Photos and Stories behind them: My Kerria Japonica, Day 3

Kerria Japonica 41

As I have not been well enough to venture on a hiking crusade lately I have to be content with what my garden has to offer in the photography department. People that take walks in the countryside coughing and spluttering are not so inviting.

My Kerria Japonica is now flowering. It is one of the first to say “hello Spring is here”. There is a little story behind this bush. As well as being just a member of our local first aid group in the village, I was also on the committee, being the accountant. I must admit that accountancy was never my thing, but amongst the golden oldies of our group I was one of the few that had worked in an office and actually knew what excel was. The lady doing the accounts chose me as her successor. I said something like “I will have to see about it and let you know”, but somehow these words were forgotten and no-one asked me or told me that I was doing the job permanently.

I was keeping track of where the money was going in our group and what was entering. I did not like the job, I was warned by a certain person who had made his own experiences of taking over such responsibility. “You know you cannot make mistakes and you have to answer for every cent in the till” how right these words were. Once a year I was subjected to an audit where everything was turned over twice or three times, probably to ensure that I was not making off with a fortune by cooking the books. I must admit it mostly turned out well, but I hated the end of the year when I had to do the final accounts. This was combined with our annual Christmas party when I had to organise payments to our members for various tasks they had performed throughout the year.

Once a year we had the annual general meeting accompanied with a meal at the local restaurant and on one of these memorable occasions I was presented with a gift voucher for the local gardening centre for my efforts, at least I think that was the reason. With this voucher I bought my Kerria Japonica. I planted it in the garden, next to my blackberries and raspberries. My Kerria was not happy sharing her beauty hidden between the berries. We had a redo on the garden and I transplanted it to the edge where it has lived for the past years. My first mistake was to cut it back after it had finished flowering as the next year I was lucky to have four flowers. Now I just leave it to expand and it seems very happy.

A little more than a year ago I was in England helping my dad to move from his house to sheltered accommodation and I noticed in the area of London where he was, Dagenham, that there were many of these bushes in flower. It has become a plant that I associate with the first signs of spring.

I left our local first aid society when I retired from work. I decided my days of accepting responsibilities were finished. I am now a golden oldie and do what I want to do and not what I have to. My successor is doing a very good job. I often meet some of the members as they live in my village or the next village. One thing I am a little proud of was the introduction of the www pages in Internet. I had just completed a web assistant course and asked if they would like a web site. “Oh yes” and a week later I was asked if it was up and running. I explained that web sites were not built in a day, at least the ones I made, but towards the end of the year we had our web site, of my own design. I did it for a couple of years and we were lucky to have a new member who ran his own computer company in his working life, so he took it over and it is still alive.

I learnt one thing from this exercise “do not say yes every time someone asks you for a favour”. I now let the others get on with it, but I have my Kerria Japonica as one good memory.

Photos and Stories behind them: My Kerria Japonica – Day 3

16 thoughts on “Photos and Stories behind them: My Kerria Japonica, Day 3

  1. It’s like the warn you in the army: NEVER volunteer! I too learned the hard way. At one point, they very much wanted Garry to be the President of the local Rotary organization. We talked about it. He knew he didn’t want to, but he didn’t want to be a bad sport. I suggested being a bad sport was much better than winding up with a full-time unpaid job he would hate. He had just retired. Did he really need all that angst? He turned it down. We are both very careful about accepting offers of free work. People are SO eager to take advantage of us. Shameless, they are.
    —-
    Our daffodils are up and the tulips are looking eager too. Late, but it’s going to be a big flower display very soon.

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    • I learnt that one the hard way. Mr. Swiss has just got a new job. He goes to his class reunion once a year (those that are still around). Two weeks ago he was at a funeral of the guy that organises it and there is no-one left that knows what a computer is. Guess who said yes to the job. Just a few addresses to organise he said. He has already spread a few profanities about the new word system on Windows 8. Anyhow not my problem, and dismal though it i,s the group is dwindling and certainly not growing. Next Friday they have their annual dinner at a restaurant run by one of the class mates and her family.

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      • Shudder! My class reunion, to which I did NOT go, took a year to organize and then everyone got together and told each other lies. I swear they went to a different school because my memories are completely different than theirs. It’s weird. Garry had the same experience at his high school reunion — everyone had all these great memories of stuff they did together and Garry remembered nothing like that. Hmm. Whatever does it mean?

        Never volunteer. You will always be sorry!

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        • We have a school reunion once a year generally. I went once, but did not know anyone. Our school was in the citty of London It was interesting, because we came from all walks of life to go there. Some of the older girls even remember being evacuated in the war years to a safer part of the country.

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  2. Our first foretelling of Spring is the Forsythia bushes, and are so yellow, as to seem like the only color in the back yard at the moment, a month since the official first day of Spring. We’re late bloomers up here, I guess 🙂

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  3. Lovely flowers. I want one in my garden. The problem is that we are never stationed at one place so whatever we grow, have to be left as a legacy for the next occupant. In a way it’s good. In Army seniors are always in hunt for the so called volunteers. As a wife of an officer I have to do so much for the sake of welfare.

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  4. Pingback: Roses are Red – Baby when you come | Naveen writes

  5. Once I volunteered to help in the press association, and I ended negotiating alone with the chief of the police to demand him to give me back the films and cameras that his agents had requisitioned by force to my colleagues during a night of violent riots. But I think that being the accountant is worst. Beautiful flowers in your garden.

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