Dreams can come true, even if the way they come true are a little unorthodox.
I see you have noticed how beautiful my garden is. You want to know if I have done it all myself, - I wish, no, it's all the work of my gardeners. You would like their name? That's a little more difficult. Come here and sit down on the chair next to me, pour yourself a cold drink and let me tell you a story of what happened last summer.
I was sitting in my back garden watching the weeds waving in the breeze when the wind started to gust, tugging at my washing, making it dance, pegged to the line. A warm sunny day and I had been enjoying the sunshine, sitting on my chair with a glass of icy ginger beer. I like to watch washing dry on the line, to see it flap, clean and smelling of the world outside, knowing that when I carry it in, it will fall warm against my cheek and that I will bury my face into it, smelling the fresh clean odour of a summers day.
The only thing wrong with that, is that it means I have to go into the garden. That doesn't sound bad, now, does it?. But I couldn't keep the garden under control then, and so going into the garden had become more like an adventure than an easy task. First there was the grass – should grass grow that long?, and then the weeds. I know they are only wild flowers in the wrong place, but mine were never the pretty ones. Docks and plantains vied for space amongst the grasses, not the daisies and dandelions and clovers sweet with honey flavour enjoyed by other non-gardeners. I used to have to squint to see the good things like the butterflies and bees, birds and the sunshine, while not noticing the ugly. And yet I could still sit out there and enjoy the warmth after the cold of winter and the wet of spring.
That day the wind blew up and got more fierce, and there was a loud noise, like the whine of a firework just before the bang. I looked around me and saw something land at the top of the garden, in the overgrown hedge. I went up the path to see what was there, putting down the drink, taking up my stick, and picking my way carefully up the path. To my amazement the firework was like nothing I had ever seen before. In fact it looked like a child's toy, a spaceship with some clearly visible writing on the side, dark green against the shiny silver.
Greene's Mobile Garden Services
I read on one side, while the other sported the words,
Dream a Little Dream
I was just reaching forwards to pick it up when I heard a thud, and then a crack appeared in the side of the spaceship. To my surprise a little door popped open and a ramp slid down to the ground. As I watched a small robot, about one foot high rolled out and holding a megaphone looked straight up at me. starting to speak in a monotone highpitched voice.
“Hello, Is that Mrs Elisabeth Phillips?”
“Yes,” I replied, too surprised to do anything else.
“Good ” he continued, “ We have received a dream from this vicinity and wish to check that it belongs to you. Said dream consists having a beautiful garden, is that correct and belonging to you only? ”
“Well yes, I suppose so.” I was amazed, how could this little robot know I had just been thinking those very thoughts. Planning in my head what I would do with the garden if I could.
“ And to confirm – said garden would be a wildlife garden, free from chemicals and providing a home for birds and bees and other creepy crawlies? ”
Now I was speechless, - how could he know? I had told no one, not even the neighbours, because I knew they would think me mad. They offered to come help me with my garden, but looking at their sterile patches of parched cropped lawn I had shuddered inwardly and declined.
“Ah, yes, how...” I began, but was stalled in my attempt by what happened next. The little robot shook the megaphone and blew through it, It rang like a bell, but just in my head, and he rolled down the ramp, descending into my hedge bowing at another robot following him. This robot looked quite different, it had feet and arms and looked very like a person, if only a one foot short person. It was holding a long piece of paper and a pen that it offered to me.
“We are Greene's Mobile Gardening Services, and we are authorised to offer you a contract on our garden design and maintenance service on the following conditions. Firstly this is one of our 'Dream' contracts, and as such you must promise to employ no other gardener or we will have to leave. Secondly you must accept a design drawn up with us that will be wildlife friendly with no chemicals to kill weeds or insects. Thirdly, you must allow us to park our transport vehicle in your hedge so we can have access. Do you agree to this?”
Well, what could I say, it was certainly not the usual way to choose a gardener, but they were offering me exactly what I had been dreaming of, after all, so before I could change my mind, I told him yes and signed on the dotted line.
You can't tell me it was the wrong thing to do, just look at my beautiful garden now, full of flowers and sunshine, I sit out here for hours in the warm weather, and when it's wet I can watch the birds from my window. It's even better now I have Browne's House Maintenance Service to help me with the indoors. So I'm afraid I can't tell you how to contact my gardener, you'll just have to dream your own dream too.
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