The Ashburton branch of the Country Women's Association held its monthly meeting yesterday afternoon at a local National Trust property, and by all accounts, it was lovely.
Members arrived through the garden in spring dresses and wide-brimmed sun hats, linen shirts and pressed linen pants, the kind of outfits that seem to arrive at exactly the right occasion without anyone quite planning it that way. The air through the grounds carried a soft mix of viburnum, osmanthus, and jasmine.
The urn was on before anyone arrived, which several members noted was "very organised" and "the way it should be." Scones were provided, still warm, alongside jam and cream served the correct way, a point of quiet consensus that required no discussion.
The minutes from last month's meeting were read and accepted without amendment. A small vote was held regarding the tablecloth for the upcoming fete — floral, as it has been for some years — and passed unanimously, with one member remarking that "there wasn't really any need to change it, but it's nice to ask."
Conversation drifted, as it often does at this time of year, toward the garden itself. Two members compared notes on whether the roses had been pruned too early this season, while another mentioned, with some pride, that her osmanthus had finally flowered after three quiet years of "doing absolutely nothing." Someone else raised the question of whether jasmine ought to be considered a weed, a suggestion met with polite but firm disagreement from at least four members at once.
Tea was poured twice per person on average, occasionally three times for members seated closer to the pot. At one point, a member briefly misplaced her glasses, found them on her own head within moments, and the room moved on without incident, the way rooms like this tend to.
The meeting concluded on time, the good plates were washed and returned to their rightful cupboard, and everyone agreed, as they generally do, to see each other again next month, garden notes and all.