I had a nice walk to the petrol station today. “Why?” I hear you ask “Have you succumbed to your pyromaniacal urges once more?”. No, that is firmly in the past. The answer is quite simple. Waiting there just for me, with my name on the paper wrapping, was a bunch of sweet peas.
These peas, along with a welcome mauve nigella and deepest blue larkspur, were grown by my friend Pat the Field. Times are tough for flower growers at the moment; weddings cancelled, farmers markets no-more, florists closed. Being a fine ‘make do and mend’ woman, Pat is selling her wares at the local petrol station, where I doubt they will linger long. Her flowers are grown a couple of miles up the road, organically and with love. It makes all the difference.
After an interesting walk back up the hill, battling a roaring gale, I managed to get them home without one flower head loss. Now they are in our front room, doing a fine job of decorating and scenting the room. By the way, before any derogatory comments, flower arranging is not my forte. I am a graduate of the Bung It In school of floristry.
If you see locally grown flowers, please buy them, support our growers. And yes, that is an order!