The Spring Event of the Year

Hello everyone. We are back in town again.....me, myself and I, safely ensconced in the little cottage and my good husband just across the road, being wonderfully cared for by the lovely hospital staff. Yes, he has had his operation and is looking remarkably well considering it was only last Monday he underwent major surgery. Honestly, he is an amazing man with the best attitude to life. The surgery went well but as to what we face next is dependent upon the pathology results.

So.......because I haven't anything of the stitching kind to wax lyrical about (though I have been faithfully stitching my hexie quilt whilst sitting with my husband and keeping him company),  I thought I might tell you about a local flower show my good husband and I visited a couple of weeks ago. Now a word of caution here; I have donned my naughty hat for this little recount as I am in the mood for a little drollness...a little jocosity!

This little flower show we visited was advertised by the newspaper  as the "Spring Social Event of the Year", well anyway at least in the North East of Tasmania. It was the place to be for all those green fingered types who have been lovingly tending their Spring gardens in hope of growing the perfect bloom. It was the social event of the season for all those who were anticipating to clasp a pretty coloured ribbon (preferably blue)......or two, and be rewarded for their horticulture par excellence; and of course not to mention the filling of their pockets with the measly equitable monetary prize!!

Upon reading this advertisement, the motion picture tape of my mind. humorously rewound back a few years, to the first time we visited "The North East Event of the Year"!! It was a warm autumnal day; we had just arrived from Sydney (we had only been living in this far rural outpost for a couple of weeks) and as we were up for a bit of people meet and greet and my good husband wanted to investigate the botanical delights peculiar to this far rural outpost, we moseyed along.

(Sshhhh now.......what I am going to tell you might well precipitate  a trowel in my ribs or perhaps a spade finding it's mark on my cranium. One never can tell just who is watching and listening......one has to be a wee bit careful.)

The rewinding of the metaphorical tape continues...............With great expectations of what lay behind those cobwebby doors, we crossed the threshold of the "Event of the Year", but alas...............our progress was thwarted. Before us stood a dear old soul (well I thought she was, alas, my summation of this dear old soul quickly evaporated).

"Stop" she cried! "Hello", I excitedly greeted her, "we have come to visit your flower show, it's been haled as the place to be seen," inwardly smiling at my reply. I am afraid my facetiousness can at times get the better of me. "You can't come in, you are too early!" stated Fraulein Hitler. "Really," I queried, "but it is ten minutes to ten."

Now you must, must forgive me at this juncture with the naming of this dear old soul with a name that sends shivers up anyone's spine but honestly, a picture did begin to form in my mind's eye of  a female version of Herr Hitler. If only she was holding a revolver pitchfork my imaginative depiction would have been complete. I do confess, I failed to read the small print regarding the opening times......I had left my glasses at home.....so was completely unaware that this little shindig opened at 10.00am, and was a little taken aback by what unfolded.

"I have money" I stated hesitantly. "I don't care if you have money, you can't come in; you are ten minutes early" expostulated Fraulein Hitler, barrelling the doorway. "Really?? But seeing as we are already here, can't we perhaps quickly come in??" I pleaded. "I promise we won't be a bother.....we will just inconspicuously meld into the floral display!!!!!" Now I did look into her eyes to see if perhaps there was a glimmer of amusement at my waggishness, but alas, there was none. "No," she interrupted..........."where do you hale from?" she asked. To which I replied..."Sydney". Now the absurdity of  my reply completely whooshed over her head swirling round and round into a comical drawing of a bloated, belly laugh. At this stage both my good husband and I began to tremble with inward laughter. I mean really, did Fraulein Hitler this dear old soul really imagine my good husband and I, had left Sydney, driving through two states, embarking on the "Spirit of Tasmania" to sail across the pond with the intention of visiting "The Event of the Year"??  Although this Flower Show was haled as "The Event of the Year" in this far rural outpost on the social calendar......believe you me.....The Chelsea Flower it was not!!

My husband and I who at this stage could hardly stand up for the percolating giggles that were beginning to escape, quickly exited The North East Flower Show....."The Event of the Year" and went and sat in our jalopy for ten minutes, trying to regain some semblance of control, and waited for the 'town crier' to publicly declare  The North East Flower Show open, flinging it's doors and hospitality wide open to the madding crowds the genteel folk!!!

I must say when we once again tentatively crossed the threshold of the Flower Show at one minute past ten o'clock, Fraulein Hitler had lost all her prickly-ness, that veiled look of malice in her eyes; and had donned an attitude and demeanor of a dear old soul!!

We quickly circumnavigated the hall (it took about 10 minutes) and oohed and aahed over one Dahlia in a vase.......two Dahlias in a vase......one rose in a vase, two roses in a vase........one wilted Gladioli in a vase. Indeed, Dame Edna Everage would have need of her smelling salts if her cat-eyed glasses caught a glimpse of this specimen of her fave flower, gasping for it's last breath. The list of single stems of the flower kingdom in a specimen vase goes on and on!! Obviously the workings and judging of a good flower show thoroughly escapes my pea brain!!

Aaah yes.......that day was just too, too funny. A story that I have filed away in the dark chambers of my brain pan under the heading "Humorous but Naughty"!!!!!! I might add, this recount is a correct recollection of the events.....though I might from time to time, sprinkle the story with just a wee bit of embellishing.....it is basically gospel......I tell no lie!

Anyway, with our first introduction to that Flower Show many moons ago but a distant memory, I quickly fast forward to present day and again had a bo peep of what the green fingered populace of this far rural outpost had been cultivating lately.

