be growing, not cut- so I favour things with bulbs and roots. Yesterday I bought some straightforward hyacinths and some minari- which have delicate little plale blue flowers arranged in a spike and- from their scent- appear to be a type of hyacinth too. It's now my plan and plot to gradually fill the Meeting House with flora.

Three days ago I saw my first daffodil of the season- blooming in a sheltered nook of a neighbour's front garden. Our own daffodils and narcissi are not going to be far behind.