dear bella -
such a sweet report, and such a beautiful little family you got there.
so they know the mistress'es voice already? very clever off-spring.
dear larry -
go larry, go larry, go ... go ... go!
dear all -
and now that ol' lar is doing better ... here is the flower tale i promised, and next TIME will be the tale of the (bear) tail in our tree. enjoy!
this little story was first related to Our Mister TOM in a letter dated to HIM: January 20, 1994. anyWHO, enjoy!
Long ... long ago
in a country far, far away
lived a lady with an annoying problem.
considering all the world's weighty worrisome woes, it probably wouldn't truly qualify as a serious impediment
- not even close to the top ten: plague, famine, war, et. al -
but it did concern her.
She had, as it might be called, a black thumb.
Not that the lady didn't adore plants of al kinds, she did; she just had a way of killing them all!
Too much water ... not enough water ... too little conversation with them [ha!] ... too much talk [much 'moore' likely] ...
No matter, the end always played out the same.The End
for the plant.
One day, her four children put their heads collectively together, and bought her a Hawaiian air fern.
It promptly died
. [The poor ol' dear didn't even last four complete days!]
Therfore ... the Quartet tried again.
[After all, they were very good kiddies, WHO truly loved their mam, in spite of this ... one horrific flaw.]
SCENE TWO: air fern II - (play over "The Death Tune Nell") 86'd! [Lasted two whole days, this one.]
"Mother Suttek! We're giving you one 'moore' try!" they screamed in unison.
And so they did. [Bless their unified, brave, lil' United Statesian hearts.]
Then ... You got it in one! [Like, was it really THAT hard to anticipate the outcome?]
The third air fern (remember these kinds of ferns require NO FOOD - NO WATER ever, ever to LIVE) bit the dust! [Ah, actually, it literally turned to dust ... disintegrated ... fragmentized ... quite possibly, IMPLODED.]
The lady was sad. [sob - sob- sob - snuffle.]
Her Children were sadder. [A mother you can NEVER give flowers to.]
And her grand children (9) and great-grand children (3) were even sadder. [Which really was a rather neat lil' trick, as none of them were even BORN at the TIME of this story!]
Still, saddest of all were, of course, the Air Ferns! [Back! Stay back, hillbilly, witchy person! Breathe the other way, all ready!]
But being clever, intelligent, creative, tenacious children (like their father -- [ah,ha! 'gots ya'! bet you thought I was going to say ... mother!] --) they had yet another idea.
Pooling their meager resources, they went out and bought her an artificial plant! [And the PLOT thickens.]
The lady was pleased.
Her Children were very pleased.
And as for the plant, it was 'moore' pleased than anyone else, thank you very much.
For days and days, and nights and nights, it sat happily in the middle of the dinning room table (that clever Poppa built). Its resplendent (artificial) orange flowers with a few (also fake) pink blossoms interspersed; and tiny sculptured, green (phony) leaves added a pleasant hominess to the room.
Then one morning, to the lady's horror (INSERT "Theme from Jaws") there on the table top was a pink blossom and two green leaves.
At best, this was a sick plant. At worst, it was expiring!
"But you can't die!" the lady screamed. "You were never alive! And even I can't kill something that was non-living to begin with! You're totally plastic, from wholly inorganic compounds!"
The lady's white tabby cat observed, as she did all the family's comings and goings, with quiet acceptance. After all, it was the mistress with the problem, not she.
The next morning, all was "well" with the plant. [Phew! Not cracking up after all. Not like I am the only parent in the world with three children in high school at the same TIME.]
Then on the very next morning ... not so lucky. Three 'moore' fallen leaves. [And it wasn't even remotely close to being autumn!]
This 'thing' went on an off (and off and on) for a fortnight.
Some mornings the plant was intact. But others saw, for want of a better word, a flower arrangement wilting
But then on one, very early morning trek to The Necessary Room, the lady was passing though the dining area, when she noticed, one white tabby, on table top, batting at the leaves and flowers of ... [You got it in one, again! Clever reader.]
Well, that solved one eternal mystery, thought probably not of the earth shattering kind. Still it was a small relief to the lady nonetheless, as she now knew her thumb wasn't nearly as BLACK as she had thought it might be. But there was still the matter of a WHITE cat WHO had a powerful lot of 'splain' to do in ...