Exceptional A Master Gardener I'm not! The Garden Club by Janet Foor

The ladies of the garden club meet once a month at nine. They speak of plants in Latin names that I call bush and vine. The ladies of the garden club grow festive plants with flair from larkspur and delphinium to ferns like Maidenhair. Just give me daisies for a chain or tulips on the hill. A meadow filled with Queen Anne's Lace still gives my heart a thrill. So here's to you dear ladies of the grand old garden club. I've really learned so much from you but therein lies the rub. If orchids really are a weed and blue bells never ring, If there's no blood in bleeding hearts, do nettles really sting? Are dusty lambs ears made of wool? Are trumpet flow'rs in tune? Do fragrant little four o'clocks still bloom each afternoon? I hope that one day I will know as much as all of you. I'd share my blossoms, shoots and buds. For now -- I have no clue. Recognized Author Notes I was recently elected president of the local garden club where I have been a member for years. Now these ladies are experts and Master Gardeners and I'm...well let's just say that I don't have a green thumb and I'm sure very soon they are all going to figure out that I really don't have a clue. delphinium -- del-fin-ee-um

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