Moving

I love plants. Always have and probably always will. I think my love of plants came from watching Tarzan movies when I was a kid and wanting to swing from trees on a vine.

Oddly enough, as an adult, all I eat is plants. Coincidence or design, who knows and who cares.

Anyway, I sold a house last year and with all the stress of packing and selling, I added to it all by fixating on how to get my plants packed safely and moved to my new home. My real estate agent told me that I might want to think about leaving all the plants behind.

“Really?” I said.

“Uh huh. You’d be surprised what a selling point that can be.”

“Plants? How so?”

“Oh, lots of buyers are interested in a house that’s fully fernished.”

I hadn’t thought of that, and I said, “I hadn’t thought of that.” And then, in an effort to make the house more attractive to buyers, suggested that maybe I should leave my old copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Fern, but she said no.

“The recliner and the other living room ferniture?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I suppose my DVD of The Sting starring Paul Newman and Robert Redfern is–“

“That’d be a no.”

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Fern

#NaBloPoMo