Down and Dirty

When I left a job recently, the gang I was leaving, in a very nice gesture, gave me a a planter. It had five plants within, each in a small container. The plants looked to be the kind I like--hard to kill. I finally got around to planting them in separate containers today. I realized when I took the planter outside, that I didn't have enough smaller pots to plant them in, so I had to go to the garden center. It's early in the spring season, so there weren't a lot of plants at the garden center. Nor many customers. Normally this would be a good thing for me, I could browse and peruse to my heart's content. However, I really wanted to plant those things and I only had a short window of time, so I skipped the pleasure of sniffing, smelling, reading the little labels, and grabbing things that I probably didn't really need and just got the pots--oh-and some potting soil--and some of those plastic saucers to put under the newly planted vegetation, so when I over zealously water them, it would stay in the saucer and not run all over the floor or carpet. I trundled home and began to separate, dig, water, dig and re-arrange. I did it all outdoors. It was a perfect day for planting and I have to say how pleased I was with the results.

I like plants. I have a few in the house that were presents from others. I have one that was in a planter for my father-in-law before he passed away. It has grown to be a rather large palm, but every time I look at it, I think of him in some way. I have a Christmas cactus that seems to only want to bloom either during Thanksgiving or Easter, but stubbornly refuses to flower at the season of it's name. I have poinsettias still, from this past Christmas. I will plant them after the threat of frost. I like them. And am probably a little absurdly pleased that they haven't died on me as yet. I don't really name my plants--I know that caught you off guard, but there are people who name their plants. They aren't really my pets, per se. They are my hobby I guess. I like the greenery in the house and if they flower, they are really on the top of my list. I have several african violets on the windowsill in the kitchen. They bloom periodically. Last year they bloomed all together, like a cheerleading team. I don't know how that happened, but it doesn't seem to be happening this year. One is blooming and the others are all looking at it askance. I don't know all the kinds of plants they are. That used to bother me, because I had this huge catalog of plant names and characteristics in my head that I could call forth at random. Not anymore. There's too much other stuff in my head these days and there's just no room for philodendrons or phlox. My sister I think is annoyed with me when I can't remember the names of the plants. I was always the "go to" gal with plant info and help. I guess I can't be bothered anymore. Now I just make sure they are get wet if they appear dry and pat them and talk to them once in a while in passing. They get plant food if I remember every few months, but if I forget, well, they seem to be a forgiving lot, so I guess it's okay.

I will be looking at them all over the house, these new comers. Seeing if the light is right for them, moving them to accommodate their idiosyncrasies. I'll talk to them once in a while and make sure the cat doesn't chew on them.

Welcome to the house, guys. May your dirt never dry out!