a town in bloom

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I can only assume that the Town in Bloom judging is imminent. My ridiculously early {it's Little Niece You Can Now Have Conversations With Day!} ramble along the High Street was brightened by a swathe of blooms in every colour of the rainbow. If that rainbow is predominantly in shades of pink and purple, with an occasional splash of yellow, blue or orange. It is very pretty, no question of that. But is it pretty enough to win a Town in Bloom Award? I am fortunate to live in a town which does pride itself on these things. We have flowers along the High Street {and by the church and around the war memorial and by the bandstand} all year, but when Judgement Day looms the town is simply festooned with flowers. We also have a street cleaner. I think he is probably the Go-to Man. He gets around town, sorting the bins, looking after the public conveniences and ... Hmmm. Chatting? If my town were the setting for a Stephen King book, he would probably be the character who saves the day, simply because he knows everything. I would be the weird woman, the quirky one who lives in her own little bubble and only talks to the neighbours when her cat goes missing, but who is surprisingly deep and useful in horrific situations. Even when clowns are involved. Who would you be? There's an old house next to the multi-denominational church which has two chimneys. Ivy grows up the wall and chimneys and it is shaped so that it looks like a child's drawing of a boat. I'm not sure if that is intentional or not! Goodness, put me on a bus and I can waffle about nothing for ages ...