"What a lovely morning!" Bathilda sat in her tiny little kitchen. She was sipping tea while looking out the window. She says her cup done and looked into the bottom of it. "Hm, maybe I'll go water the garden. I should go put on my gardening robes." Her gardening robes were brightly colored and floral.
Outside she put on a pair of gardening gloves, also bright and floral, and grabbed the watering can and the pruning shears. She made her way from one flower bush to the next watering, pruning, and talking to each as she moved along.
"Drink up my lovelies! Drink up if you want to grow up and be bigger and more beautiful than the other pitiful little flowers down the street." She would say to one. And to yet another she would add, "My word, look how nicely you've grown.
"Oh my, what happened here?" She set down the watering can and was holding one of the flowers gently in her hand. "That horrid dog from down the way must have been digging around here again. You poor thing." She looked around more closely at the ground and sure enough there was a spot of earth that looked freshly turned. She tsked and made a mental note to leave a wonderful surprise for the mongrel should he ever feel the need to journey into her garden again.
"Mrs. Bagshot?" Bathilda looked up at the blonde woman standing in front of the gate to the yard. "I was wondering if I might be able to share a cup of tea with you and maybe a story or two."
"It'll have to wait. Can't you see I'm in the middle of a conversation?"
The blonde woman looked around the yard and saw no one else near. "With whom are you talking?" But Bathilda wasn't even listening. Her attention was already back to her flowers.
"Now then my pretties where was I? Oh yes," She clipped the rose that was hanging limply and placed it in the little basket that was nearby and already had a few other flowers laying in it. "Ah, that should be enough for today." She picked up the basket and watering can and walked back up the walk to her house and went in. Leaving the blonde outside not knowing what to do.
"Crazy old bat," muttered the woman as she opened the gate and made her way up to the front door acid green quill and roll of parchment clutched in her hand.