Saturday, November 30, 2019

Nurturing

I kill plants. I do. It's a sad, sad thing to look at the ponytail palm in our living room, with its measly covering of green and mostly brown, drooping leaves. Outside plants fare somewhat better, although I haven't yet figured out how to get our wisteria to bloom (sulphate fertilizer, apparently, is the key?) and each time that shoots reappear in spring, I am surprised and inordinately pleased.

I am gearing up to a new goal for 2020: try to keep green things alive. A friend of mine, the Decider, has an apartment that is lush in its greenery and fills me with envy; she clearly is pained by our state of affairs, albeit gracious enough to generally keep her thoughts to herself. I, for one, conveniently blame my lack of care on the lack of light.

But no more! I have taken steps (all of which I shall post-fact put into my planner to make me feel accomplished) toward success. I have subscribed to a delightful newsletter, Houseplant Parenthood, and will try to take on board the benefits of the earned wisdom there (and on the corresponding IG account); the Decider has also shown me a delightful app that reminds you when and how your plants need watering and fertilizing and generally being taken care of; I have researched indoor plants that 1) do well in indirect light and 2) are non-toxic to cats (the Psychokitty doesn't need anything else to send her into a frenzy); and I may even download a gardening game or two to get me in the right mindset. All of this combined with my following of plant inspiration IG accounts and I'm sort of all set.

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