The Love Plant

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I hate Halloween. The idea of it.  The creepiness of it. I’ve never liked it. Well, that’s not exactly true. I did enjoy trick or treating for candy as a kid. But that was long ago and there’s been a lot of water under the bridge since then. Perhaps I’ve had too much of things that go bump in the night, including ghoulies and ghosties. Literally.

I’d opt out, but stuck as Harry’s right hand man, so to speak, I’m expected to help organize the NIMR Halloween Party. We have a few weeks  till then and hopefully we’ll be at sea, but it doesn’t look like it since that last mission put her in dry-dock.

Angie’s agog with the Shamrocks that Agent Catfish sent Harry. Would you believe they’re purple? I’ve never heard of Purple Shamrocks, and since they also have little black stripes in the leaves, Angie thinks they’re perfect decorations.  Harry, unhappy with the plants, (he was expecting green) has happily agreed to it.

For the life of me, I  still don’t see why he was so upset. They’re nice plants, thriving, even blooming with little purple flowers. They turn toward the sun and fold up at night. It’s like they’re enchanted, but Lola tells me it’s normal for some plants to act that way.  The thing is ( and Lola hasn’t let me forget it) is that they have another name than Purple Shamrocks. They’re also called ‘Love Plants’, and is pestering me as to why I didn’t get any for her. As if I’d even implied I’d wanted any from Cat.

In any case, Harry came down to the cafeteria to see where the party set up will be and actually suggested that the plants sit in front of the punch bowl.  I was even more surprised when the Cafeteria manager refused, saying something about a risk of bugs or something. Perhaps Harry’s getting the Halloween fever that’s growing  around the place. After all, it’s going to be a big party. Staff, families, kids, even some local dignitaries have been invited. It’s a costume affair too, if one feels inclined.

For now, Harry’s ‘ Love Plants’ are sitting on his desk (the only place they can get adequate sunlight), Angie insisted.  But I can tell he’s frustrated. I offered to put them in my office, but he doesn’t want to risk Agent Catfish’s displeasure if she comes visiting. After all, she’s been invited to the party too.

But I’m concerned about this deep funk he’s gotten himself into. I’d hoped to find some real Irish Shamrocks (green ones) at some local nurseries to cheer him up, (he could always put them in his apartment), but no luck. It’s not the season they say, and most snicker that if I want Irish Shamrocks (they give them a long name I can’t even pronounce) that  I should go to Ireland!  Cheech!

On the other hand, the Flying Sub could use a really good tune up….