Friday, May 4, 2012

Poor Plants

I've been reading recent posts about houseplants with a modicum of interest. 

 (from one of my favorite sites:

Maybe a smidgen more than that.  You see, I love plants.  I like them outside;  I like them inside.  I like them in the rain and on a train...  (too much Green Eggs and Ham.  Sorry)  I like how they liven up a room, and I really like how they clean our air.  I love how they connect me back into God's beautiful world.

Twenty years ago, my mother gave me a few cuttings from her plants.  As a new bride, I carefully started them, and cared for them in our sparse little apartments.  But then a few college moves became a few more, and one move after another, we lost our plants.  They didn't fit in the truck, or they tipped over, or they wouldn't survive the trip so I gave them to neighbors...  I'm still sad about the demise of my plants.

So I bravely tried again.  I bought a few little plants from the store and put them in cheap (but cute) little pots.  I water them when I remember, and try not to remember too often.  And then I remember the real reason why I haven't had plants for the last decade or so:

Yes, that is a dumped-out pot and an uprooted plant.  Poor plant.  I hope it will recover.  (And yes, they had fun playing in the dirt in MY room when they were supposed to be taking a nap.  They are boys, after all!)

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