Around The Garden.

I set the garden up first thing before the crow dropped feathers and the frogs sang. Tables, chairs, chests of drawers. Grandad’s binoculars and his upright teatime chair, the one with a wooden hinged cup tray at the arm. I piled and propped things to replicate rooms; polished and loved them one last time. I could almost hear them; Popa and Mama … discussing how this was; as needs must. By the time Chorley arrived with the mail, the lawn was an outdoor house. Trestle’s replicated the kitchen, displaying the silver with the willow- patterned service piled high. Sun crept between the Ash and sparkled the Copper kettles and pans. Grandma’s embroidery samplers, linens and her handmade lace filled the aged trousseau box, beside the Chaise longue … under the Apple tree. A copper slipper-bath nestled next to the herb garden. Laundered towels I draped on the oak airer; besides the pond.

By half-past three all was sold … except for the large mirror Mama used in her dressing room when I was three. It reflected more than Stupley’s walled garden. Memories of ball gowns, pirouettes and tiara’s, stopped me from accepting a bid. Satisfied, I took a last look around.

My stream of consciousness began with a word containing round and ended with it also as the prompt suggested. Thanks again Linda Hill for the opportunity. Press “HERE” to join the fun or read some wonderful posts.

Let me know what you think! I am thick skinned and love to chat. 😉

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25 thoughts on “Around The Garden.

  1. Your post is very well done, Ellen. I enjoy reading it. I had a garage sale several times years ago. Now I don’t have enough to sell that worth sitting out all day. There are charity organizations and “second hand” stores that take donations to sell them at low prices. I mostly give away things these days.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. As I sort through all the things that belonged to my parents, I will now think of them as part of a garden and throwing things away can be like weeding the garden. The estate sale can be like sending flowers out into the world. I think I will enjoy it more this way. It’s not clutter. It’s not junk. Its a garden of memories.

    Liked by 1 person

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