We had some rather "top end" visitors to the garden the other day.
The owner of one of the local perfume houses (for which Grasse is world-famous); an immaculately dressed lady, all dark glasses and pearls; came for a look around the garden. I was weeding the new potager, which five months ago was a bare terrace; she had a long look up and down the rows of tomatoes, chard, the box balls, sculpture and oblongs of calade and pronounced it...
"Sophisticated"
"Sophisticated"
I could’ve kissed her.
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