As Spring had only just begun to spring at the time of the flower show, there wasn't the variety of the flower kingdom that one might see at the Autumn Show. Yes the flower show is a bi-annual event. There were oodles of pretty daffodils of many species. I only have a few species of daffodils in my garden so I was pleasantly surprised to see the variety of daffodils on display. I made a mental note of what daffodils I would love to plant next year.

Some pretty Fritillaries. I just might have to get some of these. I love the chequered pattern on these nodding, bell-shaped flowers.

There were Camellias, Pansies, Waratahs, Lilies and other pretty flowers. Just between you and me I much prefer the Autumn show where Hydrangeas, Gladioli, Liliums, Roses, Dahlias are the main stars of the day. There is a gentleman around these parts who grows the most amazing Dahlias and Gladioli and of course always goes home with a wheel barrow of prizes.

This was my favourite plant....I would have liked to have whipped this under my arm and head for dem dar hills!

I really liked this delicate flower. I'm not sure what it is.

Camellias weren't quite as abundant as the Daffodils.

One of the mums of one of my clever stitching girls won a prize for her Camellia. Lovely lady....lovely flower!

As I walked around, my 'stylist's eye' made a mental note of what I would do if I wore the Queen Bee hat of the flower committee. First of course I would sweep away the cobwebs that reached out their lacey hands, dressing me with their sticky lace as I entered the building. As beautiful as cobwebs are, I really am not enamoured at having critters of the arachnid kind, finding a new home in my coiffured locks. Oh and there are a few other things that could add a little sparkle, a little savoire faire to this social calendar event of the year. But of course....one cannot diplomatically suggest little changes....it just isn't done......at least not if one likes to live a little longer in this lovely far rural outpost......and I do!!

I rest my case. Bunting please........beautiful pots of flowers please......a little pizzaz please....if nothing else, at least some colour!! Mmmm......would a brass band be overkill. =)

But....cobwebs, utilitarian tea cups and forlorn front entrances aside, there was a lovely display of what people have been growing in their gardens and of course one does have a delightful natter with every single person one has ever met in the last seven years. One enjoys a cuppa and a scone and one does have a lovely time seeing what pretties are blossoming in gardens at this time of the year and the odd exquisite vase that has been handed down from generation to generation. Though I did spy with my little beady eye, an inordinately large number of daffodils in what seemed to me, mandatory green bottles. I curtailed my wickedness in wanting to surreptitiously whip out my sling shot from my pocket and bring those green bottles down one by one.....singing a hundred ten green bottles sitting on the wall. 'Tis obvious I am no aficionado  when it comes to the display protocol and the judging of single stemmed flowers in green bottles at a flower show.

I suppose there is an edict from the higher echelon of floral societies all over the world, that any reputable garden show is all about the blooms AND most definitely not about the vessel in which they are displayed. I have been told that gardeners of repute spend hours and hours in perfecting their blooms. What would I, a shallow minded arty farty type, whose stylist's head is up in dem arty farty, fluffy, white clouds; where cherubs holding cachepots and jardinieres over-spilling with glorious floral arrangements abound, know. What would I, dreaming about pretty vases, know about such things???? Nothing really. 'Tis probably a good thing I am not a judge!! To me a beautiful bunch of flowers always looks ever so much perkier in a beautiful receptacle. Mmmm....I have just had a thought.....perhaps I could enter a display of blooms in the next flower show.

Perhaps....just perhaps I could fill some of my lovely receptacles with oodles of Irises, Lilacs, Roses and whatever other beautiful blooms are sashaying splendiforously in my garden.

Perhaps, just perhaps I could plonk a few gorgeous roses in a pretty tea cup.

.....or perhaps, some beautiful, blousy flowers which are a li'l past their best in a vintage jug.

.......or perhaps, a pitcher overspilling with Pierre de Ronsard roses....my very favourite rose.

.......or perhaps, a jug of vibrantly, splashy Dahlias.

And....about those daffodils......I much prefer their pretty, frilly, trumpet heads all jostling for space, in a jug.......so much prettier than a plebeian green bottle....don't you think.

Maybe, just maybe one of these days I will plonk lovingly place  bouquets of floralicious delight into a miscellany of pretty vases and enter them in "The North East Event of the Year"!! But....then perhaps not......I have been told the competition is fierce amongst the green fingered types.

Remember the kindly soul we first encountered when we first arrived down here at the bottom of the world, well, she kindly gave me a hug and asked me and how my good husband were faring. She really is a lovely soul. Indeed, I feel great pangs of guilt for ever having likened her to that onerous historical person.

All in all it was an enjoyable way to spend a little time and of course all monies raised at this little shindig goes to help the community....always a wonderful thing.

Just in case word should filter out and my thoughts on my very first visit to the Flower Show are not received with the humour in which I intended.....(my tongue was fixed rather firmly in my cheek as I penned this piece)....I have set my 'lioness' as keeper of the gate! Just in case there are some who would like to pay a visit to the 'sweet' lady who lives in the purpley, bluey grey abode with the bright pink, front door, that sits atop the hill; bearing gifts of cake laced with poisoning; Maisie won't let them darken by garden path.......will she????

Surely she will growl ferociously at those who happen by with a glint of malevolence in their eyes.....won't she????  Surely she will frighten them off....won't she???? She won't wag her rather unkept, furry tail (well she will persist in chasing ducks across the muddy pond)  and smother interlopers with delightful, doggy kisses......will she????

No I can rely on my trusty and faithful friend........can't I?????? That look in her eyes would send those who harbor uncharitable thoughts, plotting revenge; scurrying away........wouldn't it?????

Oh dear she simply cannot be trusted.........I guess I will just keep that bright pink, front door firmly locked!!!!

Until the next time (that is of course there is a next time)........have a wonderful week, everyone. =)