Chris Brady
... But you can't make her think.
... But you can't make her think.
We all know that Dorothy Parker wasn't talking about plants, she was teasing us with word play, but as a plant nerd, I have always loved that line. This post isn't about easy women or women writers -- it's about my life with plants.
As I've started to minimize the stuff in my house to prepare for the eventual downsizing some five or so years from now, there's one category that keeps growing: my tropical plant collection.There are more than 55 at the moment -- in a not very big 7-room house.
I rarely buy new plants anymore; it’s mostly that I am sustaining and propagating them. I've lived with some of these plants for more than 30 years, and several are shopping mall BIG. It’s looking like a jungle in the "Winter Garden, " a four-seasons room we built on the garage roof in 2001 to create a light filled sanctuary for ourselves (and the plants). The plants move closer to my couch every year. I imagine myself in a New Yorker comic, an old lady being swallowed up by greenery.
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| Saturday morning in the winter garden |
Tropical plants are therapy for me. Watering them takes about an hour every weekend. They have been a constant in my life, undemanding for the most part, a welcoming and peaceful presence.
My oldest is a tree philodendron I call Betty, from my mother-in-law’s Scranton house. I recall seeing this plant as early as 1974, and it was big then. I adopted her sometime in the 80s when Betty was moving to Florida. My plant book warns that these kids need space, and Betty is living up to that reputation at six feet high and equally wide. Like her namesake, she is indomitable.
A 7-foot tall Norfolk Island pine I call Sven started out as a six-inch mini Christmas tree from Ikea some 20 years ago. It still has three feet before it hits the glass ceiling, which will probably take another 15 years, so I’m safe for now.
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| Aunt Ann |
“Tootsie” is a Dieffenbachia that I rescued from my
sister-in-law’s condo after her death. It amuses me that this was the only
plant in her house, nicknamed “dumb cane” because it numbs your tongue if you
eat it. Tootsie was never at a loss for words.
I could go on with the stories of my heritage plants, but I’ll stop at four. Not every plant has a story – at least not yet. Someday, I will move to smaller space and give away my collection – perhaps to my son, nieces and nephews, grandchildren or others who have an interest and space and thirty years to keep them until the next caretaker.
I could go on with the stories of my heritage plants, but I’ll stop at four. Not every plant has a story – at least not yet. Someday, I will move to smaller space and give away my collection – perhaps to my son, nieces and nephews, grandchildren or others who have an interest and space and thirty years to keep them until the next caretaker.
I hope that they’ll enjoy the peace and oxygen that plants give us and maybe as I do, they’ll remember the person who nurtured it for the first few decades. If you are a plant nerd like me, read the latest work by Elizabeth Gilbert (author of Eat, Pray, Love) called The Signature of All Things. I learned so much about botany from hanging out with this book for a week. Great characters too.
Do you have plants that have traveled with you from college
dorm to apartment to house one and house 2?
What’s your story?
I always envied your patience with plants. I've either over-watered or under-watered. I killed a pony tail palm that supposedly only needs water once a year. Even my silk plants have died. You would think that someone like me who sweats the small stuff would be able to develop a plant care routine? I guess they are just not one of the living things that rate high on my list of important things? I would like to think that I value them so much that, like animals, they belong in the wild. Well, enough rationalization for one day!
ReplyDeleteJulie V
Julie, I'm laughing at the irony that super-nurse killed a plant that only needs water once a year :)
DeleteJulie, I laughed out loud that you killed a silk plant. I have a recommendation for you from my bonsai hobby days. There's a hobby called Suiseki-- it's the display of stones in a natural setting. I'm sure even you can't kill a stone.
DeleteChris, I love that your plants have family history. I'm not big on house plants anymore-although, for the last couple of years, I've wintered over our coleus inside.
ReplyDeleteI do have day lilies in our front and back garden that came from the house where I grew up. My mom used to call them "her grandbaby flowers" when she visited. There's something so special about owning a plant that someone you cared about, cared about.
Carol, You have the living connection to the past through something that lives on. I love that aspect of the plant. Somehow it seems different to me than an inorganic thing.
DeleteI'm like Julie above--once killed a cactus by under-watering. But I love the way your plants have names and personalities. I have a friend of more than 50 years' duration who is a plant person. In our grade school a popular project was to prop up a piece of sweet potato in a container of water. Hers thrived for many years, almost taking over her bedroom. I sent her a link to your post.
ReplyDeleteLinda, You just gave me another plant project with that sweet potato idea. It's fun that you remembered your plant loving pal. Thanks for sharing.
DeleteChris, I love this post. So fun to think about how plants, like dogs, can mirror their owners. I have a geranium that has lasted 8 years on my windowsill - that still amazed me, as I tend to have a brown thumb. We bought our house from my great aunt, and I think of her every spring when her tulips come up, and her irises. That always makes me smile. I also have a shamrock plant that I gave my Grandmom on her last St. Patrick's Day. I love having that Irish reminder with me in the kitchen as I make her recipes.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great post! I laughed at the New Yorker cartoon image...and the loving names. I am not big on house plants, but I have a plumeria that I have cultivated since my last trip to Hawaii in 2007 and a couple of poinsettias that have lived through 2 Christmases...one even gave me red blooms again. When I bought my house in Cape May, it came with over 100 daffodils and a huge lilac bush, as well as some ancient rosebushes. I added daylilies and a veggie garden. Now that I am moving back to Cape May full time, the first thing I have done is resurrect my veggie patch and flower beds for next spring. For me, plants...indoors and out...mean hope. Sounds like you have more than an armload of hope!
ReplyDeleteMary, I bow with respect to anyone who has overwintered a poinsettia and achieved red blooms. I love Cape May gardens. Hope I can visit yours someday. Chris
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