It is a beautiful transformation; a scenery of greenery.
I am speaking of the office plants, those succulent and sappy soothers of our dizzy day.
There have been varying methods of keeping workers happy. Piped music which helps you to face the other kind. Lunchtime jogging to calcify your calves.
At one stage we went through the fish tank and golden carp stage, the mini-aquarium sprightly with oxygen bubbles, shining shells and drowned figurines.
Often I sat there fishing for a few compliments but with no luck except for a couple of nibbles from a secretary and a bite from the boss.
So now it’s the sylvan scenario, the wild cry of the office birds through the shrubbery. One can sit lunching indoors among the greenery and it’s one hell of a place for garden salad.
Every day there seems a new triffid ogling us from its pot. I began with a miniature palm tree but I got sick of people leering at me and saying “Hullo, old sweaty palms.”
My particular pet at present is a slightly sinister climbing plant that has been hanging around my desk in a most suspicious manner.
“It will grow on you,” said the chief. And frankly that’s what I’m afraid of.
I can’t define its sex exactly but when I hissed at it, “You give me the creeps, Virginia,” it trembled with excitement and for a moment we held tendrils.
Certainly there are problems with all this foliage. Yesterday the office boy had to summon me. It took him an hour to cut his way to my desk.
The chief, mind you, is satisfied with his pot plant. It’s a sort of large bush and he’s constantly beating around it.
Visitors find it all a bit perplexing. People were being shown over the office and naturally I was pointed out to them.
“That’s Max and his vegetation. Both of them are pretty dense.”
The young woman at the next desk has pronounced her love for her Monstera Deliciosa. As they get to know each other better she may also learn how to pronounce Monstera Deliciosa.
One secretary was so upset this week when they removed her pet plant. I’ve never seen such tender leaves-taking.
Still, I hardened my heart, “Keep out of my woods, babe,” I hissed to her. She’s now had to take pot luck with an aspidistra.
Already our office jungle is attracting outside interest. For instance, naturalists are concealing themselves in the undergrowth around our water cooler to watch us coming down to drink.
One female person brought a man-eating plant and placed it on her desk. Well, it’s certainly among friends.
Our business people report that it has been a year of expansion, a year of real growth. You can say that again. I’m getting tired of people appearing out of the bushes and presuming, I’m Dr Livingstone.
Meanwhile it’s business as usual and green grow the rushes, oh.
And, if you can’t come into the garden, Maud, I’ll see you down at the plant!
Max Fatchen