Do you remember learning to make daisy chains? I remember trying to split the stem with hot fingers that felt far too clumsy for the task, the daisy getting shorter and shorter as each attempt just ripped a green string off the side. And of course the hunt for the tallest daisies with the thickest stems just to try to make it work.
You’d try and try and try and finish lunchtime with grass stained knees, a green rim to your thumb and a couple of daisies holding together by a whisker that would have wilted by home time, all floppy and squished in the bottom of your satchel. But little by little you’d get it, and by the time I left to go across the road to the senior school I could rattle off a daisy chain with even the spindliest specimens. And now it’s time to pass the knowledge on.
Kitty’s still at the pulling the daisies apart stage and I can see her frustration as she tries to make it work, and then gives up and tips a bunch of daisies into my lap for me to add to my chain.
She will get it soon but for now we’re a team, she picks the flowers and I thread them up and then, in a piece de resistance learnt through the years of post lunch playtime on the grass in junior school, turn them into a crown.
Daisy chain crowns, as old as the hills, and I suspect just as much fun now as they ever were.
And a reminder, not that we ever really need one, that for all the fun bits and pieces we have in our garden in the way of swings and slides and mini trampolines (and however much I’m hankering after a big trampoline even though we don’t really have the space for it), all we really need is for H to be too busy to cut the grass for a couple of weeks.