Today I sit in the quiet of the morning with the faint tap of rain on the roof and the click of my keyboard. It’s a perfect writing atmosphere. A little while ago, I heard a little whispered voice say, “I’m thirsty.” Of course, I’m all alone here, so I ignored this obvious imaginative voice. Then, a few minutes later I hear, “I’m thirsty.”
Now I’m not getting any younger and my sometimes feeble mind does play tricks [with no treats] so I got up and walked around the house thankful that no one is here to see and ask embarrassing questions. Once in the living room I hear it again, “I’m thirsty.” I couldn’t resist and with a little smile, I asked, “Who said that?”
“I did” I heard and the droopy leaves of my very large Mauna Loa plant ruffled. I started to laugh at my obvious senility. “Haven’t you noticed that it’s been raining for four straight days?” “Uh huh” I said not believing that I was talking to a plant. Although I have been known to talk to them on special occasions, this was the first time they [or so I thought] were talking to me!
“Well, um, yes I’ve noticed that it’s been raining. Is there a point to this ‘Alice in Wonderland’ conversation?” “ Well yes, you see all our brothers and sisters outside are nice and happy with all the water they want. We, because of your inept ignorance of our needs, have not given us a drop of water in more than two weeks.” “’Inept ignorance’ is pretty heady stuff for a plant, don’t you think?” “Do try not to change the subject, we’re thirsty!” And with that, all the plants began to chant, “We’re thirsty, we’re thirsty, we’re thirsty.”
Dutiful plant owner that I am, I looked around, and sure enough all the plants were dry and wilting. I indeed had not watered them in two weeks. Heeding to the supposed will of these creatures that give me the joy of flowers and the sustenance of oxygen, I brought them outside. One by one, I put each plant in the rain where they now sit ruffling their leaves in happiness. In a few hours, I’ll try to remember to bring them back in and put them on their lofty assigned perches.
Now, everybody knows that I don’t write fiction since it is equally well-known that I don’t have an imagination. But you’re asking yourself if this really happened, right? Well, hell, I don’t know. I can tell you that early this morning all my plants were dying of thirst and now they are all outside under the heavy rain. I can also tell you that their leaves are fluffing around in apparent happiness and they have already perked up in a picture of health. Who cares if it happened. The plants are happy. I’m happy. And no one was here to actually witness my obvious senility.
Another great little story. Thank you for sharing. Sometimes there is no answer…
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So true. I’m glad you stopped by today.
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Me too. 🙂
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This is great.
Made me smile…
on a Monday, no less.
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Monday smiles are the best. Thanks for stopping by today Dani
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My pleasure.
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when all are happy, who are we to judge ?)
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They’re all smiling now …. I think …. I can’t really tell … at least the whispers have stopped and the leaves have stopped shaking.
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Keep an ear out for the tapping on the window pane JT.
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Will do. There is a pileated woodpecker nearby that has a weird look in his eye. Got to watch that guy C.J.
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Heck, you just reminded me.
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Let me know if they say anything interesting 🙂
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Plant watering is actually my least favorite chore. Many plants have died here, due to neglect. Your post reminds me that it’s been about two weeks for me, too. Time to get on it!
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Don’t they whisper anything? How about yell at you? Nothing? Weird plants you have. 🙂
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Sometimes they blow over across tables I have set them on because they are so dry. Does that mean they’re literally jumping off the table to poke at me and demand water? I guess it’s possible!
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I think only Orchids do that. I give them a bigger pot so they can’t do that. 🙂
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Thanks. I’m grinning!
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So are my plants. It’s finally stopped raining too!
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Did they ‘plant’ the thoughts in your mind? Sorry. Couldn’t resist.
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[sic] I deserved that 🙂 Thanks Renee
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I can’t believe that at one time you actually thought you were done with this. Great conversation!
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Sometimes it leaves and sometimes it comes back. I’ve learned a lot about this writing thing. I’m glad you liked it Robyn.
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Yes, I completely understand about how much can be learned. This past year has been a full learning curve, not the least of which is, how many voices I really have. It’s been a lot of fun to try out different ideas. Looks good on you too.
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I wish I had a reserve “Dave Barry” voice I could use any time I wanted. My feeble attempts never quite measure to his lofty bar, but I really enjoy doing it.
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I think mine must have spoken to me, too, because they are all outside.
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There, you see, definitive evidence! HA! 🙂
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Well, I know for a fact plants do better when we talk to them so I will certainly not argue the point with you about plants talking to you. : )
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Seems logical somehow.
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Too Funny! Plants talking? Uh, huh?
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Don’t judge me, I’m old.
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