Miss Marble, a witch, of 46 Grimace Street, surveyed her garden and was displeased by what she saw.
It was a disgrace in her eyes. The weeds had well and truly taken over and what herbs there were left to survive looked sad and far from healthy.
At one time she had been obsessive about her garden having developed a number of potions to assist in the growth of her garden. Her herbs were essential when it came to making potions, which were always in demand.
What had happened, she pondered?
The growth potions had worked wonders on the weeds, which flourished at the expense of her valuable herbs.
A witch’s garden was worth nothing if it didn’t produce the herbs needed in her everyday work.
There was only one thing left for her to do. In her back shed where her cauldrons bubbled away most days she kept the one potion she feared to use.
Ironically it was called “weed wonder” a herbicide she’d developed long ago but had put away once she saw the devastation it produced. It would level the garden of everything. She’d have to start over.
She made sure her seed collection was up to date and set about propagating the seeds. She waited a few days to make sure the seeds had struck.
Once there was evidence of green popping out of each pot, she took the ‘weed wonder’ and sprayed it over her ailing garden.
There were a few painful cries from the weeds that were expected since they believed they had dominance in the garden, but within minutes the garden was a wasteland.
Miss Marble waited three weeks during which time her seeds grew into seedlings, and she was able to plan her new garden.
Late at night under the gaze of a full moon, she tilled her garden patch, each time she added some growth potion to the soil and by the time the three weeks were up she was happy the soil was ready to greet her seedlings.
Once in the rich garden soil, the seedlings grew rapidly, and before long, her garden was prolific, rich and very green.
She surveyed her work and felt pleased with her effort. Peeling off her gardening gloves, she went straight to her shed to see which potion had been ordered.
The advent of the Internet and on-line ordering had increased her workload, and even though there had recently been a lull in matters due to a nasty virus circulating the country, she threw herself into the task.
Humming away to herself, she set her cauldron to rapid boil and set about producing the requested potion, “a happiness elixir’ for a wizard out of town.
As she worked to fulfil her order, she thought about the virus and considered what she might be able to do to combat it as it was causing so much havoc.
“I must consult my potions book, there’s bound to be something in there after all these virus in one form, or other have been around since forever,” said to herself as the cauldron reached a fever pitch.