Kou le'ale'a paha He mea ma'a mau ia

When I was younger.... much, much younger; still at School, still in the first or second year at secondary and still attending, much to my horror Bible Class on a Sunday, my friend and I had been tasked with bringing daffodils to the Class for some Easter Event or such like.

We had had a perfectly pleasant evening in the town, playing around on the beach, warming up with Hot Vimto in the Venice later, and then we began our walk home. She stayed at one end of the town, and I the other.

We would walk the length of Portland Street, the top of which we believed to be half way between our houses, and then sit on the bench at the Football park, and discuss putting the world to rights for at least another hour.

Eventually we would make our separate ways in opposite directions, waving to each other until the bend in the road afforded us no sight any longer.

This night however, we sat and contemplated the Daffodils for the Bible Class and wondered what our excuse would be for having none. And then we decided that would wander up a bit closer to my end - being more residential and we would purloin a few from the gardens which were bountiful.

Off we headed, dizzy with excitement at our plan and giggling away to ourselves. We started at the bottom of a street and pulled a couple from each garden on the way... with the exception of the house of the local spey wifey, because we knew she would know it was us.

Do you know that feeling, when you are doing something so inherently wrong, but the adrenalin is just flooding through you making you so excited. The more we picked the more we wanted. And oh how we laughed as one of us would hold the picked flowers, and the other would crawl into a garden if we couldn't reach over the fence.

By the time we reached my house, we had so many daffodils that we had to fill milk bottles, and lemonade bottles to accommodate them all. And that Mam, is where all the daffodils came from. :-) I had been doing Church work.