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Friday, May 26, 2006

The moving life story of a cactus

One December many, many years ago a little cactus and its brothers got purchased by a very thoughtless woman. In case of the little cacti thoughtless to the point of evil.

Like many thoughtless women she is mainly occupied with making cute gestures.
That year she gave all of her birthday guests a little reminder of the nice party they had attended - a cactus. And what with Christmas not being far away she sprayed all the cacti with snow spray. Awwwwwwwwwwwwww, lookey, how cute! Lookey how cute the suffocating cacti look! Awwwwwwww!
I presume the little cactus' brothers all died a slow death, but let us not dwell on this.

One little cactus was given to us, and we - fuming with rage (and getting covered in thorns) - scrubbed the little cactus as gently as humanly possible clean under running warm water. Not all of the spray came off, and some thorns were lost, but after a long period of waiting and watching the little cactus it became clear that it had survived.

It started growing, further cracking up the spray remains and enlarging the clean surface areas. Brave little cactus!
All those years it slowly grew, but it never came to real health. It grew very crooked and with a "waist" that was way too slim for it.
One fatal day not too long ago the not so little anymore cactus fell off the window sill, breaking in two!

Not wanting to give up on the more healthy upper part of the cactus yet, our father tried planting it into a flowerpot. And it survived.
And now, after all these years, this upper part brought forth its first blooms ever.

the two halves

We never would have thought it from the bedraggled and crippled way the cactus used to look, but the blooms proved it to be our third (and fourth?) Königin der Nacht (Queen of the night).

And - lo and behold! - last night the little cactus opened its very first bloom. I suppose the others will follow suit tonight.

And it's not even alone in this timid display of its beauty and fragrance, one of the older ones was keeping it company, opening three of its blooms that same night:

the ones who never knew snow spray

Monday, May 01, 2006

A bit of art...


Hard rock for others
Quicksand for herself
That’s what she’s been
She thinks - at least
Good friend to turn to
Ethics to scoff at

Shoulder to cry on
Friendship to count on
Then to switch off
Once they find love
No time to listen
To her anymore

Always too silent
Hoping that good friends
Will understand
Thoughts half spoken
Should they be able?
She always wonders

Never a bad word
Clinging to feelings
That seem long dead
But even so
There is a limit
To what she can bear

As she grows older
But none the wiser
Loyalties shift
Attitudes change
She stares in wonder
For here she stands - alone