Looking back on my life, I believe one of the greatest challenges I ever had to face was when I found myself in possession of a glut of leeks. It was the first – so far the only – time fate brought me to such a pass, so it is no wonder that I was at sixes and sevens. And let me assure you that I had many, many more leeks than six or seven. I had a glut of them, and I did not know what to do.
With hindsight, I can see clearly that I was wholly unprepared. But that was not something I wished to admit to myself, in my vigorous youth. Living as I did in a fool’s paradise, I thought there was nothing I could not achieve. In spite of my perplexity, I was confident I could find some use for a glut of leeks before they began, as cruel nature demanded, to rot.
I tried out various schemes, some seemingly sensible, others wild and unhinged. No matter what I did, I was making no serious depredations to the glut. The leeks I had were countless, so I did not attempt to count them. The glut remained a glut.
Then, one day, I received news of an impending visit from my spiritual adviser, lifestyle coach, and tobogganing partner, the dwarf Crepusco. Heaven forfend, I thought, that he should have to fight his way through a glut of leeks simply to reach the armchair I reserved for him anent the radiator. (Crepusco suffered dreadfully from the cold.) Thus it was that I cobbled together a sort of pulley system and hoisted each and every leek in the glut up from the floor so it dangled from the ceiling.
Unfortunately, so low was my ceiling in that place at that time, that I, being taller than a dwarf, found myself, when standing, in the midst of dangling vertical leeks. My vision was occluded, and I had to jostle my way through them blindly. No such terrors for the dwarf Crepusco, who sailed past me, sat himself in the armchair, and, as I had hoped he would, dispensed advice.
“As your spiritual adviser,” he said, “I have nothing to say. As your tobogganing partner, I note we are due to make a run down a mighty crevasse next Thursday. And as your lifestyle coach, let me just say that I am deeply impressed by your innovative interior design initiative. A room with hanging leeks in profusion is both piquant and leeky, and is that not a combination anyone sensitive to interior design would kill for?”
I blundered against the dado rail, doing myself a mischief, but I had to acknowledge his wisdom.
Some while later, of course, the leeks did rot, but by then I had made a name for myself as a piquant and leeky interior designer, and I never looked back.