One of the things I enjoy the most about being at work is when Carole goes to the garden centre for, and I quote, “a Hosta.”
Because you already know in your heart of hearts that she’s not just going to come back with a Hosta. For the past few weeks she’s been slowly smuggling new pots into the back garden, keeping them in the car until I am at work and then running them round into the garden, ready to say “This old thing?” if I draw attention to them.
And so there was no way there was just going to be a Hosta in the car today.
Firstly, she sent me a picture of a metal bird ornament thing. I could tell from the picture that it was coming home regardless, to live alongside the metal insect in a top hat, the owls and the dog that has a windmill in it. It was just going to happen.
And then a later picture was of her trolley of stuff.
She just went for a Hosta.
Just the one. She really wanted a Hosta. She loves Hostas.
Seventy pounds she spent. She has not just bought a Hosta.
There are a lot of plants. A lot. But then, there are also a lot of pots (these old things?) that need filling, so it stands to reason that she’d have to buy a load of plants.
The woman, it turns out, is an animal if you put her in a decent garden centre and give her free reign.
I think, in fact, that episodes of Ground Force had less plants delivered that Carole bought today.
Now we’ve just got to wait for it to stop raining long enough for her to get them all planted…
And then, of course, the inevitable follow-up trip because there’s a space, or something doesn’t go with something else.
They never, ever cover this stuff off on Gardener’s World.