Hello, I’m Tom Hardy (use your imagination for this one). I’m smouldering and I can melt chocolate just by looking at it. Are you sitting comfortably? If you haven’t fainted, I’ll begin…
One morning, in-between the rain, sun, rain, sun, rain, I was sitting out on the terrace at WLGV watching a canalboat glide past. I was thinking.
It’s been a fabulous week. Pubs and restaurants have been allowed to open indoors again, allowing diners to eat inside. Our Canalside restaurant is busy and it really has been lovely to see everybody back.
And then it hit me.
A wayward golf ball right on the back of my head. Golf courses, of course, could open too (and that wayward ball must have been more wayward than most as Daventry golf course is two miles away – so don’t worry if you are sitting here!!)
I was suddenly transported into a magical land. There were beautiful displays of flowers and gifts. The place was so well stocked and everyone had such happy faces. There were people singing…
“We’re off to see the Whilton – the wonderful Whilton of Locks
Because, because, because, because, because,
Incredible bargains and goodies there woz!”
I was with a tin-man and a cowardly lion and we skipped through the bedding plants: The Lobelias, Begonias, Mesembryanthemums and Asters. (In stock NOW*).
(The scarecrow wasn’t in the dream as he doesn’t shop at Whilton Locks – because he doesn’t have a brain!!)
We followed a yellow brick road (well, a one-way system put in place to help with social distancing), through the gifts, past the superb water features, around some wonderful garden furniture, admired an incredible selection of composts and skipped through a pet department. It was AMAZING!
As we danced, I saw the prices on each item and thought how they were the best I had ever seen. Such were the savings, I was convinced I was in a some sort of famous-film-parody-dream.
“Dorothy, Dorothy!”
Someone was shouting. It was odd I thought, because my name isn’t Dorothy. (I said my name was Tom, remember?)
“Break time is over, you Munchkin!”
A bit rude, I thought but in the context of this tenuously linked (however highly creative) article, I let it go.
I was back on the terrace Kansas-side, er… I mean Canalside. Oh it WAS all a dream, I thought – after all, those prices were so good, they couldn’t possibly be true.
Could they?
“Somewhere over the A5. Give us a try.
There’s a place that I heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the M1 skies are blue.
And the dreams for your garden really do come true.”
There’s no place like Whilton Locks – There’s no place like Whilton Locks.
Goodnight!