That’s the quote inscribed on a 6” purple glazed ceramic flower pot on my desk. Its rim bears bright orange stripes, in between which are embedded amethyst-colored rhinestones. Little ceramic ladybugs are stuck around it here and there. It was a gift from my BFF.
Why is that worth comment today? Well, it started when I watered the contents this morning: a Boston fern whose luxuriant fronds have been kinda puny of late. In fact, I noted as the water flooded the pot’s matching saucer and streamed over my cordless phone and recently printed document, it’s dead. For months it’s been shedding crinkly brown stuff all over the place. But as long as the tips remained green, I remained in denial.
No more. It took three towels to sop up the mess. I had to change the vacuum bag to finish sucking up the accumulated plant droppings, including the trail from desk to bathroom. The decaying fern has been transplanted to a doubled plastic grocery bag and consigned to the trash. I may as well admit that in the process I managed to knock over a quart bottle of water. I have two of them sitting open to allow harmful chemicals to evaporate before watering plants. Another towel, please.
But obviously such a remarkable purple pot must not remain empty. Elsewhere on my desk is a coffee mug which, due to a slight crack, is being used as a planter. Actually, the cup is no longer visible under the cascading tangle of some tiny-leafed succulent. Aha! Way past due for a transplant.
In this larger vessel, the plant leaves the Ulrich quote plainly visible, which I like. But it’s a very different effect. My wonderful pot, instead of being graced by regal branches of Boston fern, now looks more like a chia pet.
Well, I suppose if everything behaved properly, nothing would be written in history books, eh?
Why is that worth comment today? Well, it started when I watered the contents this morning: a Boston fern whose luxuriant fronds have been kinda puny of late. In fact, I noted as the water flooded the pot’s matching saucer and streamed over my cordless phone and recently printed document, it’s dead. For months it’s been shedding crinkly brown stuff all over the place. But as long as the tips remained green, I remained in denial.
No more. It took three towels to sop up the mess. I had to change the vacuum bag to finish sucking up the accumulated plant droppings, including the trail from desk to bathroom. The decaying fern has been transplanted to a doubled plastic grocery bag and consigned to the trash. I may as well admit that in the process I managed to knock over a quart bottle of water. I have two of them sitting open to allow harmful chemicals to evaporate before watering plants. Another towel, please.
But obviously such a remarkable purple pot must not remain empty. Elsewhere on my desk is a coffee mug which, due to a slight crack, is being used as a planter. Actually, the cup is no longer visible under the cascading tangle of some tiny-leafed succulent. Aha! Way past due for a transplant.
In this larger vessel, the plant leaves the Ulrich quote plainly visible, which I like. But it’s a very different effect. My wonderful pot, instead of being graced by regal branches of Boston fern, now looks more like a chia pet.
Well, I suppose if everything behaved properly, nothing would be written in history books, eh?
2 comments:
The Chia pet with style, yet not so well behaved it seems. Fitting for it's pot no the less. :)
Very true, my friend, and getting worse by the day! Its larger home has induced such euphoric growth I shall need to get it to a barber soon...
Post a Comment