Phyllis Sproot gazed out on what any properly trained gardener in her right mind would deem a nirvana of gardens right here on earth. Spectacular, wasn’t it? So well ordered and perfectly in synch with the canons of gardening, as amended and augmented by herself. Perfect little rectangular, oval, and half-circle plots covered most of her one-acre lot. From them rose legions of flowers—mostly comprising the coreopsis-salvia-hollyhock blend, which Dr. Sproot herself had pioneered in Livia, and even in the rest of the world for all she knew. Here and there were some other flowers and plants. Yucca, for instance, played a strong supporting role. Dr. Sproot’s careful calculations showed that her gardens were 87-percent coreopsis-salvia-hollyhock blend and yuccas, the precise proportion, she had concluded, needed to create nirvana on earth. The remaining 13 percent, of course, were reserved for her token roses and dahlias. There was no need of any others. Dr. Sproot snorted. What a joke those geraniums and spikes had been!
