Published March 04. 2021 4:01PM
Ruth W. Crocker, Special to The Times
The first time I attended a “luncheon” at Capriland’s Herb Farm in Coventry in the 1970s, I was met by the 5-foot-tall Mrs. Simmons at the door of her circa 1740 home.
“Come in, come in. You’re almost late,” she said as she hustled us through the door, wearing her tam hat and signature cloak, into a room festooned with ribbons, herbs and dried flowers. The aroma of mint, rose geranium and lavender permeated the air and our clothes. A table at the entrance held a wedding-sized punch bowl surrounded by a wreath of silver artemisia and delicate wild carrot.