Well, I returned home to find a full fledged lack of morale here
in the house. Last week one of the twin tropical bushes I had had
decided to commit a very noble Japanese-style suicide by
impaling itself through the middle (or so it appeared) and simply
slouching over. Plant Hari-kiri. Who knew?
Its brother in arms has take this as a sign he should rise to
prominence, but, much like Icarus, in his desire to grow
closer to the sun he has gone too high, and is now quickly outgrowing
his pot and turning brown. The favorite plant, the one that looks like
a Chinese impressionist painting, appears bitter at my many recent
absences, and appears to be despondent at its anticipated move to 'the
apartment of the guy downstairs who smells funny but helped my owner
move me upstairs in exchange for a promise I would go to him when she
left' I've been trying to keep it a secret, but I think it heard me on
the phone to the movers.
The one star of the house is my little Filipino table plant,
given to me by the maid when my other one died (right around the time
she took over the plant-care duties, calling me inept and better
suited to writing than nurturing- bodes well for kids later in life,
eh?). It knows it will go back to her care when I am gone, and it
actually seems excited at the prospect.
Nordic Ware Charlotte Cake Pan
4 hours ago