Village Squire, 1975-07, Page 10Who's
the shop
steward?
BY IRENE MCBRIDE
It was a source of great joy to grow up with
a plant loving mother who possessed the
greenest of emerald green thumbs.
I was always convinced that, with little, or
no, effort on my part, my thumbs could be
just as colourful. After all, I reasoned, if
brains, brawn and big bosoms could run in
families....why not green thumbs?
It was a servere disappointment to me,
therefore, to find that, where plants are
concerned, I have many more thumbs than
necessary and nary a one of them green. Not
even a pale, sickly green!
When, finally, I acquired a home of my own
I decided to grace my front hall with a
magnificent rubber plant. I bought the most
attractive I could find and tended it with
loving care. It was watered frugally and the
foliage washed with all the tenderness of a
seventeen year old with his first car.
Slowly the bottom leaves turned rusty.
There they dangled.... nakedly....with all the
beauty of a clutch of worn leather soles.
I endured the agony of their slow death for
as long as I could; working on the premise
that rusty brown leaves are preferable to the
void which their removal would leave behind.
Then,' not being made of stone, I finally
offered the plant by condolences and retired
the backsliders from this world.
8, VILLAGE SQUIRE/JULY 1975
Beautiful, green, shiny leaves unfurled at
the top as quickly as their elders turned to
rust at the bottom.
As I picked off the old leaves and my
rubber plant grew taller I found I was in the
process of growing what looked to be a fair
copy of a palm tree. In panic I wondered
about the hole I was going to have to cut in
the ceiling to accommodate my monster.
Seeing my distress, a kind friend intimated
that I was beyond my depth with a rubber
plant and she presented me with a healthy
house plant resplendent with pink flowers.
This plant, she explained, grew with gay
abandon; flowering profusely and continuous-
ly. My gratitude knew no bounds. This, at
last, was the plant for me. In the absence of a
legal name I called rimy new friend, Jennifer.
She was placed on top of the refrigerator
and I had a few matey words with her just to
show how welcome she was. Then I sat back
and waited.
To my surprise,' to say nothing bf the
reaction of my new plant, the fridge in action
set Jennifer in motion; the leaves and flowers
doing a rythmic little dance; full of movement
`and life. I could never get an admission but
felt sure the prolific Jennifer really enjoyed
these moments of animation. The pink
flowers cavorted in unison until, one day,
they realized who was watching and then they