Mr Green, an elderly neighbour of ours in England, had a wonderful greenhouse. I always thought his name was "Mr Green" because he had a greenhouse with green plants in it, and his house was painted with a green trim, too. Mr Green wasn't over protective over his greenhouse, as some are; on the contrary, every time his grand-daughter, Kathleen from London, came to stay, he would allow us to play in his greenhouse, especially when it was raining or cold, as it was always the same, warm temperature inside.
Mr Green was so kind and generous in many ways. He would serve us treats and arrange them so prettily on a blue and white plate. Naturally, we shared our feasts with our dollies. They, too, appreciated Mr Green's thoughtfulness.
When the weather was fine, or the greenhouse became too hot, we would play in the garden, which was like an adventure playground, without the apparatus. Our form of entertainment was hiding in all the little nooks that Mr Green had created with his gardening knowledge and skills. Our favourite outdoor area was the goldfish pond. We would lie flat on our bellies, heads dangling over the edge, looking at our (often distorted reflections) and watch the life in the pond. As long as we didn't 'touch' anything in the pond, we were allowed to lie there as long as we would like...
Mr Green's house was furnished with cobblestones, leather seating, lots of pictues in gilt frames and oakwood furniture. His kitchen was clean and scrubbed and had the fragrance of Sunlight soap. Although a widower, his clothes were always clean and well pressed, the little hair he had left was well groomed. His shoes were highly polished.
And... who knows why my thoughts are of Mr Green? Perhaps its because of my gardening marathon. Perhaps it's because I've been watching my reflection in the pool. Perhaps it's because I've had a recent hankering to inhale the summery fragrance of Sunlight soap of late.
Perhaps it's because I'm getting older and you know how they say that your memories revert a lot to your childhood?
Er... no.... I think I'll settle for the former list of possibilities....
Mr Green was so kind and generous in many ways. He would serve us treats and arrange them so prettily on a blue and white plate. Naturally, we shared our feasts with our dollies. They, too, appreciated Mr Green's thoughtfulness.
When the weather was fine, or the greenhouse became too hot, we would play in the garden, which was like an adventure playground, without the apparatus. Our form of entertainment was hiding in all the little nooks that Mr Green had created with his gardening knowledge and skills. Our favourite outdoor area was the goldfish pond. We would lie flat on our bellies, heads dangling over the edge, looking at our (often distorted reflections) and watch the life in the pond. As long as we didn't 'touch' anything in the pond, we were allowed to lie there as long as we would like...
Mr Green's house was furnished with cobblestones, leather seating, lots of pictues in gilt frames and oakwood furniture. His kitchen was clean and scrubbed and had the fragrance of Sunlight soap. Although a widower, his clothes were always clean and well pressed, the little hair he had left was well groomed. His shoes were highly polished.
And... who knows why my thoughts are of Mr Green? Perhaps its because of my gardening marathon. Perhaps it's because I've been watching my reflection in the pool. Perhaps it's because I've had a recent hankering to inhale the summery fragrance of Sunlight soap of late.
Perhaps it's because I'm getting older and you know how they say that your memories revert a lot to your childhood?
Er... no.... I think I'll settle for the former list of possibilities....
1 comment:
Thanks for visiting me- I'm having a wander around your site and there's so much to see.
How I've always wanted a greenhouse or maybe what I want is a conservatory- large enough to sit in and perhaps- invite some guests.
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