mystic meg's day in the plant centre

Since I started the blog it has always been written on the day.  Length and quality have been variable, but it has been a real-time response to my life and times in north east Essex.  Today (at the time of posting or the day after tomorrow at the time of writing) I have to be at work by 8.00am, and we have friends arriving for supper at 7.00pm, by which time I need to have scrubbed the compost out from under my fingernails (mostly).  Even with the S.A. doing the cooking, there is not going to be time to write a blog entry.

Here, then, are my predictions for Sunday:

I will water my trousers

Somebody will want to use an American Express card.

Somebody will want to use National Gardens Tokens.

Somebody will want free entry to the garden because they are an RHS member and will be sniffy when told the concession doesn’t apply on Sundays.  They may say that it doesn’t say so in the RHS handbook.  It does.

Somebody will leave their glasses/notebook/umbrella/sunhat behind.

Somebody will ring in a panic because they can’t find their wallet/purse, and we are the last place they can remember having it.  We will search for it and not find it, and advise them to look under the seat of their car.

The dog will abscond.

We will run out of pound coins.

Several people will be utterly baffled by the coffee machine and unable to see the sugar, milk and stirrers, which are right in front of them.

Somebody will want us to identify a plant from a description only, which is that it had red flowers and they don’t know whether it was evergreen or deciduous.

Somebody will manage to find an item of stock that doesn’t have a price marked on it, and want to buy it.  There will be no other similar item with a price.

My telephone, having worked perfectly well for the first part of the morning, will mysteriously stop allowing me to make outgoing calls for two hours, then start working again.
My colleague from The Other Side will come in to check the watering so that it is perfect for the manager's return, thereby confirming that she believes the rest of us are not to be trusted with plants.  (This is not a psychic prediction.  She has told us she is coming in).