Perfidious plants are trying to destroy my records

I think my plants are conspiring against me. Yeah, like something from a John Wyndham novel (the rejected first draft), my houseplants seem to have it in for me. Or my records, anyway. The other week it was a big cactus pot spilling dirt and vicious little spikes all over my singles. This week - a new green disaster! Last night I was flicking through my exquisite collection of LPs (all bangers, no duds) when, what do I find - stickiness. A strange gunk on the top edge of about 50 record sleeves. Weird. What's this, I think. Something I've spilt? So much spillage and I didn't even notice?

Well, friends, it was a perfidious plant. Turns out the thick rubbery leaves from one of the window sill plants had been exuding a fine liquid which was apparently dripping on my Joy Division, Railway Children and PiL records. Bloody hell! So, in time-honoured not-at-all-fanatical fashion, as soon as I realise this I immediately had to start cleaning all the records. Even though it was nearly midnight. Hmm ... Holding onto records - holding onto anything - for a long time is no easy matter. Some of these records have been knocking about in my various places of abode for more then 40 years. Like their owner, they're slightly the worse for wear. Despite my best efforts (plastic sleeves, dusting, absolutely no house parties), they're ... deteriorating. Never mind. I will not allow myself to be crestfallen. Though time degrades all and will doubtless get me and the records in the end, I'm not giving up. I'm keeping a close watch on those window sill plants now. The gunk-dispensing plant has been moved out of harm's way and I'm ... alert. Oh, I know what you're thinking. That Niluccio and his stupid records. He thinks it's like The Day Of The Triffids or something. No, not at all! Anyway, here's a nice tune from the time that probably represents the median release date of my under-threat record collection - 1986.