Whimsically Meandering..

So, there I was, enduring the Chelsea Flower show on the tele, (Mrs PP is a keen gardener and has a passion for Alan Titchmarsh, but no matter), when a particular garden designer was explaining his design.

I did find it odd that he chose to describe walking through the garden, on a path, as whimsically meandering through. Does one whimsically meander through one's garden? I have to say I don't. I stroll through the orchard from time to time en route to the summerhouse, but no meandering, whimsically or otherwise.

Pretentious twaddle if you ask me.

I tend to quite often punt authoritatively across the moat to me duck-house.

Sidle past the herbs to raid the home made in the shed.

As noted elsewhere, I haven't got a garden, just a windowbox.

I do, however, enjoy making un grand entrance down the communal stairs, then sweeping out the front door and taking up a stance, pointing the key thing at the car and announcing 'en garde'.

Peggy wrote:

As noted elsewhere, I haven't got a garden, just a windowbox.

I do, however, enjoy making un grand entrance down the communal stairs, then sweeping out the front door and taking up a stance, pointing the key thing at the car and announcing 'en garde'.

Splendid. You could be quite posh actually.

I may have to invite you to one of Mrs PP's garden parties. You'll need a new dress.

And have your hair done.

I thought whimsy was a noun not a verb, so you can't whimsically do anything. I may be wrong. Perhaps the chap in question was referring to meandering through his garden in a manner of Lord Peter Wimsy from the Dorothy L. Sayers novels?

Either way, I may or may not have whimsically (and accidentally) snapped the head off one of my sunflower sproutlings earlier today. Gardening = dangerous.

What a couple of lovely words. They send forth to me an aura of peace and tranquility. Our land is always scary, always so much to do; however, there is a lovely rose bush near one of the bars here, the scent is to die for; no matter how many men are shouting about potatoes, us ladies always have time to appreciate the scent. I suppose it's an English thing, if so worth every cent. Sorry for waxing lyrical.

I send forward a scout to rally the locals and inform the groundsmen.

Lined up either side of the street, bugle players sound their tune, a majestic song, as I make my way up through the village, showered in confetti with flowers thrown at the feet of my shirehorse.

"Upright, dignified and widely admired,
With a dedication to duty which has never retired. "

The crowds chant my name as I pass over the solid oak drawbridge. The smell of hog-roast floats pleasantly down into the village, there will be a feast tonight! Just as they think they are going to be invited in to celebrate my return, and indeed a few peasant children begin to follow me over the daunting moat of Kingsbridge Castles, I get through the entrance and signal to the doorman. He yanks at a lever, and the portcullis slams down; a tiny child skips out the way in the nick of time to avoid being skewered like a human kebab. The gardeners throw stones to clear him and others, and we raise the drawbridge.

"A model monarch happy and glorious
Hard working, indestructible long to reign over us. "

Tears to my eyes, Mock. You're on a roll this morning.

knecht wrote:

Tears to my eyes, Mock. You're on a roll this morning.

He's definitely on something.

When a young blood goes to some agricultural etc college, the first thing they are taught is there are no euros in a bit of a stroll. Whimsy is where it's at if you're going to paint a dream that you can sell to the subhurbs. Whimsy is the perfect word for a late Spring garden if you are selling something ... why .... my garden is positively wistful in the Autumn .... that'll be £1000... thank you.
There are of course some folk that will never understand the first thing about lilt ..... they're called golfers, and can be bagged for a few points quite easily as you drive from Roborough to Yelverton... you don't need to employ beaters, just flash your lights, and put your foot down.

My wife had a white cat called Whimsy. It had kittens and died, not whimsically though. I put it in the garden but after 3 days in the summer sunshine it fecking stunk so I buried it. Just thought I would share that whimsically with you all. Tis true.

Highwayman wrote:

My wife had a white cat called Whimsy. It had kittens and died, not whimsically though. I put it in the garden but after 3 days in the summer sunshine it fecking stunk so I buried it. Just thought I would share that whimsically with you all. Tis true.

So before you decided the stench was too much and buried it, was it placed amongst the rose bushes like a garden gnome?

Not quite Jock. The said pussy was placed the compost heap to await further attention but I had told my wife I had buried. If you remember I previously told you my wife is disabled and as such does not get out in the garden too much so I thought I was safe with my little white porky. The problem with that was one of my Labs (Friio) found the cat and decided to move it to the middle of the lawn, full view from kitchen window. Ironic thing is the dog took no notice of it in life but chose play with it when it was dead, stupid dog.

hippo wrote:

What a couple of lovely words. They send forth to me an aura of peace and tranquility. Our land is always scary, always so much to do; however, there is a lovely rose bush near one of the bars here, the scent is to die for; no matter how many men are shouting about potatoes, us ladies always have time to appreciate the scent. I suppose it's an English thing, if so worth every cent. Sorry for waxing lyrical.

nail on head hippo,, as a garden designer i can tell you, we use these kind of phrases alot. it sells your work to the easily led..

i didnt see said programme, as i find the cfs one big advert for what are pretty useless gardens - should be filled with food, as far as im concerned- but id guess by the description, that there were several 'rooms' in the garden and that you caught sight of one, only as you leave the last. am i right?