Her excitement would far outweigh the expence of the gift. Years later, when she was living in Southern California I would tell her over the telephone when the snowdrops had appeared. I remember one year in particular when I mentined I had just purchased a bunch from a barrow in Oxford Street, hearing Jan burst into tears. She was very homesick at the time and unwittingly I had triggered a memory that she held close to her heart. Soon now, on gentle days, we'll be able to walk along the country lanes of West Sussex and see snowdrops, primroses and in one southern-facing corner of the big meadow a mass of bright yellow aconites, spread out like a baby's blanket.
Preparation is the name of the game.
Gardening is not for me these days, I'm afraid. Only in spirit now. Younger, stronger limbs than mine look after my garden.