G-Day

Today was G-Day.

Having decided that if I went, I should look respectable, I harnessed my bosom into one of those torture devices known as a brassiere and attended the Garden Club meeting this morning. I was going to wear some funky Halloween jewelry but at the last moment, decided it might be a tad early in the season so I took it off. I walked to the meeting on a soft, gray day. It looked cold and foggy outside at a quarter past nine but the temp must have been already 80 and the humidity at least 98%. It was like walking outside into a wet, wool blanket. I had to gasp for air so I was unable to mutter weather curses as I made my way across the park where our Civic Center is located.


Our Civic Center, Home of the Garden Club

Arriving at our CC which was built by the CCC during the Great Depression, I smiled at the large greenery arrangement in a pumpkin planter arranged by the door. Inside, all the lights were off with candles glowing on decorated tables of black cloths with heavy orange netting topped with witches hats, spiders, pumpkins, fall leaves and more. Darn! I should have worn the Halloween pins. We were each asked to select a colorful silk leaf to wear. I picked the biggest, brightest leaf I could find and pinned mine to my lapel but would have liked to pin it to my hair. That large orange leaf would come in handy later in the morning.

My girlfriends, active garden-clubbers, were the hostesses of the October meeting. I do think I shocked them that I actually showed up as they have been asking me for years to attend. Last time I was at a garden club meeting was over 20 years ago and I was the youngest person in the room. Today, I don't believe I can claim that distinction.

The glow of all the candles was very nice on a rather dark and dreary day. The decorations were very clever and nicely done and there was a charming autumn buffet. We all noshed and socialized. The meeting was called to order with an odd sound (wonder what it was?) and after the Pledge of Allegiance, we ladies of the club enjoyed an autumn poetry reading. No, I am not kidding, I was properly harnessed and listening and nodding to poetry before 10:00AM. I would not have been at all surprised had a lightning bolt come down and shot sparks at me or lit the bushes a-burning in the park. Flaurella, the maverick non-joiner was making polite conversation with the Garden Club Ladies.

Next on the agenda was an Herbalist guest speaker who gave a detailed talk and demonstration on growing and cooking with fresh herbs. Some of the ladies took copious notes. I didn't but I did give an approving nod here and there.

As it happened, I was picking at a piece of home-made pumpkin bread topped with bright orange pumpkin butter when the tender cake crumbled and landed on my bosom which was unusually up-right and perky thanks to being propped up and out by the engineers at Bali, making a crumb plateau that isn't usually there. As Murphy's Law would have it, the cake landed with the bright orange pumpkin butter face down making an unattractively large, orange stain on my white blouse with the thin silver and black stripes, which I might add, I had never before worn, having just removed the tags this morning as I dressed. I just knew that bright orange honey butter whipped stuff was gonna leave a mark. It did, but I was able to move my large silk maple leaf to cover the stain. Now, I was the only lady with a huge leaf smack in the center of her chest five inches above the naval but at least no one could see what a klutz I am that early in the day.

I didn't think I should throw myself into Garden Club shock by sitting there another hour or two so at the next break at 11:20, when the Ladies of the Club made a bee-line back to the buffet, I thanked the speaker and my hostesses and slipped out after two hours of brassiere wearing, chit-chatting, lady-like floral falderal. The business meeting following the frivolities should not require my presence. I can see the CC from my house and the business part of the meeting went on for well over another hour. I shall have to ease myself into this sitting around making nice-nice. About an hour and a half is my limit for being genteel and keeping my comments to myself. By two hours, my eyebrows begin to wiggle and wag uncontrollably and I am itching to make pithy comments and snide observations.

Actually, the experience wasn't too terrible and I may attend another meeting next month so I can talk turkey. I wonder what the odds are that I can convince them to have the meetings in the afternoon instead of the morning? I wonder if anyone has ever spiked the punch bowl...