The message from the top was clear: Time to leave behind the salad days, when they were green in judgment and believed they could change the world on their own.
The message was unequivocal: "Time for Government." In case party members didn't quite grasp what their elected deputies were saying, this was printed down one side of the complimentary pens left out in the Mansion House.
"This green pen is made from recycled paper" read the other side.
The ink inside was black.
Michael McDowell once famously boasted that the Progressive Democrats were the sustaining meat in the Fianna Fáil sandwich. Then the voters ate him and his party without salt at last month's election.
So the big worry for the torn Greens as they wrestled with the idea of entering government with The Soldiers of Broccoli was that they would end up as mere lettuce in a Fianna Fáil bap - there for a bit of bulking and colour, but not much else.
This anxiety grew yesterday morning, when details of the main points of the agreed programme for government appeared in The Irish Times.
Not much sign of protein there for the Greens, animal or otherwise.
The 90-page document the membership had to consider was short on specifics and long on aspiration. Some of the major issues that have driven the Green Party over the years simply didn't figure amid the talk of targets and promises and commitments.
With markedly few delivery dates set down in writing, the majority of the commitments could have been prefaced with the phrase: "In an ideal world . . ." Without cast-iron agreements, those words could become all too familiar to the coalition Greens when they start to deal with the Minister for Finance.
However, on an optimistic note, the ink was hardly dry on the programme for government when a major shift on climate change occurred.
After the long dry spell, the Greens' delegate conference began in a deluge, and it rained and rained for the rest of the day.
The programme for the day was rather strange. For the first couple of hours, members came in, collected their copy of the programme for government and tried to digest it. Then there was a break. Then a question and answer session, when party leaders tried to sell the deal. Then another break.
It was six o'clock in the evening before the actual debate on the motion to go into coalition began.
Some observers thought this was a very clever use of time-management by the party leaders, almost hustling voters into making a decision without giving them enough time to adequately consider the matter. Maybe they learned a few things during those 10 days of negotiating with Fianna Fáil.
Others were of the view that the party was all over the place, and people were attributing them with Machiavellian qualities that they don't possess.
Protesters lined the way into the Mansion House - waving sodden banners, shouting about the use of Shannon airport by American troops and the protection of Tara. Anything that moved was leafleted.
Into this maelstrom strode the Green deputies, determined to push through the programme and on into government.
And being Greens, they politely stopped for the media and talked up the "positives" of their document, all the while getting unmercifully barracked by the protesters. Eamon Ryan did his best to persuade them to his point of view, to no avail. "They'll squash you. They'll ruin you. Hold on to your principles," he was told.
"Garth Brooks is in favour of saving Tara!" declared a flying leafleteer.
"It's absolutely tragic!" shouted anti-war campaigner, Richard Boyd Barret, from across the way. He wasn't referring to the Mr Brooks.
"We're expecting more protesters to arrive at teatime." Most party members tried to slip quietly inside. "Don't get involved with the Fianna Fáil warmongers!" they were urged.
Meanwhile, Deputy Ryan battled on. "Here, take this leaflet on corruption," encouraged a man in a bobble hat. "It's a sell-out!"
You could see it was difficult for the paid-up Greens who would have to vote. "All those people out there protesting - they aren't even members," said a senior party activist.
When Trevor Sargent arrived, he too tried to sell the positive aspects of the deal. The rain bucketed down.
"A major step forward for the implementation of Green Party policy in Ireland," he insisted. The crowd didn't agree. Trevor looked stressed.
Dan Boyle looked a little worried. Paul Gogarty was being buttonholed by a lady about fur-farming.
It was all very wet, and very fraught. Back at Leinster House, away from the soggy Greens, Deputy Finian McGrath was outlining how he had secured a deal worth "hundreds of millions" from Bertie Ahern for his support. He even held up the page containing the signatures to prove it.
"I've delivered on some fantastic national projects" he said modestly, adding "Mercs and perks are not for me." (Although they had been on the table)
As the poor Greens battled on at the Mansion House, Bertie unveiled his new Parliamentary Party.
The new deputies, along with the surviving ones, steamed alarmingly down the plinth. It began to rain, and an umbrella was produced to keep the Taoiseach dry.
"Ashford Castle" was written on it. Canny Bertie decided to brave the weather.
The deputies gathered around him for the traditional family photo. But when it came to talking to the media, it was Brian Cowen who came forward.
Bertie melted back into the crowd and was back inside Leinster House while Brian was still talking.
A sign of things to come? Perhaps he didn't want to make any statements until he is officially back in the job. Or maybe he just wanted to get away from all those haunted looks from deputies who want a job in cabinet.
The Fianna Fáil TDs were holding copies of the programme for government under their arms. It was labelled "confidential." They gave them out to reporters, no problem.
Back at the Mansion House, it transpired that Newstalk had a number of moles at the meeting who were texting reports of what was happening inside. Patricia McKenna burst into tears at the podium and said she was voting against.
Trevor Sargent said his future was not as important as the future of the country, and he would be happy to step down as leader.
More people wanted to talk in favour of the motion than against.
It was going to be very close. Would the salad days end for the Greens and a more pragmatic era dawn? Back in Leinster House, they were decking the halls with floral arrangements to greet the new Dáil today. Brian Cowen had a salad for lunch in the canteen. The climate had changed.
And yes, they can have their Mercs and hold their head highs.
As top of the range bicycles go, the Eddy Merckx range is hard to beat. The Garda tandem protection outfit might not be so happy.