Willow’s friend was Michelle. Michelle didn’t have a clue about gardening but would go into her garden and plant things, and pull out weeds, and water this and that.
“I don’t have a clue what most of the flowers are called,” said Michelle, “but I know that they are very pretty.”
“You should go to night school like I did,” said Willow. “That way you’d learn something and be an expert and become a better gardener.”
“Look at these lovely crocuses!” exclaimed Michelle. “They flower in the Fall. They are different from the ones that flower in the Spring.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Willow. “Crocuses flower in the Spring. They are one of the first flowers to make an appearance after Winter. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Oh how shallow it is to be a night-school-class graduate-in-horticulture-over-a-six-week-period! Those who know everything know nothing. Willow knew it all. She had nothing in her garden. Michelle knew nothing. Her garden was a picture.
[I know some of you will be disappointed in the lack of excitement in today’s yarn. For those who prefer something spicier, he is an alternative ending:
Willow was consumed with jealousy over Michelle’s beautiful garden. After a friendly salad luncheon at Michelle’s place, Willow suddenly opened her purse and pulled out a pistol. She pulled the trigger and Michelle slumped to the ground. As Michelle lay dying she was heard to exclaim, “Ha! Ha! Ha! I poisoned the salad!”]
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