Flowery Confessions.

Early morning reflections.

It has been two days now since I finished my watering duties. As I told you, I was rather thrilled that on my watch they didn't face premature demise even though a few of the flower beds are stocked with what I like to call funeral fodder. Dull Marigolds. Not the flowers fault and apart from taking off their wilted heads I treated them with the same care as the more attractive preppy colourful ones. Bright reds, pinks and whites.

These last two mornings I have made sure my walk begins or ends at these flower beds. For nostalgia if nothing else. Funny how in my mind I inspect every flower there and try and see if the next person on the roster has been as diligent as me. Of course they have as Eisenbergers seem to all have been born with green thumbs.

If there weren't so many prying eyes I could quite easily go and have a closer look at my flowers and tut tut about any hurt, wilted or missing one. Not to make you cringe but if Prince Charles can talk to plants, why can't I? Naturally my previous chat with them during my roster week went along the lines of;

" Please, please, please don't die on my shift. I couldn't live with the sideways glances. "

Looking after flowers is no big deal around here apart from the schlepp of it. Regardless, I would have been chuffed to have received a nod of thanks, a quick ' well done, they made it through ' or a smile of acknowledgement....Ah, how often one forgets the power of those two simple words...Thank. You.

Biggi