and, much like a politician tries to cloak stuff in patriotism, I go so far as to envoke a higher power. Well, politicians do that too, of course.

Anyway, here follows the memo I sent to the Uber-boss this morning.....

Subject: Death of the Poinsettias (High Church Version)

Here's the story....

Lo, it was The Feast of Saint Stephen (that's today) and the Sales Assistant came into The Office and Behold, there was the Angel of Death.

And the Sales Assistant sayeth "Holy Smoke, I thought it was just a cold!"

And the Angel sayeth unto the Sales Assistant "Peace, I have not come for Thee, but for these poinsettias, which suffer terribly in their pots."

And the Sales Assistant beheld the poinsettias and saw that, indeed, they did suffer terribly. For their leaves were wilted, their petals had fallen and they were drooping over even unto the point of death.

But the Sales Assistant said unto the Angel of Death, "Can nothing be done to save them? For I have cared for them most tenderly. I have watered them faithfully. I have removed them away from the heat of the fireplaces. Faithfully, I have trimmed their leaves. I have rotated them in and out of the sunlight. I have fretted over them and offered prayers for them."

And the Angel replied, "Behold, they are but fragile. All of their leaves are about to falleth off. And this one by the door smelleth kinda weird."

And the Sales Assistant sniffed, and this was So.

Still, she said unto the Angel of Death. "Is there nothing I can do to stay thy hand? For the boss has spent much gold upon them and she may be really pissthed off if they do not last unto the New Year."

But the Angel of Death said "Unto everything there is a season and, Who are you trying to Kiddeth? These suckers have had it." Whereupon The Angel reached out his hand and slew the poinsettias.


So I threw them out.

No kidding - they really were awful looking.