The School Bus Driver Calls

Yesterday morning Mrs Duncan came down the deck with heavy tread.  Well, actually, you don't have to have a heavy tread.  If you are wearing shoes anyone walking along the deck sounds heavy.  Anyway there was Mrs Duncan, the school bus driver, at the door bearing flowers.  "Odd" I thought "Why would Mrs Duncan be bringing me flowers?"  And that was exactly the same thing that the children wondered.  I managed to keep them wondering for most of the day and evening until, when we were having dinner (I catered for the family on Wednesday), Wendy who was not, of course, likely to take anything in this world for granted, read the card and broadcast the results.

In actual fact Mrs Duncan, in addition to driving the bus, delivers flowers for some of the local florists.  Mystery solved.

The flowers are magnificent and now stand on my table in a vase most suited to them.  The scent they are throwing into the room this evening now all the doors are shut for the night is strong and heady and redolent of long summer evenings.  Which is just as well given that that's what it's like here.

 

 

In actual fact the flowers were a gift from Friend Who Knows Too Much  and who, therefore, knows that I love flowers.  I know that she'll be having a wonderful Christmas with Airplane Mad Partner  (He's actually even more mad about a particular football team but tif I mentioned that it would give the game away) and Daughter Who  Loves Horses and Very Artistic Daughter (who sends me the most outrageous Christmas and Birthday cards showing little respect for my grand age).  They are all in England at the moment and, in contrast, to our midsummer they were making a snow bear as I received the delivery.