By Tiber
A neighbor actually returned something we had lost in the flooding. It was the topiary in a pot that Nestor, our gardener, had trimmed to look like Dad‘s face and head.
It doesn’t look much like Dad now.
Of course, Dad never recognized himself in it anyway. Afraid that Nestor might be let go in the financial pinch, Mrs. Brunty, our ever-wise housekeeper, had suggested cutting a topiary to look like Dad.
She didn’t think that Dad would recognize himself in it but that he’d fall in love with Nestor’s work because of a subconscious connection to his own head. And then he wouldn’t fire him. And she was right!
Dad is crazy about that topiary, the “art” one, he calls it.
And now, with it so damaged, he was so afraid that Nestor would not be able to remember such an original piece and be able to reproduce his masterpiece exactly.
Nestor, of course, just took another quick look at Dad’s head and has whipped out another one.
We all get a laugh. Dad is thrilled. And I don’t think Nestor will ever be fired now. Even if the house goes.