I’ve just got back from visiting Poppy in her lovely new house. She made a delicious dinner and while it was cooking we sat and chatted with her new housemates in their cosy kitchen.

As usual my tics were mostly about hedgehogs and biscuits, but they suddenly turned their attention to the plant that was sitting on the table.

Regular readers will know about my longstanding obsession with Leftwing Idiot’s geranium. Ever since it arrived in his flat two years ago I’ve ticced about it with relentless malice.

Tonight Poppy’s azalea joined the exclusive club of plants my tics have turned against:

“At least your not a geranium, azalea.”
“Stop being a geranium, azalea.”
“Geranium pink azalea.”
“Azalea, what about sitting in the basement?”

I went on ticcing about the poor azalea as Poppy wheeled me back to the castle. She assures me that though my tics might object to the shocking pink flower in her new place, we won’t have to worry about their other obsession, lamp-posts, because there aren’t any nearby.

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