Lulu-belle brought her complaints directly to the Face of Everyman. There needs to be more flowers grown near the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. She shouldn’t be expected to raise a family on the nectar set out in feeders. That stuff was mostly colored dreck. The venerable sage wasn’t sure how he was involved but promised the young mother that he would look into the matter. Perhaps the florist shop in the posh arcade had something more nourishing than a wilted corsage. He could hope.