I kill plants. Not on purpose. I have recently concluded that I have a tendency to over-water my plants. I should've learned that a long time ago when a plant I was killing at my station suddenly thrived when the snow kept us away from the station for a couple months. Despite what my resume says, I can sometimes be a slow learner.
Because I'm deeply saddened by the current state of my Nerve Plant (fittonia), we won't talk about that yet. Instead, let's talk about my leggy China Doll Plant. Apparently legginess is not a positive characteristic in plants, regardless of how it's viewed in humans. My China Doll Plant was not looking super spunky, so I did some Googling and decided it may be slightly "leggy" and needed a little more light. I positioned it near the balcony window, got it a bigger pot, and gave it some water (more water). I went to Home Depot to purchase more plants and more pots. I came across a China Doll Plant. I now get what leggy means. My plant has what my dad would call chicken legs (he always called me that). The plant in Home Depot was full and bushy. Hmm. My plant currently has leaves curling under.... a symptom of over-watering. Go figure.
My friend Carrie, who has an amazing green thumb, gifted me with a couple pots for my balcony railing. She wasn't able to put drainage holes in them since it would only drain to my neighbor's balcony below me. As she handed them over, she assured me it was fine if I killed them. I detected a resigned sadness in her voice. I did my best.
The Great Flood of December 6th, 2018 annihilated those plants... and others that were on my balcony. Pots filled to the brim under hours of deluge. Days passed before I realized they were drowning. I could put a goldfish in a few of the pots and it would probably thrive. I drilled drainage holes in the pots from Carrie and winced as putrid smelling water drained out for an hour.
By some strange miracle, there is still a little green in those pots. I have no idea how long they'll last.
Ok, let's talk about the Nerve Plant. Not only was it one of the flood victims... it is also apparently a tropical plant (also a gift from Carrie). I know this now that it has been subjected to near freezing temperatures (post flood). I have brought it indoors and pruned it. It does not seem impressed.
My Christmas Cactus that Mike got me about a year and a half ago (which turns out is actually a Thanksgiving Cactus), is my longest living plant ever. I decided to Google the care for this guy who continues to thrive despite my inadequacies. Turns out he doesn't like cold temperatures either. I pulled him inside for the night. We'll be down near freezing again tonight, and I'll be damned if I kill another plant.
I have invested in more succulents and a couple indoor "trees". I'm also attempting to grow oak trees from the sprouted acorns I collected in Mike's mom's yard. Every day I check them for movement. That's my issue... I expect more action from my plants. They aren't doing much. Having an actual pet is not for me (for various reasons) and my plants are not active enough for me to feel like I can leave them alone. I poke and prod them daily to inspire new growth. I'm not sure they like that. The baby Chinese Money Plant that I detached from its mother and put in a tiny pot is looking like it's not going to make it. Too much water, I've concluded. It's mother has received too much water as well, but she may be hardy enough to survive.
So I'm now working on training myself to leave my plants alone. I bought a coffee plant when I was at Mike's house (its name is Mr. Coffee, although Mike insists on calling it Sanka), and so now Mike is in charge of keeping the plant alive until he moves down here with it. At first I was apprehensive and told him several times not to kill it. The thing is, Mike neglects plants. He leaves them alone. He lets them be. Mr. Coffee is probably a lot safer with him than he'll ever be with me.
As I sit in my living room and stare at all my plants, I hear my friend Debbie's voice, scolding her golden retriever. "Leave it!"
"Leave it!" I tell myself as I'm tempted to prune or adjust or (god forbid) water my plants. I'm just going to not touch them for awhile and see how they do. They're just not very interactive and I may have to learn to accept that.
