I remember reading an article in Toronto Life where Harold Town said he hated house plants. To him they were a sorry replacement for sculpture. The boys are big admirers of Harold and are apparently doing his bidding from beyond the grave.
Their relentless quest to eliminate my plants continues well, relentlessly. On the weekend, they took out the giant potted palm as ruthlessly as contract killers. The palm, my pride and joy as a successful plant, had grown to a towering 6 feet in height. The fiendish fur-faces decided to chop it down to size - I can picture the spirit of a slightly drunken Harold Town egging them on. "Theesh right, my lads, down goes the tree to be replaaashed by a full-sized statue something with a strategic fig-leaf!!!"
Somehow they succeeded in breaking the palm tree in half. Did they climb it? Hurl their little furry bodies off the couch at it?
I don't think they used a chain saw because I don't have one. Good thing, too. With a chain saw at their disposal they could make quick work of the plants and then move on to the furniture - a horrifying thought. And yet, everyone thinks they're "so cute" when they meet them. Even Nighthawk, who loves plants as much as kittens. So sculpture it is. I'm gettin' me some big heavy bronzes.
When they fall over they might just squash one of the two plant killers in the process. Be careful what you wish for boys - you just might get it! xxx dad
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