Travel Reference
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“Well, personally, I'd go for things horses don't like.”
“Makes sense,” I agreed. “And what would that be?”
“Prickly stuff.”
“Such as?”
“Hmm…” she said. “Not really my department. Ask the nursery lady.”
Señora Arte Tropicale
greeted us warmly, if somewhat distractedly, the next morning.
Sounds of high drama emanated from her living room.
She listened sympathetically to our problem, and was all too delighted to sell us a car-
load of horse-proof plants.
Our reconstituted garden looked beautiful. Better still, our neighborhood horses took
one look, tossed their glossy manes indignantly and moved on to more palatable pastures.
Another small victory for our side.
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