Ever since walking past the window of Ten Thousand Villages in Highland Park yesterday - when it was closed for Easter - I had been fantasizing about purchasing this canvas yucca plant: a wonderful whirligig of off-white imitation leaves, with a tangled purity and simplicity to it. Just the thing, I'd thought, for the plant stand on the turn of the stairs, which has had a very depressed (live) plant on it for a while, that (understandably) doesn't quite want to die, but doesn't feel very happy about growing.
So I calculated very carefully how much time I would need, and whether I could fit in a quick shopping trip between their opening time and a meeting I was heading for, and rolled up just after ten a.m., half anticipating a long line of people with exactly the same object of desire. I picked it up. No price tag. I asked the not-very-helpful sales staff. It wasn't for sale. It was designed to draw people into the store. Where could I get one? Where had they obtained it from? "They made it." Who "they" might be wasn't specified - but "they are very artistic." In fact, there's a web site that offers canvas yuccas, but they look a little less exuberant than this one. I'll think about it. Disconsolate, I had to console myself with stealing its likeness through the store window.