I’m afraid I am officially turning into a very old person. My visit to B&Q yesterday was reprised today and things got even worse when I was reluctantly dragged along to a garden centre. On a beautifully, sunny autumnal day, where else would you rather be? Answer: anywhere.
All I need to do to confirm my descent into old age is to adopt the appropriate clothing. This will necessitate the acquisition of smartly pressed slacks, sandals, a collar and tie, a nice, cosy cardigan and of course a flat cap which I shall wear only when driving.
As with B&Q, I simply cannot see the attraction of garden centres. Both places are full of things I am not interested in, a good number of which require self-assembly. We do have tropical fish, but I am of the view that once you have seen one tropical fish you have seen them all. There are some real bizarre things, too. Books you would never seen anywhere else, about steam engines and astrology were examples today, as well as large pieces of rock with “in memorium” type words on them, rather like gravestones. As befits a garden centre, there are vast numbers of plants too. I’d like to tell you what types, but I rather lost the will to live by the time we reached the till several days later (well, it felt like several days later).
There is always a cafe too and the main attraction for people is always cake. As I walked past, I observed numerous “senior citizens” struggling back to their tables with pots of tea and industrial-sized slices of the most fattening cake money can buy! I was almost tempted, I must say, but I might leave it until I am even older and, like many of today’s customers, given up the ghost of trying to prevent an ever expanding girth.
I can only compare my feelings as I left to how you are when you have not slept properly for a couple of days. I felt like I was looking through a fog, walking through treacle, struggling to string two words together. It was an utterly mind numbing experience.
We got what we wanted, though. Some of the finest compost money can buy and some horticultural grit (no, I’ve never heard it, either), as well as some flower bulbs. I can barely contain my excitement.
That’s today sorted. Tonight I’m off to the bingo after half an hour on the treadmill, followed by a bit of line-dancing. That’s what us old people are supposed to do, isn’t it?
