A bedtime story....

Ok, kiddies. Are you all tucked in and sleepy yet? I have to tell you a story.

In the beginning, there was my mother...a gardener who loved plants, both inside and out. However, woe betide any plant who had the audacity to bloom white. She was heartless and ruthless and tore them out by the roots. Evil, she was.

Along came a knight (he who married me) who, being of the chivalrous sort, thought perhaps the way to a mother-in-laws heart was to buy her a plant, each and every Christmas, and so it was that this became a tradition. Now this knight had a rather wicked sense of humour and decided one Christmas that a white plant would be perfect. A thing of beauty. Pristine. Who could resist a white Christmas cactus, after all?

So, the knight bought this lovely plant and wrapped it up tenderly. The mother, upon opening this wonderous gift, thanked him, through gritted teeth, and displayed his gift in the living room window for all to see. You see, she loved her son-in-law very much and wouldn't hurt his feelings.

Time passed. The plant grew, and blossomed. The daughter would receive phone call after phone call always prefaced with "You know that damn plant? Well, it's blooming again". Finally came the call saying she refused to water the thing ever again and she was determined that would be it's demise. Several months passed.

Then came the call..."You know that damn plant? Well, it's blooming again".

When my mother died, the only plant out of the dozens she had I kept was what will ever be known as "That Damn Plant". To this very day, it blooms. Proof is in the photo.

I love you Mom.
The end.