Vienīgais, kas man nepatīk burvīgajā hormonu spektrā kāds ir sievietēm ir tas, ka vienu rītu var pamosties un atklāt, ka no ierindas veļas gludināmā dēļa esmu pārvērtusies par Pamelu Andersoni. THE HORROR!

Tas gan man netraucēja pārstādīt puķes, fikuss un Hūlio tika pie jauniem podiem, pelnījis gan bija tikai Hūlio. Zigrīdai nogriezu apmirušās lapas un demonstratīvi aiznesu pēdējā gaitā uz lieko istabu - puķu mūža mājām / rehabilitācijas centru. Lai pārējās skatās un bīstās.
Izdomāju, ka jāpiekopj Krovlija taktika

"In fact the only thing in the flat Crowley devoted any personal attention to were the houseplants.They were huge and green and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves.
This was because, once a week, Crowley went around the flat with a green plastic plant mister, spraying the leaves, and talking to the plants.
He had heard about talking to plants in the early seventies, on Radio Four, and thought it an excellent idea. Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did.
What he did was put the fear of God into them.
More precisely, the fear of Crowley.
In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. "Say goodbye to your friend," he'd say to them. "He just couldn't cut it..."
Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large, empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.
The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified." (Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett)