Poor Haron.
You see, she’s not very good at watering house plants. Even cacti and Joshua Trees – survivors in the most arid desert conditions – perish at her hands if I head off on a long business trip.
Now, I’m too generous to whack her for failing to water plants that she probably dislikes in the first place. That would be cruel. And I’m not a cruel man.
But when she was away recently, I decided it was time for a selection of our more recently-expired plants to find their way to the great garden centre in the sky. I happened to notice that one particular orchid (or, perhaps, ‘ex-orchid’) has been propped up by a rather nice cane. Thin, not hugely flexible.
Said orchid disappeared to the wastebin; said cane was hidden away for future application.
So, Haron finds herself at 11pm last night with a good few hours of work still ahead of her to finish off an important paper. She wanders upstairs, and I happen to notice the by-now-forgotten length of bamboo. I whacked her with it across her jeans, as one would. “Doesn’t hurt,” she grinned, with a trademark ‘I want to be smacked’ wiggle.
A girl under-estimates a cane at her peril. Apparently it did hurt, a lot, when it was applied more forcefully, the young lady positioned face down on the bed, backside in the air, jeans and panties removed. Hurt enough that a firm hand was needed on her back to hold her down for the whacking.
And then she went off to complete her work. She always seems to study more diligently when her backside is striped; I have a theory that it reminds her of the impact of slacking. See, I was only helping.
Gentlemen spankers invariably head towards rattan for their cane collections; I’m beginning to think that the qualities of bamboo needs further research.
I’m not really surprised a Joshua Tree would perish in England, considering they only grow in the Mojave desert. 😛
But my dear Tasha, I’ve had a thriving collection of baby Joshua Trees in a pot on my windowsill for some years, grown from seeds bought in New Mexico. Happy little Joshua Trees – until Haron decided that even Mojave desert levels of aridity would be too wet for them to flourish, and abandoned them to their fate.
**snark** The only thing I’ve ever seen flourishing on your windowsill is your cat. 😛
I have to agree with Tasha on this.
Unless your business trips take you away from home for more than a few *months* at a time, there’s no way said Joshua trees died *solely* from Haron’s neglect.
Either that, or their window sill had a draft. They do hate moisture.
Me? I’ve got three plants that I’ve discovered will never need to be repotted so long as I continue to only water them ever 4 – 8 weeks.
I support Tasha’s point about what is likely to flourish on Abel’s windowsill.
Moreover, given the extent of Haron’s responsibilities, I think it is asking too much that she be required to maintain and nurture the health and apparent mental wellbeing of Abel’s non-indigenous ‘happy’ plants. One can only wonder if there might be a hint of cruelty in imposing such a requirement in the first place. Not that Abel is cruel, of course. (Remember, he’s only trying to help).
However, I love orchids, and as such, I have to agree with Abel (am I really saying that?) that a caning was in order for allowing one of those spectacular plants to die. (Sorry, Haron, you know I would prefer to take your side on these matters, but letting an orchid die is just going too far… ).
On the bright side, at least the cat is flourishing.
Alli, don’t worry, he didn’t cane me for killing his plants. He only caned me because I happened to be there
Leaving aside the issue of horticultural climate for the moment, I will only point out that bamboo is more likely than rattan to splinter when it breaks. That is why it is ordinarily not considered suitable material for canes.
Hi Haron,
I’m glad you understood I didn’t really want to take Abel’s side on this. And, after reading Mija’s comment, I I must retract my comment about you deserving the caning, because orchids, even the happy ones, require very little care. I find it hard to imagine that despite Abel’s schedule, he could not manage to care for his own orchid. Perhaps he’s the one who should have tasted the rod for allowing his orchid to die. >:) (Ohhh, I hope he’s not traveling anywhere near me anytime soon)!
Mmm…this brought back a happy memory for me that got posted on my blog.
Regarding Haron’s horticultural skills, I’ll stick with my gender and agree with the ladies. Not because they are of my gender but because they are right.
Though, I have to commiserate about studying better on a sore bottom. Indeed, when it came to schoolwork or writing A. simply dispensed with waiting for me to procrastinate and just started me off with a good spanking.
Oh dear, I don’t think I should have said that…
You girls really are too blase about the death of so many plants. I may have to set my Triffids on you.
Mmmm, wonder what a triffiding would be like?
Dearest Abel,
Blase? B L A S E? How can you possibly accuse me of being blase about the death of your orchid when I agreed that _someone_ should be at the receiving end of the stick for allowing it to die?! I wasn’t blase at all, I was just mistaken at first, (or should I say mislead?)and wrongfully blamed poor Haron, who had to work with a sore bottom when in my opinion, the owner of said orchid should have taken the blame, as well as the cane!
I would be curious, however, as to the happiness evaluation of any particular plant. Do you use certain emotional testing scales to make those determinations? *snark*