Sunday, December 4, 2011

There is always a first time. For everything.

My mom is very fond of plants. All kinds. And she is good with them too. She instinctively knows what to do to heal a plant that is sick. But for the longest time she did not have a garden of her own. We lived in a third floor apartment, so a garden was pretty much out of question. Mum had her two money-plants and she tended to them. We also used to  water them once a day and shade them from the scorcher in summers.
Then around 2006 we moved to a bigger house and my mom got the 'garden' she wanted. The whole outside was tiled when we bought the house, and not wanting to break up a good thing, we passed on the idea of having a lawn. Most plants were potted. BIG pots!
So now there are a zillion potted plants and mum absolutely loves sitting out on the swing among her beloved green babies. And I guess they all love her too!

Not so long ago, I also felt like getting some plants for my apartment. Just one of those mom things that daughters like to do :)
So one fine Sunday, shopping for some living room furniture, I purchased a parlor palm from Ikea, and felt OhSoBrave doing it!

My first plant.
It was beautiful, green and grew really well for a couple of months.
I doted on it.
So much so that I over watered and killed it! :(

Not an encouraging first step at all.
Pardon my french, but where the hell was that beginner's luck y'all talk so much about?!

In time I got over it and got a second plant - a small money-plant (or 'pothos' as they call it here) this time.
I was very judicious with the love I showed to this one.
But! During a regular watering rendezvous, I saw that it had the tiny white creepy-crawlies.

I went to the Home Depot and consulted the nursery person. He gave me a spray-spray which promised to get rid of the bugs and feed my plant. I put my plant out in the patio, and sprayed as indicated. Not wanting the insecticide/pesticide fumes in my house, I thought I'd leave the plant out overnight.
And you know what happened?
The temperature dropped forty degrees overnight. My poor plant wilted and all the leaves went black.
With stinging eyes I brought it in the next morning and set it on the counter. I had to get to work so I left it at that. When I got home in the evening, all but one tiny leaf - the youngest, was dead.

I was officially in mourning. Miss Brown thumb. A really sullen Miss Brown Thumb.

But I did not give up on the tiny one.
And the tiny one did not give up on me.
Today, two years later, that one leaf has grown into this.

I guess it does not grow as fast as my other pothos plant - you know, the one I did not almost kill. But hey, I am not complaining :)

Today I have over a dozen plants in my house, all thriving.

I guess you make mistakes and you learn as you go.
And unless you are skydiving, there'll always be a next time.

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