It is a terrific shame that my firm doesn't pass out Employee of the Year awards, because I'm feeling that today would be my day.

True, I did forget over the weekend, owing to a series of unrelated events including a cat show, to buy my boss a plant--his single directive to me to accomplish during his week-long absence. I remembered it just as I was walking from my car ("Inky," black 1993 Volvo station wagon) to the building.

As luck would have it, his flight was delayed and he won't be returning til tomorrow, which bought me 24 extra hours in which to buy the wrong plant. Because no matter what, I am guaranteed to choose the wrong plant.

Guaranteed failure being almost as good as guaranteed success--in that there is no ambiguity about the result, so forge ahead, sailor!--I took the company car to the plant store, where I stood for an extended period in their outdoor plant section before realizing that I really needed an indoor plant, and went indoors.

In spite of the rain, I really did prefer my outdoor plant experience. I had all kinds of impractical, certain-to-croak-instantly choices: delphinium, hyacinth, some kind of frilly ballerina-looking thing that would no doubt keel over before I got it to the car.

I loved mehiel's suggestion of rosemary, but the pots available were either tiny or giant, and as the intended spot for the plant is overhead, I shied away from anything capable of fracturing a skull.

I left with some indeterminate pink-and-green leafy thing that is certain to irritate my boss (due to the pink), but which will do until I quit. Then, I bought myself a bright magenta geranium and a six-pack of deep-blue lobelia, and put them in pots out on my balcony. It is pouring rain still, and when I came back inside, I heard multiple peeps emanating from the canopy, where finches have built a secret nest, and in which secret babies now live. I hope they're dry. They seem all right. Maybe I'll go poke at them and see what they do. Peep! Peep!

Star of the day. . .Holling Clancy Holling