once upon a time when I lived in a little flat above Victoria Avenue, my dear, dear friend Clare bequeathed to me a little potted rose. she said something about houseplants making quite good company. it was fun to have that pot in my windowsill. it bloomed soft, miniature red roses and poked its green leaves at the yellow curtains.
that was the first houseplant I ever took care of.
I cannot remember what happened to it.
I may have given it back to Clare when I left England. maybe I will ask her if she remembers.
then there were my jade plants, which still live here with me in this desert place. they have, since Christmas of 2009 when I acquired them, grown up very well and now claim separate pots. there are glimpses of them in various past posts, and here are some photos from yesterday.
how old must they be now? three and a half whole years?
don't they look so grown up?
both pots somehow got knocked off the railing out back a few months ago, so their soil is a bit loose and some of their leaves have been chipped or broken. this guy (below) is especially bare, but there are brand new bits growing out where things broke off, which is exciting.
maybe I should give my plants names?
do people do that?
anyway--since I had a bunch of broken off leaves, and since over a year ago I'd come across this lovely website about propagating succulents and wanted to try it, I used the mysterious tragedy of the fallen pots as an opportunity.
I guess you might say it was a pair of tragedies, actually. the second tragedy involved a pair of shoes and happened without much mystery and over a much longer period of time. the match to this little brown heel slowly started to crack, right at the ball of my foot, and every time it rained I remembered that these poor shoes should probably be taken out of my closet for good.
I couldn't quite bear to part with the non-cracked one, though. these have been the loveliest, most comfortable dressy dancing shoes. still, just shoes, I know--but I loved this pair. they were rather gorgeous, in their simple way. so I'm using the intact one for a pot.
I learned all the tips and tricks I know about regrowing broken succulent plants from the woman who writes at Succulents and Sunshine, Cassidy Tuttle. she even put together an ebook all about it. her photos are much more beautiful than mine. if I ever write a book that needs photographs, I will probably need to hire a real photographer.
so after drying them out and letting them sit and counting on my wonderful roommates to sprinkle them with water while I was away last month (thank you, thank you, Cathy and Melanie), I now see little sprouts appearing at the ends of a few broken leaves. the larger cutting is putting out little roots.
I have no idea if the shoe-planter will work long-term for these little things. the dirt in it is pretty shallow. but we'll see.
to add to and diversify my plant collection, I acquired a few of these hens-and-chicks from my parents' house. they seem to be doing well in this random pot I found in the backyard.
I added some moss and little crawly weeds from the forest where we camped last weekend. I hope they all survive happily together. I want them all to keep me company when I get to my own brand new, metaphorical terra cotta pot in Indiana.
3 comments:
I think you should definitely name them. But that's coming from someone who has a cushion called Barbara.
I shall have to think of some fitting names... any suggestions?
Rupert
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