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Llamas
May 7th, 2008 by witherow
My sister Heidi said she wouldn’t read my blog unless I used the word “llama”.
So here goes: llama.
I hope this makes you happy, Dee. 
Posted in That's life | | | 1 Comments
Office plants I’ve killed
May 6th, 2008 by witherow
Olivia the orchid is doing quite well, thank you. A thoughtful gift from my friends Brian and Rebecca, Olivia sits by the window, blossoming in the exotic-looking Asian way only an orchid can.
But if Olivia only knew my past history with potted plants, she’d be quivering in her fancy wood bark soil.
It’s not that I don’t mean well. Like with Mel’s plant. My good friend and coworker Mel was leaving and bequeathed to me her desk plant. This plant, who we’ll call “Spike” (because that was his name) was some kind with long, skinny leaves (that is the technical botanical description). He did quite well for a while. But then he got ambitious, forgetting his destiny was to be a nice friendly office plant and deciding instead he wanted to be some sort of small tropical bush.
It was about this time that Mel returned and was keenly interested in the welfare of her relinquished plant. So I got him a nice big terra cotta pot. But then he wouldn’t fit on my desk anymore. So Spike moved to the floor of my room. And thus was the beginning of woes.
See, an office plant is usually at eye level. So the probability of it being watered is significantly higher than, say, a plant on the floor by the wall of your room somewhere. The tragic results of these unfavorable odds were revealed one day when Spike’s pot was accidentally knocked over and the soil spilled out like desert sand.
So after a lecture of the importance of moist soil for plants, I began to water Spike faithfully. So faithfully that the soil got waterlogged and the terra cotta began to mold and give my roommate asthma. This was the last straw. I put Spike outside on the porch step so he could think about what he had done.
Two days later, Mel comes to my door with a browning plant, horrified. “Spike is an indoor plant!” she said. “What’s he doing out on the step?”
“He’s being punished,” I answered.
She didn’t think much of this response. So, like some sort of Plant Social Services, she took Spike in, nursed him back to health, and returned him with a warning.
But it went unheeded. Spike then grew not only mold, but he had picked up tiny multi-legged friends while outdoors. Out on the step he went again. And back came the PSS with another warning. Eventually I pawned Spike off on my friend Jessica, who had many plants. I told her I just couldn’t handle this one.
Then there is my current desk plant, the pachira or “money tree”. It too, did well for a while (though it never did grow any money. I checked it every day, but not even a nickel) (but I’m not bitter). It was growing so beautifully. But alas, it too got too big for its britches (or in this case, its ceramic pot). Now, the point of a little tree like this is for it to stay little. I mean, bonsais stay small because they’re kept in a small living space, right? Maybe? So I’m afraid if I get a bigger pot for my pachira, it will start getting ideas and I will walk into work one morning and find a full-grown ficus on my desk. So I staunchly refuse to buy it a bigger pot. It responds by staunchly refusing to stay alive. That, plus a pruning experiment gone awry, has reduced my poor money tree to a long stick with two half-developed bunches of leaves sticking out of the top. It looks like something rejected by Dr. Seuss.
Sigh … so anyway, Olivia is doing quite well. I think as long as I stay on this side of the apartment, and she stays over there, all will be well.
Posted in That's life | | | 3 Comments
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