Nick Cage and the Spider Plants

[smokingboot]

In an attempt to discuss something harmless with my mother, I tell her about the teeny spider plants that needed replanting.

'You are not to touch the soil of that place where you live,' came her response. 'You and your cats, all of you have been ill since you moved to that place. There is something wrong with it. Do not touch the earth.'

One of our cats is what's classed as a super-geriatric, 21 this year. The others will be 17 in the autumn. We lost one at 16 and a half. According to our vets 13 is the line, and from my personal experience, 15 is the magical disappearing age. After that, it's all gravy.

I have told her this many times. She knows nothing about cats. She knows nothing about soil. She knows nothing about our house. The only way I can handle this conversation with patience over and over again is by imagining her as Nicolas Cage saying these things.
At least it makes me laugh.

I reassured her that we're using Miracle-gro for indoor plants. She seemed satisfied.

'Never eat anything grown in that garden,' she added, 'I think you should leave.'

I wish she wouldn't do this. There may well be a time to go not because of anything wrong, but because by nature I'm a bird of passage. But if we never moved again, I would be surrounded by fantastic friends we made here. Shut up Nick.