I have an ugly old cactus.
I am an admirer of cacti on the whole. I think they are rather intriguing plants and come in some very peculiar shapes and sizes.
The cactus I am talking about though is a large monstrosity which frankly provides little adornment to an otherwise shabby room. As a result it is consigned to the back room where most junk seems to end up.
It languishes on the window ledge there and is ignored by all and sundry. It never ever gets water or any kind of food. It is just left there to die. Its leaves [or whatever you call ‘em] become even more droopy and far from being green, they are brown and blotchy.
Every year the same thing happens.
This dead, dehydrated plant that no one likes the look of suddenly bursts into bloom.
I’m not talking miserable little flowers here – I’m talking massive, spectacular vivid blooms. They appear throughout the plant in a fantastic display of rebellion.
When this happens the poor old cactus is whisked into the main living-room where it becomes the centre of attraction and attention. Of course it is fed and watered until the last bloom dies, whereupon it is consigned to the back room for another eleven months of dehydration and starvation.
I wonder if the same treatment would work on Herself?