I hate prissy plants. You know the ones, they need all these special conditions. That’s not my bag baby. A plant is a plant, a plant is not a pet. Maybe it’s just the stage of life I’m in right now, we’ve lived here a year and I’ve made only the most mild effort at planting outdoor plants. My mother in law is way into plants. She brings us a plant nearly every single time she comes over. This fall my husband has had to talk her out of getting us mums at least 4 times “We kill mice at this house mom, we don’t need mums”. My least favorite plants are the prissy ones. I feel as though if you need to go out of your way to keep the plant alive, it’s just not meant to be. Specifically the plants that you’re supposed to move inside during the winter. She brought over this one waist high flowering shrub in a pot. It looked great on our deck over the summer. Then, this fall she announces we need to open our home to this plant? But it’s a shrub? You can’t put it on a table? It can’t fit on the window sill? So it has just been sitting in the dining room in the corner dropping it’s leaves and forcing me to sweep all fall. Today I was mopping the kitchen and sweeping the dining room floor… and the plant had scratched my hardwood floors! The bastard! Ok, now granted, the plant had no control over this, it was someone carelessly moving the pot without picking it up that did it, but the mere presence of this plant in my dining room was enough to ensure it’s guilt in my mind. The plant and I are not on speaking terms at the moment.
I took this picture today of one of the few plants I’ve been gifted that I have not yet managed to kill. This pretty cactus (I like those, they’re very forgiving of my plant-care-habits) Has been with us for a full year now and it’s started blooming once again. It is a small manageable sized plant living oh the kitchen windowsill right by the sink. That’s strategic placement so I remember to water it 😉