Friday, September 30, 2011

Hope for a black thumb

Some people are great with plants – they seem to be born with some ability to nurture green things. Like my mom. Her houseplants grew so wildly she was forced to throw away their offshoots.

I once thought I’d never be able to grow a plant. Even cacti died in my care. But there was this one plant that flourished despite my feeding it cold coffee (with cream) and stale soda. But then I placed it outside and left it to die one cold, frosty night.

But now, years and years later, I’m actually surprised that not one but no less than five houseplants are alive (and well!) inside my home! Six, if you count the orchid my husband takes responsibility for. What’s changed? Is it newer, better engineered soils? Perhaps. Is it that my desire for fresher air (which houseplants are proven to filter) has increased? Maybe. Or perhaps it’s that I’ve become a mother since my doomed-cacti days and learned how to care for two boys… so perhaps I’ve learned responsibility. Plus, plants are easier to care for than boys... most of the time... though I'd be afraid of what my boys would do after ingesting coffee (cream or no cream).

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