We had a fairly lousy Friday; Robyn had to agree to music she didn't really want and we are having 'transport' problems which we didn't know about until it was too late to do anything about them until Monday (if we can).
I was up at hospital feeling quite ill and having another dose of chemotherapy.
After all that was over we had to struggle across town to collect our rings from the jewellers and then struggle back home.
I was exhausted and we have lots still to do.
Oh and did I mention that the plans we had to get hold of flowers went completely wrong?
So Saturday morning saw Robyn and me up at what she insists on calling "The Butt-Arsed Crack of Dawn". I had no idea what that meant until the alarm went off at 0330am.
Now I remember!
We were off well before dawn, while the moon was high in the sky and bright.
We were heading 'south of the river' to New Covent Garden at Nine Elms;
On Saturdays the market opens at 0400 am and even though we struggled to find the place amongst all the new buildings going up in the area,we were there well before 0500 am; just in time really.
It brought back lots of memories of my Smithfield Market days, only the flower people were a lot more polite and really helpful to us.
Same atmosphere though;
Lots of hustle and bustle even if the market isn't as busy as in the week.
There were lots of plants, flowers and all the stuff that goes along with it;
Plenty of these;
As well as all the blooms of the world set out before us;
Flowers from the tropics and foliage from the four corners of the globe;
We bought roses here;
We got lillies and foliage at another stall. We put them in the car and then came back for a wander and to buy some sundries.
Now all we have to do is teach ourselves a bit of floristry.
But then again, when a buttonhole is about £16 and a bouquet?
You can't imagine how much it all costs.
(a don't stop till you drop production)
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