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The other day the doorbell rang. It was our mailman, Mr. Kim, and, as he handed me my mail, he inquired where my plumeria was. The plumeria had been on the front porch since our move and it had not been a happy plant since being uprooted from Bakersfield.
It turns out that Mr. Kim is also a plumeria fan and he was worried that the poor plant had finally bought the farm. I told him that I had moved the ailing plant indoors since its leaves had begun to fall off. Mr. Kim informed me that he always brings his plumeria indoors as soon as the weather turns cold.
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I'm sure I was just imagining the slight air of disapproval as the grilling continued--had I placed the plumeria in a warm place? Oh yes--I'd put it in the bathtub. Was it getting enough light there? I thought it was--it was under a window. Well, what about moisture? It is next to the shower and I mist it regularly.
We chatted a bit more about the beauty of plumeria and I was hoping he didn't ask to see the plant for himself. Is there a watchdog committee for plumeria abuse? If there is, I'm in big trouble. What I would never admit to Mr. Kim is this is how my poor plumeria looks now.
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Actually, I've not been having the best luck with plants in the new digs. As I have in the last 4 h
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Mr. T., being the good sport he is, went out in the rain and replanted the tree. It was not to be. The next morning the tree had once again fallen completely on its side. And that is where it remains. I had told Senor Jacob, the gardener, that I wasn't entirely pleased with the shape of the blue spruce--I'd wanted something more along the line of Árbol de navidad--instead of the scraggly, free-form spruce.
I see I have some major image repair to do in this neighborhood.
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