Yesterday afternoon, we went to the nearest garden centre. It might come off as surprising to my readers, as I am a terrible gardener, for one, and there are more exciting ways to spend a Sunday afternoon. But it was actually inspired. My wife was afraid that Wolfie might get bored and therefore difficult. He was enthusiastic. I think he received quite a lot of gardening classes at school recently, as a way to teaching the children about insects, environment and so on. So he wanted to buy everything in there and the most trivial thing was a great artifact for him. We didn't buy nearly as much as he wanted. This reminded me of my own childhood, when my father also liked to spend his Sundays in a garden centre and often dragged us there. But nowadays, gaden centres have more than just seed, soil and gardening tools. In the one we went to, there is a books section, a section for garden furniture, one for local products, etc. It's like a small local shopping centre, but with far less people, plenty of space and much quieter. We might turn it into a Sunday tradition. Not that I want to go every Sunday, just from time to time.
Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
I love garden centres! They are especially fun when they are stocked for holidays like Halloween and Christmas!
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