Something Ugly

This here is Natalie.

Natalie the butt-ugly Quinine bush.

How did such a fugly plant find its way into my garden?

A few months back, Mom is up for a visit and we are at Plants of the Southwest. Mom spots a cluster of pots that are growing dead sticks. So she marches over, picks one and reads the tag: "Likes salt. Has no leaves or discernable flowers."

"Ugly," I say.

She give me a look like I had said, "Right after this, why don't we head north and club some baby seals?" I roll my eyes and wander away to look at plants with leaves and flowers.

Minutes later she creeps up to me, a plot in her eyes. "If I buy that plant, will you plant it in your yard?" Oh, crap. She feels sorry for it.

I'm a charmer, so I say something like. "No. I'll stomp on it until it's good and dead." What? Is that wrong?

Unfazed, she waits for proper answer. "Fine. I'll plant it." And stomp on it until it's good and dead.

"Will you take care of it?"

"Yeah." Yeah, I'll take care--

"Take good care of it?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Coyses, foiled again.

So there it is, Mom. Natalie is alive--I think that's alive--and has grown three stems. Should any of the family contract malaria, I will boil Natalie and make her into a quinine tea.

P. Kirby