Last year the roads down to Varen needed work and the sides of the road needing shoring up. Tons of pebbles and ''gravier'' were tipped along the edges. Then an amazing and wonderful thing happened. The most beautiful poppies, not the normal red ones but purple / lilac absolute beauties appeared in a line along the edge in the gravel. Every visitor mentioned them, our brother in law went down and sat and painted them, with beautiful results shown. But readers this story turned into a dastardly one. We had already discussed picking a few poppy heads for the seeds when they had matured and we also mentioned this to a French lady who lives down the road, who also said she wanted seeds. Getting near the time when the poppies could have been ready but in my experience still a little early, what happened, every head vanished and we are talking here hundreds of heads, snipped off nothing but stalks left. I stood there aghast and said but I would have only taken a dozen, not them all. Worse I could imagine the wizened old crone sitting cackling with them in her basket [ I am not over keen on this woman ] '' none of these beauties for those rosbifs, let them find their own English poppies, cackle'' Do you get the feeling I have read too many fairy stories!
At this point my very own ''Malcolm Lion Heart ''spotted a couple of specimens down the bank in a fairly inaccessible positon. He gallantly struggled down and for those who do not know he is disabled with an artificial leg so not easy for him, he picked the last couple of poppy heads. Artist brother in law had asked for seeds to be sent to him in England but we thought they may not be any good being too early.
This year I planted the seeds and have little plants growing, if and when I get flowers you will see the picture and if anyone wants seeds I will happily give them and our special artist will certainly get some. When the old crone passes the garden in her car I will get the pleasure of seeing her gnash her teeth .Malc says she won't see over the hedge but if I get poppies I will cut a hole in the hedge.
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| Poppies by Tudor Powell |
And yes I know the War of Roses was between the houses of York and Lancaster, before I get emails!
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