I made myself a promise (threat) that the next remotely nice day (not hot or cold, but ok it could be raining) that I was not doing anything (couldn’t make up an excuse) I would repot the plants.
The only thing label I deserve less than plant-owner (or maybe homeowner. Employee. Pet-owner. parent… what were we talking about….? close parentheses
I have 3 plants. All over the house. 2 I inherited from a former roommate and the 3rd I bought on a whim to prove I was the kind of person who could adorn her home and her sphere of care-giving with plants. That one is usually completely dead, but I can’t bring myself to throw out the 2 pots of it. The other I did rescue from dead about a dozen years ago where it had been left to make the best of it on the back porch.
It is one of these – whatever they are --
but it looks like this
“This tree needs you indeed.” This tree needed the compassion of the Oregon state legislature.
It has grown to several versions of itself, spindly trunk and all, in pots that sit on the floor around the house because I can’t figure out how plants are supposed to work. When they look like they are dying, I water them. In exchange, they probably exhale sulfur dioxide.
The 3rd plant is a tree of unknown quality that I took off this same roommate when she downsized/upscaled into the city. It was so unhappy in my house, it required raking after. And this recent weekend I decided to cut it back, an effort which quickly turned into “oh the hell with it.” I chopped it to smithereens and put it on the curb. I kept the pot. Why throw out the bathwater with the baby?