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Oscar


Pot plant: Oscar
Reason: Atmosphere in my rooms

The is a play staged by The Duck House about a girl called Claire and a pot plant called Oscar. I never saw it when it was playing, and I really wish I had - I keep on asking Sarah if she will re-stage it sometime, because I really want to see it.

I can only imagine that it would be awesome, and hopefully quite a bit more interesting than my own adventures today with my own Oscar.

The photo above was taken at about 8.45pm tonight, and I am only smiling because home was a mere 5 minutes away. You see, I had left work at 7pm and swung past the residence of a nice Italian lady on Bulwer Street who was selling pot plants. We spent some time deciding what my first pot plant will be, and I finally settled on Oscar. I paid a pittance for him and headed off in the dusk for home.

Then the saga began - I answered my mobile on the corner of Vincent and Fitzgerald Street, my purse fell out of my bag as I walked up Fitzgerald talking on the phone and three minutes later when I reached for my purse I found it was missing. I went back to the corner, no sign of my purse; so I walked through Hyde Park back to the Pot Plant Lady's House but the Pot Plant Lady was not home. It was dark by now so with torch out I was sweeping the ground back to the corner of tragedy, only to get a call on my mobile at exactly the spot where the whole evening had gone pear-shaped. It was the lovely girl who picked up my purse in that tiny three minute window, and I was able to relax finally.

Night had it's hand heavy on my shoulder, so I shifted the hip that Oscar was on and made my frustrated and relieved way home to give him a drink; goddamn dramatic pot plant.

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