Dear C,
Wonderful to hear how the green shoots of economic regrowth are sprouting up in the Village in my absence, especially since the talk here in London is all doom and gloom these days, and that's not just when the locals are discussing the weather. May I be the first to place an order for the fruits of eldest cherub's first harvest? Speaking as someone who can barely keep her own children fed and watered, let alone a houseplant, I find it admirable that your son appears to take such a keen interest in horticulture; and even more so, that you would be so willing to drive him to the back of beyond in order to nurture his budding talent. Like me and everyone else in the Village, you must have noticed the strange, jungle-like growth and midnight lights emanating from the garage of our neighbor and renowned conservative columnist; the man who likes to preach the folly of government-sponsored bailouts for GM, while apparently engaging in a little healthy GM crop activity of his own? Surely, it would have been easier and cheaper to ask him to lend a hand to eldest son's admirable engagement in private enterprise, rather than bothering yourself? The latter approach might also have the additional advantage of absolving you of any responsibility, when the Village police call round, as they inevitably will, to inquire whether son has the necessary licensing and permits. I think even our columnist friend would agree that Mother Nature can more easily afford to lose an aspiring member of the local food movement than your father and the remaining cherubs can afford to lose the woman who does everything for them.
P.
