come into the garden, Maud

    I'm intrigued by these gardening references from both
    Jim & Daniel. In a completely unthinking, chauvinistic way
    I'd never associated the Yanks with green thoughts in a green
    shade. It was always an English gentlewoman in her sun hat
    & canvas gloves bent over her flower bed while, high above,
    the Spitfires etched their icy lines in the blue, Kentish sky.
    Or, indeed, my own Scots mother resolutely forking up potato
    drills during that same wartime summer.

    I can't think of a single scene from Hollywood - to which
    so many of us look for some picture of American life -
    where Clint or Jennifer or Arnie or Demi straighten up
    charmingly to stretch their backs after a wholesome hour
    in the shrubbery.

    Plenty of sprinklers playing on manicured lawns, yes,
    but little or nothing of the real thing. Was I misled?
    Are you actually all out there with trowel & watering
    can, secaturs in the holster ever ready for the quick
    dead-heading?

    Scottie B.

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Received on Mon May 26 04:14:15 2003